#so then i had the very strong urge to hurt MORE

[wishchthumblr]

on todays episode of "mental health issues that could easily be solved by one single thing that i dont have", GET A MICROWAVE!!!

i just know SO many of my eating related issues (not all obviously but a LOT of them) would be solved if this house just had a goddamn microwave

today i ate like... 1/4th of those small frozen pizzas, 1/3rd of a grilled cheese, and 1/3rd bowl of macaroni and meatballs. and yall wanna know why i didnt eat the whole thing of any of them? its cause my stupid adhd ass took too long to eat and the food got cold. and then i Cannot Eat That anymore. so even though i was still hungry i didnt eat the rest of it and just went back to rotting on youtube shorts and being too hungry to do anything and feeling dumb and unproductive and being guilty of making food that i dont eat. just... feeling like a big ol' waste

but the thing is, if i just

✨owned a microwave✨

i could just reheat the motherfucking food and still eat it and not feel like ive wasted that food. ((because since that food is wasted i feel guilty about making it, so i dont make any more food until next meal time, but then i didnt finish that either cause im stupid and eat too slow.))

but we dont have a microwave. only an oven. and yeah maybe i couldve reheated the 3/4th pizza or the grilled cheese in the oven, but then again the oven uses a lot of electricity. and my mom is always complaining that i turn the oven on, forget that its on for a while, and that im wasting electricity. and i was too tired and hungry to deal with that possibility. plus with the oven theres a chance i forget it too long or have it too hot and burn the food and that would just make me feel worse

but we dont have a microwave, because my mom thinks having a microwave leads to "eating more unhealthy foods that you just heat up" instead of "real food". so i didnt reheat any of my food. so i didnt eat it. it got to the point where it got cold and gross so i just threw it in the trash and hope my mom or grandma doesnt notice.

but if i had a microwave, i couldve reheated that food. and i couldve eaten it. ((and yeah, maybe i wouldnt have ate the whole thing, but maybe half at least? that counts right? well it dont really matter if it counts or not cause it didnt happen.))

and then maybe i wouldnt have been feeling like im gonna faint the whole day and maybe i wouldve gotten literally anything done instead of just scrolling on pinterest and youtube shorts for hours and feeling worthless. and maybe if i ate i wouldnt have hurt myself today

but nope. no microwave. it leads to "unhealthy" habits. i guess not eating enough to count as even ONE full meal is healthier since its not "microwave food"

thanks mom

[thrassisfras]

The fact that I went into that first conversation with Gortash completely blind and he somehow managed to be the one that almost convinced me to side with him is just wild to me. Gwydion had been incredibly resistant to anyone (even his partner) trying to get him to be just a little power-hungry, but then Gortash came along and started talk about unity and stability instead of "we're gonna be evil and rule the world" and it was working on Gwydion.

My only thought during the coronation scene was "damn, he really does know Gwydion"

[bitten-fruit]

Simon forgets how strong he is

18+ MDNI - cw: bruising - ~700 words

just some Simon Riley NSFW brainrot ♥︎ - part 2-ish, and part 3-ish here!!

Simon forgets how to be gentle.

When he's at war, fighting and shooting and killing day and night, all he knows is hardness. Brutality. Ruthlessness. His hands and heart grow calloused and rough in his months away from you. Using his unfathomable strength to survive is what he grows used to, it becomes second nature.

But it's your softness he remembers, to keep himself sane. It's all he thinks about. Dreams of.

The way the flesh of your hips, your ass, your breasts, your belly, pillows so deliciously between his fingers when he squeezes his handful - so warm, so supple. The way your vanilla-balmed lips graze his scarred skin so tenderly, however undeserved your sweetness is.

And when he finally returns home, after months of missing, craving you - when you stand in the door, honey thighs bare by virtue of the black panties you wore just to torture him, soft tummy peeking out from under your crop-top - he just can't restrain himself.

You greet him with your sugary smile, stretching up on your toes to curl your loving arms around his neck - your gentle voice, music; "Si, ah! I'm so glad you're okay…"

The moment your velvet skin touches his, his shackles crumble. Like a beast starved, he clutches you. Mammoth arms curl around you, constricting, gripping you eagerly like you might be a dream; liable to turn to a memory, to smoke.

His avaricious embrace lifts your feet from the ground, though he doesn't mean to - he burrows his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, lets the curls of your hair smother him and fill his chest with the faint scent of your fruity shampoo. Fights every urge to take a bite, like you're a ripe nectarine.

Growls into your skin, through his jaw; "I fuckin' missed you, love. Christ, you have no idea how much I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby…" you coo into his ear, even your breathing is tender - he can't take it.

So he ferries you immediately to the sitting room, scoops you up like you weigh nothing, lets you coil your buttery thighs around his waist as he sits you on his lap on the sofa.

His wide hands take their greedy handfuls of your body - of your waist, of your hips, of your thighs, of your ass. Finally indulging the impulses he had dreamed about for so long - the very image he had fucked his fist to more times than he could count while parted from you.

With his teeth on your shoulder, tongue laving your warm skin; "So fuckin' soft," he grumbles deeply, and urges, "pretty thing. So soft. Fuck, I missed you."

His cock is hasty to grow boulder-solid under his trousers, and he chastises himself - but you answer with a cloying giggle, grinding your mound against its rigidity as if to torment him.

"Mm, you did miss me," you tease, little brat.

Then in an instant, all he can think about is the softness of your syrupy pussy, the gumminess of the inside of your cunt as its walls caress and milk his cock like it was built just to fit him.

You make him fucking ravenous, so voraciously eager to have you that he doesn't even notice his hands turn to vices around your flesh - fingers burrowing so deeply into the cheek of your ass that he might break through the skin.

"Ah!" You yelp, "Ow - Simon - you're hurting me-"

Your squeak of pain is enough to immediately shatter him - so he rapidly lifts you off of him, protecting you from his impulse. Stands you on your feet so that you're no longer victim to his inability to control himself.

"Shit, I'm sorry-" he grunts under his breath, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's-" Your brows curl in worry, turning to look at where he had clawed you - and he sees the purple bruises where his hand had wrenched the flesh of your ass, the red lines where his fingernails had nearly punctured you. "Oh," you breathe at the sight, "…wow."

Drowning in visceral shame, he can barely bring himself to touch you again. But your soft hand caresses his hair, running through the sandy tresses - you, somehow, the one to comfort him.

"It's okay, baby, I know you didn't mean to," you purr fondly, and he leans forward to shamefully press as soft a kiss as he can into the bruise he gave you. Fucking monster.

"I'm sorry," he croaks into your skin, hoping his guilt will reverse his barbarity. "I just missed you."

"I know," you croon, turning to plant a loving kiss into his hair. "It's okay."

You guide him to lean back, mounting his lap again, letting your pelvis grind against the erection you were quick to reawaken.

His hands barely ghosting over your skin, he restrains himself, touches you carefully.

You whisper, into his stubbled cheek; "I'll show you how to be gentle again."

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[captainfern]

omg omg cap please i’m begging you to write this (if you have time)

HAVE YOU SEEN that specific scene of “Six” with Barry Sloane where him and his wife are trying fertility treatments and he basically has to j off and fill a cup and then his wife comes and calls him “my big bear” and man’s already busting with just that??? WELL-

can we get smth like this with Price? Like it doesn’t have to be that specific scenario just smth where his s/o is jerking him off and calls him a name, and he immediately comes, but that’s exactly not the end of it? YOU GET IT

i’ve been thinking about it an unhealthy amount these past days… I’m literally foaming at the mouth.

Anonymous asked: Been seeing a lot of Bear appreciation on here, so what about... C. Price and reader trying to (naturally, of course) conceive? Maybe he's on injury leave or something! He gets hurt and now is the perfect time to tell him she wants him to retire and put a baby in her >:) I just see that scene from SIX and go feral every time. Breeding kink go wild 🙏

Anonymous asked: Dbf!price x reader mating press? Or or or price taking her somewhere nice for dinner and they go back to his place and he leads her through it while doin the nasty….

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In Utero

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“In Utero” Album by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - you and price are trying for a baby lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.9k • warnings - fem!reader, civilian!reader, some possessive!price, handjobs, unprotected piv (obviously), praise, breeding kink, creampies, mating press, talks of pregnancy n babies blah blah blah, body worship, breeding kink (again cause i'm being so fr), price calls you mama at one point (*whispering* is this a mommy kink? i don't know. i don't think so? but idk take this how you will), strong language

the amount of breeding kink related requests i get for this man is crazy 😭 some of you should be studied cause oh my god (i am not complaining)

killing three birds with one stone with this one. changed it a little but hope you all enjoy :)

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It had been a long few days on base, and Price had been looking forward to coming home to you.

He loved nothing more than returning home to you after work. You'd greet him, looking absolutely fucking stunning, and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and cradle him to you. He'd breath you in, absorb your presence, his mind running a million miles an hour as he hugged you back.

You were his. And he was so happy.

Price never considered himself a very possessive person. But when it came to you, his wife, he felt an overwhelming urge to ensure everyone knew you were his.

He was so, so proud of you. He's always show you off, worship the ground you walked on. He'd hold your hand, or guide you with a hand to the base of your spine in public. He wasn't afraid to pin your body next to his in a crowd, either.

It was much the same in the bedroom.

Price would worship your entire body. He'd kiss up and down the length of it, from head to toe. He'd take extra care in massaging different parts of you that he loved– your tits, your waist, your hips, your arse, your thighs. He'd smooth his fingers over your skin, trailing kisses in their wake, whispering sweet praise and affirmations as he did so.

When he'd finally reach your face, he'd kiss you with as much passion and force as the sea. Cradling your head, holding your face, moving his lips warmly against yours, probing your mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss so he could be closer to you.

He loved you.

You were his, and he was yours.

•º•

You had gone for a night out with your friends, leaving Price alone at home.

To keep him occupied in the silence of the house, he cleaned and cooked, listening to his music. He cooked up a meal that he stored in the fridge for later, then he proceeded to clean what he could of the house. He wanted to ensure you got home from having fun and didn't have to lift a finger.

And so Price could have you all to himself for the night.

You returned home hours later, the sun sinking past the horizon. You entered your home, your social battery ticking downwards, and Price was in front of you as soon as the front door was closed and locked.

He wrapped you in his arms, your face to his chest, and you returned the hug as he placed his chin on the top of your head.

"You had fun, sweetheart?" Price asked, taking a deep breath after pressing his nose to the crown of your head.

You hummed into his chest. "Yeah, it was nice."

You pulled out of the hug, and Price held your hand as you walked him into the living room. The both of your flopped down onto the couch. You couldn't help but admire the way he spread his legs when he sat, and the expansion of his thighs beneath his sweatpants as they made contact with the couch cushions.

You squeezed your thighs together, heat blooming in your core. A giddy, almost nervous feeling swelled in your chest as you locked eyes with your husband. You chewed on your bottom lip, fighting a flustered smile.

He looked so good.

Annnndddd you were ovulating.

Yep.

Evident by the fact that at just one look from your husband, one smile, your underwear was completely fucking soaked.

Price released a breathy laugh. "What?"

You whined, still biting your lip and smiling. "You look so handsomeeeee." You said, dragging out the final word.

He laughed again, eyes twinkling. Your eyes scanned his face, then you were crawling across the couch. He shifted, leaning back so you could crawl onto his lap, arse across his thick thighs. You ran your hands up and down his torso, feeling the smooth ridges of his muscle beneath his shirt. He hummed in the back of his throat, eyes closing, as you dragged your nails down the soft bumps of his abs.

"John, can I touch you?" You asked, hands coming to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants, toying with the ridges of the elastic.

"You are touching me." Price joked, opening his eyes. He settled his hands on your hips and squeezed gently.

You rolled your eyes. "I want your cock."

Price couldn't help but laugh through his moan as you shimmied his sweatpants and boxers down, pulling out his hardening cock. He groaned deeply as you pumped him a couple of times to full stiffness, before swiping your thumb across the head.

His hips bucked, twitching against the couch. You continued to fist him tightly while leaning over and letting a string of saliva fall from your mouth. It dripped across the tip of his cock, and Price let out a throaty moan, the grip on your hips tightening.

You used your saliva to make your hand glide, pumping him quickly. Usually, your stokes would be languid, seductive, as you prepped to either take him in your mouth or in your cunt. But this time, your movements were purposely fast, and the grunts in Price's quick breathing was an indicator that he liked it.

The wet clicks were consecutive as you stroked his cock from base to tip– squeezing tighter near the base, twisting near the tip. Price grumbled contentedly as you did so, beads of pre-cum leaking from his slit. He watched you with hooded eyes, a fucked out smile on his face as you jerked him off.

"Haven't even been home five minutes and you were so desperate for my cock, huh, sweetheart?" Price mused, hips jerking and cock twitching as you sped up the movement of your hand. He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. He forced them open, watching your hand for a second, before finding your face. He smiled, leaning forward to try and kiss you. "Mmm this is your cock, isn't it, baby? You can have it whenever you want..."

He kissed you, and you let him. You let his tongue lick along the seam of your lips, and you allowed him to coax your mouth open, a moan passing from his to yours. You continued fisting his cock, heating up against your palm, the tip flushed and glistening.

You pulled out of the kiss and with his eyes closed, Price rested his forehead against yours, mouth agape. He opened his eyes eventually, looking down at where you rapidly stroked his throbbing cock. He let out a quiet groan, flecks of pre-cum splattering onto his shirt at the pace at which you jerked him off.

He was close, his release building higher with each stroke of your hand. He held your hips tighter, grinding you onto his lap, and you moaned quietly, sweetly. He groaned in response, lifting his mouth to try and kiss you. You backed up a bit, enough so his lips were just brushing yours.

"John?" You whispered, and he released a quiet groan at that.

"Mmm?" He didn't have the cognitive ability to reply with words at his point, solely focussed on the way you were stroking his cock, and his looming orgasm.

You pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then pulled back. He watched you, eyelids drooping, eyes glassy, and you couldn't help but smile. You leaned back in, and whispered, "I want you to put a baby in me."

Price let out a loud, guttural groan. "Holy fuck."

He came abruptly, thick ropes painting your hand and his shirt. He moaned your name, cock twitching as strings of white dribbled down your fingers and across his now semi-hard length. Price pressed forward, kissing you, and you pumped him a couple more times before you were retracting your hand. You moved your head away, and licked his cum off your fingers. His eyes rolled, and he slumped back against the couch with a groan.

"You liked that, huh?" You teased, creeping your fingers beneath his shirt and slowly pushing it up, revealing the dark happy trail that led from his navel to his pelvis.

He hummed his agreement as you pulled his shirt further, and he sat up, lifting his arms so you could pull it off all the way. You tossed it aside before running the flat of your hands up and down his body. He hummed again, this time in content as you massaged the flesh of his pectorals, running your thumbs over his nipples and making him jerk against the couch.

"D'you mean what you said?" Price suddenly asked as you dragged your nails down the grooves in his abs. Goosebumps raised along his skin.

"What, about putting a baby in me?" You smiled, and he groaned, head flopping backwards again. You ran your fingers through the hair of his happy trail, following it down to his cock, still sticky with his release. You took hold of it again, and you felt it slowly hardening. Your smile grew. "Oh, I'm serious, John."

You pumped him slowly, gently, until he was fully hard in your hand once more. Price's breathing was laboured as he kept his head tossed back, eyes screwed shut. His chest rose and fell.

You stripped yourself of your own shirt and bra while he was occupied, managing to do so while still gently stroking his cock. Then, you raised yourself, and wiggled your skirt off– you had to use both hands to do this.

With your hand gone from his cock, Price pulled his head forward to see what you were doing. He released a breathy moan, immediately bringing his hands to your waist. You laughed as he dragged you forward and buried his face between your tits. You threaded your hands into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he kissed the soft skin of your chest.

His hands rubbed your waist, your lower back. Then, one hand still on your lower back, the other came to rest on your tummy, and he rubbed it gently.

"Wanna get you pregnant," he whispered into your sternum. "Mhm... mhm... wanna put a baby in you."

You felt your core throb red-hot at his words, your entire body thrumming with sexual energy that really, really needed to be released. You still had your underwear on, and you could feel your arousal dripping into the soft cotton fabric.

Face still in between the mounds of your breasts, Price dragged his hands away from your stomach and back and hooked his fingers beneath the waistline of your underwear. He slowly pulled them down until they were mid-thigh and couldn't go any further with the way you were sprawled across his lap.

Price shifted his head to the side, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he took two fingers and ran them up and down your wet slit. You keened, looking down at him with a whimper of his name. He looked up at you, mouth suctioned around your tit, as he dragged two fingers through your folds.

He retracted, moving to repeat his actions on your other nipple as he gently pushed his two fingers inside of you. You released a moan from low in your throat, holding yourself steady on your husbands shoulders as he fingered you open. He continued to watch you, tongue and teeth against your sensitive flesh, revelling in the way your tight walls clutched at his fingers.

Drops of arousal pooled past his knuckles and through the lines in his palm. He angled his hand so the drops dripped onto his lap, and the heel of his palm ground against your puffy clit. You gasped, hand shooting upwards to tug on Price's hair, his teeth scraping the bud of your nipple at the same time.

"John, I need you." You whined, trying desperately to grind yourself onto the heel of his palm. He let you, the pressure on your swollen clit making your eyes drop closed and your mouth drop open.

"What do you want from me?" He asked in a whisper, curling his fingers inside you and making your body alight with pleasure. The base of your tummy drew tight as the pads of his fingers worked that spot inside you.

"Need your cock," you whined impatiently, your climax just inches away from you. "Please, please, need you to fill me up."

You clenched around his fingers as he continued to hit that spot inside you. He applied more pressure to your clit, throbbing in tandem with the heartbeat in your chest. Price changed the angle of your sitting arrangement, so he could now comfortably kiss up the column of your neck.

"Need my cock, eh? Just need me to fill you up?" He murmured into your ear as he fucked his fingers into you. "I'll fill you up, sweetheart, I will. Fill you up niceeee and full. Fill this pretty tummy with my kids, eh, baby?"

His words made you come around his fingers without much warning. You pushed yourself against him, orgasm knocking you off balance as it wracked through you. Price fingered you through it, his other hand on your lower back and keeping your body close to his. He kissed you and although you struggled to kiss him back, you were still moaning his name into his mouth.

Price kissed you again, and then peppered kisses across your face as he took his fingers out of you. He grabbed your hips in both hands and helped you off his lap, standing you on your feet as he followed. Your underwear dropped the rest of the way down your thighs, and you quickly kicked them across the room as you grabbed Price by the shoulders and pulled him back into you.

Price's sweatpants and boxers fell and he kicked them away too as he kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. Still kissing, he led you out of the living room and eventually, the two of you made it to your bedroom, breathless.

He pushed you down onto your bed, and you giggled as he immediately followed after you, pinning your body beneath his. The weight of him made your cunt throb, arousal sticky against your inner thighs. The warm, solid form of his cock against your inner thigh made you moan, scratching your nails down his back.

"Can't wait for you to have my kids... our kids..." Price drawled between lazy kisses as he notched the head of his cock at your dripping cunt, smearing your arousal around your hole. "You're gonna look so pretty as a mum, aren't you, baby? Gonna be such a good mama."

Price pushed into you in one solid thrust, knocking the air from your lungs. You arched your back, meshing closer to him, as the tip of his cock knocked up against your cervix. You mewled, grasping at his back, as he dragged his cock out. The sensation was slow and heavy and sparked something deep in your stomach. When he was all the way out, he playfully tapped the head of his cock to your clit a couple of times. You choked on your moan, before he was filling you up again.

"John–" You moaned outwardly, sickly sweet and making him grunt above you. He doubled his efforts, slamming into you, the rhythm rocking the bed against the wall.

His fat cock split you open, stretching your wet hole around him and pushing up into your womb. You could feel him in your stomach. You felt so full.

Price pressed a hand to your lower stomach, admiring the subtle outline of his cock beneath the soft mound of your belly. He moaned loudly, pressing harder, and the feeling made you moan as well.

"John, fuck, oh my god." You whimpered as he thrust into you, heavy and rough, dragging along the tight, wet walls of your cunt. You clenched around him, your hands desperately trying to bring him closer to you. His chest hair against your tits, his hands on your stomach and hip– you wanted, no, needed him close.

He removed his hand from your stomach, instead gripping your hips as he fucked you into the mattress. He was grunting and groaning above you, eyes never leaving the way your body and face were reacting.

"That's a good girl, taking it so well... Always take it so well, sweetheart, don't you?" Price murmured, eyes on your face. "Such a good girl taking my cock. S'like this pretty cunt was made for it, eh, baby?"

For emphasis, he increased his pace. The tip of his cock slammed into your sweet spot, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. His thrusts were drawing wet sounds from you, and you could feel your arousal being spread across your lower arse and inner thighs as he moved.

Your second orgasm approached quickly. Price fucked you hard, his noises of pleasure above you making you flutter around him. Your clit throbbed with a heartbeat, a thin layer of sweat settling over your naked body.

"John, John–" You tried to warn him, but failed when your orgasm slammed through you mid-sentence, rendering you speechless. You gushed around him, and he moaned, hips stuttering as your cunt squeezed around his cock, your orgasm dribbling out of you with each timed thrust.

He moaned your name. "Mmm there you go, there you go. My perfect girl, that's it. Feels good, sweetheart?"

You nodded, dizzy. "Yeah, y-yeah, fuck, so good, John, so good."

Price hummed, pleased. As you babbled, he shifted off of you for a second so he could hook his hands beneath your knees. Cock still stuffed inside you, he bent your legs and pressed them up against your chest, making you release a series of airy whimpers. He pressed his body heavily against you, holding the backs of your knees and literally folding you in half.

He began his thrusts again, and your eyes rolled at the new angle– his cock hit further, deeper inside you. The remnants of your orgasm were loud and wet as he rutted into you desperately, deep grunts falling from his mouth.

"Gotta fuck you deep, baby," he whispered, voice low. "Gotta stuff you full of my cock so it takes. Want it to take... want it to fucking take..." He punctuated each sentence with an extra heavy thrust, cock dragging against your slick walls. He groaned. "Gonna get you pregnant, sweetheart. Gonna get you fat with my kids. That's what you want, yeah? Want me to breed this pretty cunt?"

You hummed a yes. His words were making you even dizzier than you already were. You moaned and moaned, pleasure poisoning your veins as he fucked you towards a third orgasm. Your body was hot, damp with sweat. Price was warm too, strands of wet hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at you.

"Fuck, fuck," Price whispered. "You're my good girl, baby, you're my good girl. Want you to come one more time for me, okay? One more time n' then I'm gonna–" He cut himself off with a moan, but you understood.

Your body shook beneath him, your legs tightening in his grasp. Then, with a shattering moan of his name, you came around his cock. Your third orgasm fizzed through you, and it took a while to fizzle out as he rutted into you nonstop. The feeling of static pleasure lingered as he chased his high, and you whimpered quietly in his ear as he fucked your sopping cunt.

Your husband was cursing under his breath, moaning your name too. His balls slapped against the curve of your arse, sticky with your arousal, and the hands on the backs of your knees gripped tighter as his orgasm loomed. He imagined the future– you, round with his baby and looking so fucking pretty. He moaned at the thought, cock throbbing inside you.

"Oh, fuck– fuck, m'gonna come, mama," it slipped out through a moan. "M'gonna breed this pretty cunt nice and full. M'gonna give you my kids–"

Buried to the hilt inside you, Price came. A lot.

He filled you, just like he promised, and you felt the thick, hot ropes flood past your cervix. You moaned his name, and he slammed his mouth onto yours, shushing you with his tongue. He continued thrusting gently, stuffing his seed further inside you, plugging it up against your womb with the head of his cock. He groaned when you squeezed around him, gently dropping your legs from him.

Price pulled out of the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Fuck, I love you."

"I love you too." You replied breathlessly, and the both of you lay in silence for a moment, panting like dogs in heat.

Fitting, really. The thought made you smile.

Price groaned into your neck, sucking a kiss to the skin. You pet his head gently.

"What's the matter?" You asked him, soothing the crown of his head as he bit and sucked at the curve of your shoulder.

"I just imagined you pregnant again," he uttered against you. "And now I'm hard again."

You laughed. "John, oh my god."

•º•

Several months of... trying... later, you sat in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hands. Happy tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at the two lines.

Outside, Price knocked on the door. "You alright, sweetheart?"

You sniffled. "Yeah, m'fine."

"You sure?" Price asked as soon as he heard the slight waver in your voice. "If you're not feeling well, we can tell the boys we can reschedule dinner–"

You opened the door of the bathroom with the test behind your back. Price noticed the tears, cupping your face.

"What's wrong?"

You had always planned on revealing your future pregnancy to your husband in an elaborate way. You'd dreamed of it, actually. But, overwhelmed with excitement and relief, you simply took his hands off your face, and placed the pregnancy test in his palm. He took it, confused for a moment, eyeing it skeptically.

Then, his eyes widened, tears immediately springing to his waterline as he looked down at you.

"You're pregnant?" He was crying.

"Yeah." You were crying too.

He wrapped you in his arms, pressing you gently to him and burying his face in your hair, sobbing with happiness. Your heart clenched, the excitement rolling off of him. After a long moment, he pulled back, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Told you I'd get you pregnant." He smiled, winking.

You rolled your eyes.

He laughed, then looked at the test again. He beamed, eyes twinkling. Then, he looked down at you again, eyes shining with mischief. You narrowed your eyes jokingly at him.

"What?" You fought a smile.

"Are we sure this is accurate?" He smiled. "We might, you know, have to try a couple more times, just to be sure."

"John!" You laughed.

And the two of you did have to reschedule dinner with the boys. You both got distracted.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

[autistichalsin]

So I don't usually post all that many Astarion thoughts here, but I have noticed that some people feel that a certain set of lines spawn Astarion and ascended Astarion have in the new evil endings would have been better suited for the other. Namely, after the Dark Urge stabs either of them, Spawn Astarion cries, "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" while Ascended Astarion breaks down into inelegant blubbering, "no! No, this can't be. I can't- you can't- no!"

And I can definitely understand where it might feel like these would be better responses for the other- but I happen to completely disagree.

So, Astarion, first and foremost, is a fear-driven person after what he's been through. Everything- manipulating others, seeking power, lacking empathy- comes from his belief that power is all that matters, the only way to avoid being hurt, and only his quest to become the powerful one at last matters.

Through his friendship or romance (in this case, obviously, romance) with the player, though, he starts to find this being challenged. He sees genuine kindness for the first time. No expectations that he lay down his body to get advantages. No using him. His dignity and boundaries respected for the first time that he can remember. This is set against the backdrop of Cazador and the other spawn. If he kills them and takes Cazador's power, he can become powerful enough to never fear again. But if he doesn't, he can be something more than the game Cazador pulled him into when he made him a spawn.

Your confrontation with Cazador is the moment you either entrench Astarion in this belief, or free him from it. If you let him ascend, he becomes all-powerful- at the cost of believing forever that the world is nothing more than an extended power trip, a system where by necessity there are lower people and higher people and only the strong can be free. And he has finally become the strongest of the strong.

So imagine his surprise when you, who he thought was under his thumb, grab more power than him and kill him just like that. No chance to fight back or use his vampire lord powers. He went through all that, sacrificed the core of who he was- and it still wasn't enough. His one concession to his dog-eat-dog philosophy, his love for you, was the thing that let him die. No wonder, then, that all he can do is babble out something between disbelief, a plea, and a last attempt to assert power over you. He was as powerful as he ever could have hoped to be, and he still lost, cast aside by you as soon as he was no longer useful.

Meanwhile, there's spawn Astarion, weaker in every measure- but free of his belief that power is all that matters. He's fought hard and discarded Cazador entirely- including all the power he offered. He committed himself to becoming better. To experiencing a life where things like happiness and love have just as much of a place as sheer power. And he was enjoying it, too, especially with you at his side.

And then you show him that that was all a lie, that he may very well have made the wrong choice by abandoning all that; for all he knows, you may even have talked him out of the ritual specifically so he would be easier to kill later.

So it's not disbelief and begging. Spawn Astarion actually loved and trusted you and foresook his social-Darwinist beliefs for you; what he feels is raw betrayal. And betrayal gives way to anger rapidly. So instead, he's the one cursing you with his last breath. Lamenting that he let you live at all, let alone falling in love with you.

Ascended Astarion became more powerful but more arrogant, so his reaction is that of someone who can't wrap his head around how this could have happened. Spawn Astarion foresook power for the sake of a real relationship with you, so his reaction is utter fury and betrayal.

[j4desblurbs]

R U MINE?

logan howlett x fem! reader

it’s about time we wrote more than smut for this man!!

summary: logan accidentally hurts you.

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and injury

word count: 642

when you fell asleep in logan’s bed, you hadn’t expected to be woken up like this.

a sharp, fiery pain lances across your arm, snapping you out of your slumber. you glance down, just as logan’s adamantium claws retract.

he’s having another nightmare.

of course, you knew he had them frequently. often times half the mansion would be woken up by his screaming. but you didn’t really think they’d be like this.

logan hasn’t started screaming yet, but he’s shifting, murmuring under his breath about william stryker. suddenly he’s shooting up in bed in a cold sweat, looking around frantically before he sees you and relaxes.

his eyes spot the line of red that mars your skin, and in an instant he’s moving, gently lifting your forearm to look closer.

“did i..” he cuts himself off, unable to continue. he had hurt you.

“logan, it’s okay…” you start, but you don’t get very far into your sentence before he cuts you off.

“okay? bub, i hurt you. that’s not okay.” the distraught look in logan’s eyes makes your heart ache. didn’t he realize it wasn’t his fault?

you slide closer to him, but he moves back, tense. trying again, you slowly reach out, resting a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to react. when he doesn’t, you pull yourself close to him, wrapping your arms around his muscular frame and resting your head on his shoulder. reluctantly, his body relaxes and he rests his chin on the top of your head.

“logan.” you say, voice soft. “it’s just a scratch, okay? i’m alright. promise.”

“lucky it’s just a scratch.” he responds, gruff voice slightly muffled by your hair. then his strong hands are on your shoulders, pulling you up from his body and forcing you to look at him.

“what would you have done if i’d stabbed you, huh? what then?” logan’s voice is strained, full of pain.

“but you didn’t.” you urge, cupping his cheek with one hand. “you didn’t, logan. and i know you won’t.”

he looks up at you, his eyes full of confusion. you were so trusting, so patient. he couldn’t even begin to understand it. his claws had touched you, and the way you shrugged it off, said it was okay? it drove him crazy.

some part of him wanted you to push him away. to get out of his room and never come back. he was used to that, would know how to deal with that.

he didn’t know how to deal with this.

“you don’t know that. hell, even i don’t know that.” he mutters that last part to himself. you can feel the self hatred that emanates off his frame, making your heart sink. did he really think so little of himself and his ability?

“i know that you’re the most caring person i’ve ever known” you start, softly running your fingers down his forearm. “i know that you’d do whatever you could to protect the people you love.” with every passing second, logan becomes less tense. “i know that you hate those claws a lot of the time. but i love them.”

“you love them?” he repeats, confused on how you could find beauty in such an ugly twisted thing. you hum in response. “i love them because they’re a part of you, and i love you. they’re not all bad, logan.”

with that, he relents, allowing himself to sink into your touch, arms gingerly wrapping themselves around you, tucking your head under his chin.

“i love you.” he murmurs, lips pressing against your hair.

“i love you too.” you whisper into his neck, pressing a gentle kiss on his pulse point. you melt into him, silently urging him to lay back onto the mattress.

when logan falls asleep with you in his arms. his dreams are filled with nothing but peace.

[holybibly]

Mommy I hate to be a bother but can you give me and the other bunnies a shorty of this naughty thought https://www.tumblr.com/holybibly/756656577787936768/did-the-bunnies-miss-me-have-you-been-obedient?source=share

I can't stop thinking about so please I'll even be a good bunny for you🥺🥺

Mmm, bunny, just because I love you so much. Here's a little teaser of what will soon be a full-length work, because I can't get these thoughts out of my head either.

Unholy hour of the day, my sugar fuzzies: Alpha Mommy Hwa gives his greedy wolf cubs a lesson they won't soon forget.

You were hot, too hot for you to handle; your whole body was on fire and tingling like you were in heat, and you had the feeling you could feel Seonghwa with every cell of your body. Your long velour ears were twitching slightly, and your cheeks were wet with the tears and drool that Seonghwa's long tongue had left behind as he licked the tears from your warm, flushed skin.

Your slutty bunny nature was singing with pleasure as you basked in the amount of attention that the Alpha was giving you at that very moment. You could taste the thick, rich taste of his sickly-sweet pheromones on your tongue and the wet feel of his tongue on your skin, his rough, possessive fingers digging into your flesh until it was bruised and bloodied. But it only made you more needy, your sticky, sweet slime pouring out of your hole like a waterfall, filling the whole room with the fertile, creamy scent of peaches and cream.

The rational part of you was still resisting, fighting against your strong instinct for self-preservation and morality, telling you to squeeze your legs together and cover your slutty, needy cunt. But the velvety purring of the head alpha behind your back and the pathetic whimpering of San and Wooyoung at your feet plunged you deeper and deeper into the lustful depths of pleasure, making your thoughts of virtue and modesty melt away.

The whole situation was Woosan's fault. When those seductive wolf pups invited you to play this morning, you never imagined you would end up like this—on Seonghwa's lap, wrapped in one of his luxurious fur coats and covered in jewellery from head to toe, while his huge, thick alpha-cock stretched your tiny pink cunt until it almost hurt. You writhed and cried in his arms, begging him to fuck you and satisfy your hunger and need, but your mommy was merciless, torturing you for hours on end, and not just you, if Wooyoung and San's red, painfully hard cocks pressed tightly against their tense, stained, and glistening with pre-sperm stomachs were any indication. 

The viscous, clear liquid was trickling down between the reliefs of their abdominal muscles and dripping onto the floor, collecting in puddles of liquid lust between their spread thighs. And you thought for a second that maybe when it was all over, the main Alpha would make them clean up the mess with their tongues. While he will sadistically watch the wolf pups lapping up their own cooled sperm. Sometimes your mommy was very sophisticated when it came to punishing, but even that didn't stop any one of the wolves from trying to stick his dick in you up to balls. 

Maybe none of this would have happened if San and Wooyoung had just fucked you or licked your pussy like they usually liked to do, but their inner instincts urged them to mate you, to make you their own. And now they were paying for their greed, fucking the air and coming dry while Seonghwa rolled your pussy on his huge cock and made them watch.

Part of you even felt sorry for them, their pretty faces covered by heavy silver snout muzzles, tight leather collars wrapped around their necks, and at the base of their dicks, the beautiful metal rings that kept their knots from swelling were glistening. 

You scream, a shiver running through your entire body as the thick head of your Alpha's cock nuzzles the edge of your cervix, thanks to a particularly deep thrust. Oh God... The memories of how Mingi, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa rearranged your insides two nights ago, how they literally fucked you to the brink, come flooding back into your mind, and a new load of thick, sugary mucus spurts out of your hole. Seonghwa had been especially kind to the huge, passionate wolf that night, letting him have his way with you, but after Mingi and that daddy had fucked you almost to the point of unconsciousness. The head Alpha took you again, tied you up with his knot, and fucked you at a brutal animal pace, folding you in half so that your legs were pressed against the sides of your head.

Your mommy had fucked you countless times—in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening, at night—pulling you onto his cock like a glove, but you still couldn't get used to the size of it. It felt like his cock was getting bigger with each session, more veins showing on the heavy velvety length and his thick knot practically tearing you in half as he fucked you like an animal. Stuffing you with his cock and pouring so much cum into you that your belly swelled like you were in the early stages of pregnancy.

Seonghwa's appetite for you was insatiable. Everyone in the house, including Hongjoong, had to remember that you belonged to him and only to him. And if the sore, raw, never-healing bite on your neck wasn't enough to make everyone understand that, Seonghwa would always give them an object lesson.

The Alpha's fur coat was too heavy for you to carry, but Seonghwa had recently taken to dressing you up in it. Naked in his luxurious coat and draped in tonnes of jewellery was his favourite look on you. At the moment, you had a diamond collar around your neck that clearly indicated who you belonged to; it was restricting your breathing almost as much as the Alpha's long, skilled tongue in your throat.

A pathetic wail caused Seonghwa to tear his lips away from yours and turn his attention to the moaning, writhing mess at your feet. San and Wooyoung were tense to the breaking point. You could see their muscles twitching and contracting beneath their golden, sweat-soaked skin, their tongues tracing the metal bars of their muzzles, and the veins in their necks bulging as the Alpha tightened their leashes.

"Have a look at the pretty cunt my little sugar thing has." Hwa purred softly, sliding his hand down your body until his long fingers parted your labia as he exposed your tiny hole stretched around his cock to the greedy, dark gaze of the wolf pups. The soft, wet edge of your entrance clung to Seonghwa's knot with every deep thrust he gave it.

"A-a-alpha, please..." You whine, clutching your hand to Seonghwa's wrist as he continues to hold your pussy open and vulnerable.

The deep, dark growl of the wolf pups echoes with the smug, dark laughter of the alpha leader, and you instinctively cringe at the terrifying, vibrating sound that shakes San and Wooyoung's chests as they bare their sharp teeth and dig their claws into the dark parquet, leaving long, jagged stripes on the expensive wood.

His fingers release your labia, only to slap the palm of his hand hard against your clit, causing you to squeal and squirt around his cock. The walls of your pussyclench together to hold Seonghwa's hot, smooth length inside of you, and copious amounts of clear liquid spurt out of your hole onto the floor as he continues to slide in and out.

"All this is mine." Seonghwa growls in a low voice, his mouth sinking into the raw bite on your neck, only to suckle it roughly.

Another growl is elicited from San and Wooyoung, and the Alpha licks your skin one last time before he turns his attention to the cubs.

"Impatient, greedy bastards." Hwa's long fingers tangle in Wooyoung's silky, two-toned hair, squeezing and pulling his face down on your pussy with great force, almost burying his pretty face in your folds, but the snout prevents Woo from getting what he craves so much. His luxurious, fluffy tail whips out behind him as he smells the rich scent of your slick, and he moans loudly, his whole body shaking as if he has a fever. The need to fuck you, to breed you, to fill you with his cum until your pussy is warm and saturated with all his cum drives him literally crazy. He arched his back to press himself even closer to you, even though Seonghwa's cock was still deep inside you, so deep that Wooyoung could see it bulging out on your stomach.

San's no better, rolling his hips and fucking the air, hoping for relief; his sharp cat eyes focused on you, catching your every reaction like his life depended on it. And when streams of milk start running down your body, flowing freely from your breasts, his tongue hangs from his mouth, and his breathing becomes laboured.

"Mmm, Sannie, you want to have a feel of our little fluff too, don't you? Come here." Seonghwa grumbles and yanks hard on San's leash until there is another adorable face right next to your cunt. Your mommy's fingers slide between your folds again, rubbing the sticky slime all over your pussy, and then he brings his dirty fingers to your mouth, and you obediently open your lips for him, allowing him to push them into your mouth.

Another moan, mixed with a growl, escapes from Wooyoung and San at the sight of your little tongue swirling around those long, slippery appendages, and the main Alpha moans in satisfaction.

"Look how desperate you are; you want to try it too, don't you? You want to eat MY bunny's sweet, sticky snatch, don't you?" The wolf cubs nod their heads in desperation, their muzzles almost bumping into each other. "You'd have to do better than that if you want me to let you do that, you little bitches. For now, all you can do is sit back and enjoy the show."

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[propertyofwicked]

WORKPLACE PREDICAMENT - LN

part 2 to homesick <3 (potentially a part 3 incoming?)

warnings - none, just heavy on the angst, hurt/comfort and a cheeky bit of fluff

masterlist

the sun rose late, light shining through the window, illuminating the empty white walls. y/n scrunched her eyes up, the sun too bright, as she kicked herself for not shutting her curtains when she went to bed the night before. it took a moment for her to even realise she was laying on her sofa, the chair so new and unused that the fabric was stiff, uncomfortable, and digging in her side. she pushed her body upright, her eyes searching for her phone as her mind ran over the events of last night.

she’d fallen asleep in the offices, lando had driven her home, and sat with her till she fell asleep. no, she thought, shaking her head - he held her till she fell asleep. and if she digs deeper in her memories, the feeling of his lips pressing a soft kiss to her head as he whispered goodnight plagues her brain, pulling at her emotions. she’d promised not to let her school girl crush on a colleague get out of hand, but when they kiss your head and hold you till you fall asleep - what else is a girl supposed to do?

y/n didn’t dare to imagine the HR nightmare this could be if she allowed the situation to develop, so much so that she sighed in relief that she had to following week booked off to allow her to move in and settle in the new flat.

lando, however, was panicking.

he’d awoken several hours before her, the jet lag complicating his sleep schedule. he wasn’t sure how long he’d spent staring down at her sleeping form, legs curled up into her chest as her head rested on his lap. his fingers played with strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ears as he fought back the urge to bend down and kiss her again.

their close friendship was inevitable, everyone thought so. their personalities complimented each other well, the two of them could always be found giggling about something together. however, it was only in this moment that lando realised his need to be near her, his calm nature when she was present at his races or the urge he felt to always make sure she was alright was more than friendship. he wanted to know everything about her, her favourite colour, what she was allergic to, how she got that scar on her knee.

the reason he felt an overwhelming urge to care for y/n the previous night, and the strong desire he felt to do it every night became clearer and clearer with every corner lando turned on his way to the mclaren offices. he had a strong feeling it was the same reason he felt ridden with guilt when he prised her arms from him this morning, holding her head gently before lowering on to the sofa as he snuck out of her flat.

lando norris had a crush. a HR violating crush, that could destroy her entire career if he acted on it.

as he walked into the offices, he found himself face to face with oscar, who looked him up and down for a moment, deep in thought, before returning back to his face, eyes widening in realisation. until that very moment, lando had forgotten about the reason he had even been in the offices at 3am that morning, the events of the night returning to his mind. he hadn’t been home in between, he was wearing the same outfit oscar had seen him in mere 5 hours before, however his clothes now had y/n’s vanilla perfume embedded in the fibres.

lando shook his head at him, pleading for the australian to stay silent. his eyes darted around, looking for an empty side room, before nodding his team mate in that direction, silently telling him to follow him.

“so…” oscar started, closing the door quietly behind him, “how is she?”

“she’s… good?” lando replied, unsure where to start.

“and you’re in the same clothes because…?” oscar continued, leading the conversation for lando to fill in.

“i haven’t been home?” he replied wincing a little at how it sounds, “but nothing happened. she was upset, so we watched a film and she fell asleep on me.”

“right,” oscar nods, starting to understand. secretly, he’d always rooted for y/n and lando, noticing the connection between the two of them as many others had.

“she hates being alone,” lando added, still trying to justify himself, despite oscar never accusing him of anything, “the new flat, she hates it. too quiet, too lonely. she just needed someone there.”

“not someone, lando, you. she needed you there,” oscar replied, deciding to finally bring up the elephant in the room. lando didn’t respond, deciding to nod at his team mate whilst remaining deep in thought.

“and i wanted that. i liked that she needed me,” he said finally, looking up to see oscar’s face bearing a satisfied smile.

“what did she say to you when she woke up?” oscar asked, with genuine interest. lando grimaced again.

“she didn’t.”

“what do you mean she didn’t?” oscar asked, confusion written over his face until - “you left while she was asleep?”

“i needed to go to work and she just looked so peaceful and-” lando started, sighing deeply before his next statement, “and then i realised i wanted to see that every day. her waking up, getting ready, you know, like, domestic stuff. and then i realised i like her a lot more than i thought i did, and a lot more than HR would be happy about.”

“fuck HR,” oscar said, clapping his hands onto lando’s shoulders, “you like her mate, and i know she feels the same. do what makes you happy, worry about the consequences later.”

“she likes me back?” lando asked, smiling at the news, whilst choosing to ignore this new side of oscar who suddenly doesn’t think about consequences.

“everyone sees the way she looks at you. you could literally kill a puppy and she’d still look at you as if you hung the moon and stars.”

lando nodded at him, feeling the conversation come to a natural end as they left the room, starting up a new conversation about the meeting they had later that day.

lando decided he’d speak to her about it when she came in for her shift later, he started planning how he’d ask her to join him for dinner that evening, or maybe he’d invite her out for a late night drive. but his chance never arose, y/n never showed up.

and he didn’t see her in person till the following week. he had walked into the paddock, his mood still low when y/n still hadn’t been at the offices, or on the jet for the race weekend. he knew she was ok, as she had been interacting in their work associated group chats, all the while leaving his texts on delivered for hours, and only responding with the bare minimum when she did.

had he gone too far? he hadn’t meant to call her angel, he hadn’t meant to over insert himself in her life. did she know how he felt about her and it wasn’t mutual?

he’d spent the whole week beating himself up, believing he’d made her so uncomfortable that she’d gone MIA, and despite oscar’s reassurance, he couldn’t help but be miserable. but upon entering the mclaren hospitality centre, he heard her all too familiar laugh, his eyes immediately darting around the room till it settled on her frame. her hair was tied up in a low bun, keeping her hair from her eyes as she conversed with oscar.

he walked up to them slowly, anticipating a negative reaction from y/n, but once again found himself surprised when she turned and smiled at him.

“hey, we wondered where you’d got to,” she started, “i need to take a few pictures of you both in the garage for instagram. maybe a track walk video for stories?”

he nodded at her, dwelling on her almost professional tone. she was smiling, but there was no friendly teasing about how late he was, no jokes about his hair being a mess.

“just gimme 2 minutes to dump my bag and im all yours,” he replied, smiling at her again before locating his personal room.

im all yours ran through y/n’s brain like a mantra that day, it felt like her brain was bullying her, constantly reminding her that he was in fact, not all hers. she’d spent the week thinking of lando, and only him. how he speaks, how respectful he is, his charming nature, his curls. he would be the death of her, and she could never have him. ultimately, she decided that distancing herself would be the best course of action. keep it professional, keep it friendly, keep your job - she tried to remind herself every time she caught herself staring at him for longer than normal.

y/n wholeheartedly believed the rest of the weekend went well. she got her job done, remained professional and kept all her clothes on when lando stepped out of his car, sweating lightly and looking as if the gods had sculpted him.

lando wholeheartedly believed she was being insufferable and childish. she wouldn’t talk to him if it wasn’t work related, always managed to be ‘busy’ when he needed to talk, and spent more time talking to some of the engineers than she had ever spoken to them before. he was seething. he wasn’t annoyed at her, per say, more himself for letting it happen.

which is how he ended up outside her hotel room, knocking aggressively on her door 3 times before stepping back and fiddling with his fingers.

when she opened the door, lando stuttered saying hello, taken aback at the way her hair framed her face. she was wearing one of his old t-shirts he’d given her after a work christmas party - it hung low on her, almost covering the small cotton shorts she wore underneath. to him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“lando? what’s wrong?” she asked with genuine concern, her voice soft as her eyes widened at him. but for some reason, this angered him. how could she not know what was wrong?

“what’s wrong?” he repeated cruelly, watching as she flinched back at his anger, “you. you’re what’s wrong. why have you been ignoring me all week? i understand you were busy but not even a text back? and then, i see you in person and you act as if you hardly know me?”

he doesn’t know why he’s lashing out at her, it was as much his fault as it was hers.

“i had the week booked off,” she started explaining, noticing how lando’s face contorted from anger to guilt, “i booked it off so i had a week to move in to the flat and get settled. i didn’t text you ‘cos i was trying to move my stuff in, all whilst getting wifi installed and sorting out my bills?”

now, she was annoyed. she was giving him space, protecting herself from inevitable rejection. she knew she wasn’t being the best of friends, but that didn’t give him the right to turn up at her door and shout at her.

“and you couldn’t tell me that?” he argued back, “takes all of 20 seconds to put that in a text, y/n. i could’ve helped you move your stuff in. look, if i’ve done something to upset you, i’m gonna need you to tell me. ive been racking my brain for a week and not one thing is standing out to me.”

“look, lando. i’m sorry if you felt neglected, but i just needed to sort some things out. i’m here now, aren’t i? been here all weekend?”

“barely,” he snorted in response, anger still running through him.

“barely?” she questioned, “im right here? i did the track walk with you? i was in the media pen for your interviews? ive been here all weekend.”

“no, y/n, you haven’t. work y/n has been here, she’s been doing her job all week. my y/n is no where to be seen.”

her heart fluttered slightly, he claimed her as his own. she had to take a step back and remind herself that it meant nothing.

“i’m sorry lan,” she replied sadly, “i’m trying. i am. it’s just been rough recently.”

“i know, y/n,” he said, his tone softening for the first time in the whole conversation, “but im here for you. i want to be there for you when things get rough - why wont you just talk to me?”

she contemplated telling him the truth then and there, his sad eyes tempting her more and more every second she looked at them.

“i can’t talk to you about this lando. not right now,” she replied, pushing the door to close between the two of them. his foot stepped out, stopping the door from closing fully.

“y/n, i am in love with you. and i don’t know why or when it happened, but i am. and if that makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop. but i want to be with you, i want to know your past, i want to be in your future. please, y/n, let’s just talk about this,” he pleaded, laying his heart out on the table for her to see.

“goodnight lando,” she said bluntly, slamming the door shut. lando stood still, his blood ran cold, his heart plummeting, and the hallway fell silent. he heard the lock turning on her door, and turned to leave. but then he heard it, he heard her sobs through the door, and the fabric of her t-shirt sliding against the door as she fell to the floor.

something told him to leave, but her door felt like a magnet, pulling him towards it, as he slid down to the floor resting against it. lando heard the way her breathing faltered, air getting caught in the back of her throat as she cried.

“y/n, i know you can hear me,” he started again, turning to speak to the door, “please, y/n. talk to me. what’s wrong? have i ruined this? ‘cos im more than happy to move on and pretend i didn’t say anything.”

he heard her sniff, taking a deep breath in as she did - he knew this was her attempt to regulate herself.

“i can’t lose this job, lando. i spent so long getting to where i am now - i can’t risk losing my job,” she said, her head in her hands and tears continued to spill.

“why would you lose your job over me loving you, y/n? that’s on me.”

“because i love you too,” she replied, defeated.

lando is pretty sure this is both the best and worst moment of his adult life. she loved him back, but she still sat on the floor of a hotel room, crying out to him from behind a locked door. he didn’t reply immediately. he understood her fears, he too had considered the impact on both of them if anything ever happened between the two.

“i love my job, lando. i love working with you, with oscar. hell i love everyone i work with. and i can’t put myself in a position of losing that all because i love you more than anyone else.”

oscar’s words ran through his mind on a loop - fuck HR, worry about the consequences later.

“y/n, please open the door.”

she said nothing, and his heart dropped once more, until he heard the click of the latch, and felt the door move from his back. he looked up at her once more, noticing that she still looked beautiful with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. he scrambled to his feet, taking the girl in a tight embrace as he walked the two of them into the room.

“i didn’t want to leave you that morning, you know.”

“i know,” she said, nodding into his shoulder.

“i just - i panicked, you know?”

she moved back, looking up at him confused - why was he panicking? mclaren were never going to sack their star driver over a workplace relationship.

“but then oscar said something that resonated with me.”

“you told oscar?”

“oscar knew before i did,” he said, shrugging, keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“what did oscar say?”

“he said fuck HR. at the time, i didn’t see anything wrong with that. i knew you liked this job, but i was so ignorant to think you’d risk your career for me.”

“it’s not that i don’t want to, lan. im scared,” she replied, tears still rolling down her cheeks as her mind plagued with guilt.

“i know, angel,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead again, “i’m sorry for putting this on you. whatever you want to do next, i’m happy to do. if you want me to leave and never talk about this again, that’s fine.”

“i just need some time,” she said nervously, “i need some time to think. that’s not a no, it’s not a rejection. i just need some time.”

he nodded at her, not necessarily happy about the outcome, but happier than he had been all week.

“and that’s perfectly fine. you tell me when you’re ready and we go from there, ok?” he told her, raising a hand to push the hair out her face, before coming back to wipe away the stray tears on her cheek.

“do you want to stay?” she asked, pulling her hands away to twist her fingers around nervously, “we could watch a film?”

“i’d love nothing more,” he replied, smiling down at her.

he threw himself on her bed, as he always did, making sure he didn’t overstep her boundaries. this whole situation was new to the both of them.

“your hair looked shit this week, you need a trim,” she said randomly as she joined him on the bed, as if she’d been dwelling on it for a while. lando snorted, laughing at her abruptness.

“there we go, there’s the y/n i know - my y/n.”

[genshin-obsessed]

Can you do a Honkai Star Rail vampire au with Dang Heng, Blade, Caelus, and Jing Yuan? Pwetty pwease?

Ooh you know I don’t think I’ve done these for hsr yet o: I’m just doing general hcs but lemme know if you want something specific 💕

✩ Caelus

He’s still new to all this, maybe about five or so years. It’s definitely a work in progress for him. The incident of being turned still haunts him.

He does need to drink more often than the older ones. About four times a week. His urges are still pretty strong and he needs to be locked up on some nights.

When he started dating you, it was fine. He didn’t tell you immediately, duh, and managed to keep it a secret for a while. While he felt guilty, he didn’t know how to tell you.

Well, lucky for him— or unlucky— he ended up biting you accidentally. It was the cliche situation where you cut your hand and he just lost it. Thankfully, he didn’t hurt you too much. He bit a little hard and left a bruise though.

Your blood is by far his favorite. Most likely due to his attraction to you. He doesn’t deny it and will ask on very rare occasions to have your blood. He actually finds it satiates him longer than animal blood.

✩ Dan Heng

Much older compared to Caelus. He was actually born one so he wasn't turned. Apparently, he was turned a few lifetimes ago or something.

While he is older, he’s a more hungry vampire. Instead of feeding twice a week like most of his age, he still feeds four nights a week. He does find he needs less though, like one glass instead of a liter or so. While the urge is there it isn’t super strong except on extremely rare nights.

He didn’t have a hard time concealing his identity when he began dating you. He didn’t think it was safe for you to know at the time.

The way you found out was you decided to surprise him at his place and when you snuck in, you saw him drinking the actual blood. He tried to play it off but you weren’t buying it.

The first time he drank from you was at your request. He never asked if he could have your blood, unsure of how you’d take it. Lucky for him, you offered.

Your blood is so much sweeter and more savory than anything he’s had before and it’s genuinely ruined other blood for him. Animal blood? Might as well be spoiled milk.

✩ Jing Yuan

The oldest out of all of them. He turned so long ago he barely remembers any details. He just knows that it was a friend of his... who wasn't really a friend.

His urges are a lot easier for him to control at this age. He's seen many people bleed a lot and hasn't really lost control. Did plenty when he was younger. He feeds about once a week, he can push it out to two weeks, he'll need more blood. He's extremely careful NOT to go hungry for too long, he doesn't want to accidentally hurt someone.

He doesn't have a hard time hiding this from anyone. He can go out into the sun just fine, but not for too long and he's not constantly hungry.

You found out later in the relationship when he felt comfortable revealing it to you. Thankfully, you weren't too upset with him as it's not a secret he can just tell anyone. Though, any anger sent his way would've been accepted graciously as he did still lie.

The first time he drank from you was your own request. Jing Yuan knows the seriousness of drinking straight from the source, especially with someone he adores so much. Weird things tend to happen. While he can't turn you, there's other... things to be wary of. He does love your blood, it's so good, but he limits himself to once a month, maybe twice if you really want to.

✩ Bladie

He's still a fairly younger vampire but there's a little caveat with him that most don't have. Blade didn't turn properly which leads to several challenges. He remembers exactly who turned him and when as he had been mortally wounded and his friend was desperate to save him.

While he's done a great job controlling his urges, they will hit at the absolute worst times. Namely when he's around you. Everything's gonna be fine, he's been keeping his drinking schedule and boom, you enter the room. It's like his entire body goes into panic mode and he usually just rushes past you without so much as an explanation.

Hiding it is very difficult, actually. So, the others already know. They're the ones who supply Bladie with blood and make sure that he always has enough.

You found out when everyone else did. You just don't know that you're the one who makes his urges go haywire all the time. Bladie doesn't know why and Kafka keeps saying it has to do with something as cliche as feelings.

Well, damn those stupid feelings because one day you insisted on talking to him. The urges hit him, you refused to leave, he was yelling at you, then you were pinned on his bed with him drinking from you.

Bladie won't admit it... but your blood is 100% better than everything else he's ever had. Silver Wolf did gift him human blood as a joke and he did finish it that night but you? Whole different story.

[solarmorrigan]

TW: Discussion of suicide, suicidal ideation, child neglect. Nothing happens in the fic (all hurt/comfort, I promise), but it's very frankly talked about, so please proceed with care <3

-

It takes three weeks.

(In reality, it takes longer than that. It takes until after Steve realizes he’s spending more time at Eddie and Wayne’s new place than he is at his own house. It takes until after Eddie has asked Steve to just move in with them already. It takes until after Steve has packed his things up, and carefully cleaned up the house, and set the thermostat, and informed the pool cleaners, and paid a neighbor to check the mail every few days, and – he hadn’t felt right, just leaving, even though Eddie had repeatedly told him he didn’t owe anyone anything. But it had taken until after all of that, and then–)

Steve had left them a note, a new number where he could be reached, and it had taken three weeks before they came looking. Before they even noticed.

It isn’t a fight, in the end.

His parents are angry that he’d just up and left the house, but they’re much less so when he explains everything he’d set in place before he’d gone.

They want to know if he’ll be asking them for anything else after this (not if he’s safe, not if he’s happy, just if he’s going to keep being a burden).

He tells them no.

And that’s– that’s it.

That’s it.

His mom tells him they’ll call him around Christmas, let him know if they’ll be in town, and then his parents just let him go.

They get up and they leave his living room and they leave his home and they leave Steve’s life and they leave and they don’t look back and they– well, they’d left a long time ago, hadn’t they? A long, long time ago.

Steve is sitting at the end of Eddie’s bed (his and Eddie’s bed, now, their bed; Steve’s still getting used to that, but in a good way), feeling the sort of empty he hasn’t felt since he was seventeen. He’s just sort of staring at the carpet, and then he’s staring at Eddie’s ridiculous polka dot socks as Eddie steps in front of him.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “You, uh… okay?”

It’s kind of a ridiculous question – the answer is obvious, and Eddie clearly knows that, but it’s a way to start a conversation without shouting, “Your parents are ungrateful pieces of shit who never appreciated you,” like he probably wants to (and has before), and Steve appreciates his restraint.

He nods a little, stops, shrugs.

“I kind of thought I was over this,” he says. “Over feeling… left behind by them. Shouldn’t still hurt, right?”

“It’s– it’s okay if it does. It’s shit, Steve. They’re shit,” Eddie says (yep, Steve called it). “You’re allowed to be hurt.”

Steve shrugs again.

“It’s funny,” he says, even though it isn’t, “but I used to wonder how long it would take them to notice if I died.”

He’d never had an active plan, really, though there had been plenty of ways around the house to accomplish the task. He’d never really even looked at it as being suicidal, just angry and bitter and lonely. He hadn’t felt miserable all the time, hadn’t felt like there was nothing in the world worth living for – it’s not like he’d been depressed, it had just been a wild, almost satisfying thought that occurred from time to time. The ultimate way to prove a point. To make them see.

And if the urge got too strong, and his head got too full, and his chest felt too hollow, and the house felt too empty, he’d just go out and find something to do. Simple as that.

“I wondered if it would only be a day or two, or if they would come home, like, weeks later and find what was left of me just… floating in the pool or rotting in the bathtub or some shit. And I guess I just got my answer.” He laughs, managing to sound completely humorless even in the attempt, and glances up at Eddie. “Three weeks. How decomposed do you think I’d be by now?”

Except Eddie doesn’t pick up the bit. He’s just staring at Steve, wide-eyed, cheeks a little red, eyes a little wet, and – shit.

“Shit, Ed, I didn’t–”

“Don’t,” Eddie cuts in, voice thick with a shaking kind of intensity, “say shit like that. Fucking don’t ever– Steve–”

“No, Eddie, I’m sorry, I haven’t thought about that in years, this whole thing with my parents, it just… it reminded me, that’s all,” Steve says, even if that isn’t strictly true.

He’s thought about it plenty, he just hasn’t really had the urge to follow through since the first time he took a bat to a demogorgon’s head. He’d traded that empty feeling for one of purpose, of knowing he was needed, and had readily put himself between everyone else and the danger they were facing, because at least that way he filled a space.

(Maybe he’d traded it a little too easily. Maybe there isn’t a lot of difference between using yourself as bait to lure in a demodog and thinking about where all the sharp things are in the house. Maybe that’s something Steve doesn’t need to unpack right now.)

Eddie stumbles forwards, reaching out and cupping Steve’s face in his hands, angling him upwards so Eddie fills his field of vision.

“I would notice,” Eddie says firmly. “I would notice.”

“I– I know you would, Eddie. I told you–”

“Robin would notice. Dustin – all those little shits we hang out with, both Wheelers, Wayne, fuckin’ Byers– we would notice right away, Steve, I swear to fuck, we would,” Eddie goes on, and something is suddenly sticking in Steve’s throat.

“I– I know,” Steve manages to choke out, and shit, why are his eyes wet now? He’s never cried over this feeling before, and it should be too fucking late to start now – except with everything happening, with his parents, with the way Eddie is staring at him like he’s about to disappear–

Eddie bends one leg up until he’s got a knee to one side of Steve’s hip, half-kneeling over him without boxing him in because he knows Steve can’t stand that, and he rests his weight there so he can lean in and press his lips to Steve’s forehead, kissing him, murmuring against the skin like he’s praying.

“We see you, baby.”

And that one hurts.

It fucking aches, like Eddie has somehow managed to reach back four years and jam a thumb into the bruise seventeen-year-old Steve had constantly been carrying under his ribs, and Steve of right now reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shirt and thinks for a moment that he wants to shove him away, but his next breath heaves out like a sob and he can only pull Eddie closer.

“We see you,” Eddie says again, soft but unignorable, before he presses another kiss to Steve’s forehead.

Yeah, Steve thinks, you see right through me.

It’s a terrifying feeling, and Steve wants to swallow it up and keep inside of him where he can feel it forever. He nods against Eddie’s lips, sucking in a sharp breath so he can speak again.

“Okay,” Steve says, clutching more tightly to Eddie’s shirt. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes against the unwanted tears and lets himself feel, instead – the warmth of Eddie over and around him, the near bruising grip Eddie still has on his jaw, the softness of his lips against his forehead, and he thinks that this is what he’d been searching for, all those years ago.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this wanted, and somehow he doubts he’ll ever have to worry about going without it again.

[Prompt: Forehead kisses]

[saltydoesstuff]

Love bites (Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey x Reader HCS)

((All characters are depicted as 18+ unless stated otherwise)) I FINALLY got this done! This has been in my drafts for a w h i l e and I'm so glad to be able to share it! technically suggestive??, biting, jealousy, love bites/marks, cuddling ------------------------------------------------ Raph: - He is an alligator snapping turtle, biting is what his species is known for! - He has chew toys hidden around his room so he can have something to bite into whenever he gets the urge, or when he gets frustrated so he doesn't grind his teeth together fighting the urge to bite. He has a very strong bite force and he doesn't want to hurt anyone. - But with you, as soon as you gave the okay for him to bite you he was a little hesitant. You wanted him to bite you? You were okay with it? He could take out your whole shoulder if he really wanted to! - It'd take a little for him to get used to the fact that you were okay with being bitten, but soon he is more than happy to do so. Biting is one of his love languages, and to be able to do it to you without worry of you getting upset really soothed him. - He is extra careful when biting you, starting off with gentle nips and nibbles along your shoulders when you two are cuddling in his room. Every time he thinks he may have gotten a bit hard on a particular nip he will kiss the spot and ask if you are alright, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. - The only time he would be less gentle in his biting is if he's jealous. Raph is not one to get jealous super easily, nor let it show. He trusts you completely, but sometimes when the person trying to hit on you is just not getting the hint that you are not only not interested but taken- he could only feel the steam coming from his nostrils as he huffs and glared at the person. Afterwards, when you are both are alone- Raph will suddenly pull you by the waist back into his plastron, he head leaning down and snout nuzzled against the side of your neck. "Uh.. Raph?" You ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye, "Are you okay big guy?" There's a brief moment of hesitation, before there is a sharp pain searing into the spot between your neck and shoulder; making you inhale sharply and wince. - Yeah.. you needed a bit of bandages after that. His teeth had broken skin and had you bleeding. The poor guy felt so bad, apologizing frantically as he patched you up. You had to constantly reassure him that was alright, despite his many protests that no it was not alright. He clung onto you for the rest of the night, mumbling apologies and kissing the bandages every chance he could. - Yet despite his immense guilt for hurting you, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got whenever he saw the mark once the bandages came off. It was a physical sign that you were his, and now everyone could see it. - And if you ever bite back? Oh you will have a very flustered and smitten turtle on your hands. Donnie: - He isn't much of a biter. At least.. at first. - Donnie has a bit of difficulty showing physical affection at times, even more so verbally expressing it. Which is why his main go to of showing love is gift giving. - When you both started dating, there was a long adjustment period of getting comfortable with getting physically affectionate past platonic gestures. It started small, linking each other's pinkies together when you thought no one was paying attention and holding hands when you slept together in place of cuddling. Times in the morning where a very sleepy soft shell will come up beside you as you prepared coffee for you both and gently bunt his head against yours as a greeting as he picked up his mug and headed towards his lab.

- It had progressed steadily and soon you often found yourself being the stress toy for your purple clad lover. He had found it actually much easier to work while you were on his lap, so that's where you stayed most of the time when he had projects to work on but also wanted to spend time with you. You would face him, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and arms hugging his middle as he had his head rested on your shoulder to peer down at whatever he was tinkering with that day. His claws would gently run up and down your spine in a mindless manner, and when he got frustrated his hands would come up to your love handles and squeeze while he tried to find a work around. - One of these times, he had gotten a bit too frustrated. He had been working on a new upgrade for Shelldon, but nothing he did seemed to turn out the way he wanted. You were half asleep on his lap at this point, having been there quite a while at this rate. That's when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. - He didn't break skin, but his canines dug into your shoulder just enough to leave a little bruising mark. The feeling was enough to make you jolt slightly with a little yelp, startling Donnie in turn. - He pulled away and looked at you quizzically, not seeming to grasp what exactly had happened at first. Then he takes notice of the mark forming on your shoulder and the man short circuits. - Is quick to apologize and offer to get you an icepack to help the bruising through his own flustered state, stammering and tripping over his words. Yet, his grip is firm- keeping you in place on his lap, like he was afraid you would try to get off after he bit you. - He had chalked it up to simply being apart of his more animalistic instincts, a side he is normally the best at repressing compared to his brothers (at least he tells himself that). Still, he tries to take precautions to avoid making the same error. Unless you encourage the behavior, then he is more lenient towards allowing the action to repeat. Just more gently from now on. - His bites are rare, but when they do come they are gentle and almost teasing depending on the situation. His favorite places to nibble is along your collarbone and sometimes the lobe of your ear. - The only time he will deliberately leave lasting marks is out of jealousy, and as we all know the soft shell is very quick to get jealous. Expect to be covered in marks for the next two weeks.

Leo: - Leo would actually be revealed to be a bit of a biter early on in the relationship, a split moment while you both were play wrestling that he had turned his head suddenly and sunk his teeth into the skin of your wrist while you had him pinned. It had caught you off guard, long enough for the slider to get the advantage and over power you. The next second you found yourself on your back with a very smug turtle straddling your waist. - It didn't seem to click for him at first just what he had done, only as he opened his mouth to tease did he notice the flabbergasted expression on your face did it sink in that he had actually bit you. - His eyes darted from the faint mark forming on your wrist to your face a couple times, looking equally as shocked- only his face definitely felt ten times warmer. - He would try to play it off at first, saying that you two never agreed not to bite, so it was still fair game. "All is fair in love and war, mi vida.~" - The biting would not happen again for a while after that, and Leo would get slightly embarrassed every time you try to bring it up in a teasing manner. Bringing it up in a playful tone that you wouldn't mind being bitten, this only served to make the slider more flustered. - Next time he bites you however, is during a sleepover at your apartment. You both had decided to have a cozy night in, cuddled up on your bed and watching movies through whatever streaming services you have. - You were staring blankly at the screen, trying to fight the effect that gravity was having on your eye lids. Leo was behind you, holding you against his plastron- his snout nuzzled into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing against your skin; not quite enough to lead you to believe that he was asleep, but still gentle. - Slowly, his snout trailed upwards- grazing the corner of your jaw as he moved. You didn't think much of it, assuming he may be simply adjusting slightly to get in a more comfortable position- that was until you felt the tips of his canines catch onto the lobe of your ear, tugging and biting gently. - The squeal that left your mouth is still something Leo laughs about to this day. Your flustered and embarrassed reaction to such an innocent test was hilarious, or so he would say. You would heavily beg to differ on multiple of those points. - Once establishing your comfort with his biting, Leo will bite regularly. Not nearly as much as Raph or Mikey per say, but close. More often than not it's more just to get a reaction out of you, he just loves how red your face gets to the simple actions. Other times to have a physical marker that you were his, even if the bites were only in places that he could see. The action still mattered. Oh don't worry, he would never bite you in public. Only behind closed doors when you both are alone. - If he ever bit you out of jealousy, much like Donnie those marks would be e v e r y w h e r e- and not going away anytime soon. He trusts you completely, but apparently other people won't take the hint that you were his unless they saw you covered in his marks. He takes satisfaction in their reactions and defeat. Only he was your champion, no one else.

Mikey: - Biting is also what Box turtles are known for! It's a form of a courting/mating gesture for his species. - I'd say he'd bite you early on into the relationship in the form of soft nibbles, more playful than anything. Say he has you in his arms and he buried his snout into the crook of your neck, he'll gently nibble at your flesh in-between kisses to fluster you. He thinks your adorable flustered! - It's hard to say if he would ever say why he bites you. He would only answer if you asked him directly about it, as to then he would sheepishly admit what it means to him. If you're uncomfortable with it he will gladly stop though! - If you encourage the behavior however, or even go as far as to bite him back at some point? Oh, he just fell even harder! - His favorite spots are your shoulders, thighs and the tips of your ears, you make the cutest squeaks when his canines nip at your earlobe and he just can't get enough! - His bites will become more frequent during cuddle sessions or play fighting to gain the upper hand, you can't tell me this man would not use tricks to catch you off guard- - Despite it all however, he would be rather gentle with his bites. He knows his teeth are sharp, and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. But from time to time he will get a bit rougher and leave marks. He will make sure to apologize if it starts bleeding, immediately offering to patch it up. He isn't as panicked as Raph is, but still worries. - Jealousy is a whole different matter. Mikey trusts you, he really does! But those flirting with you just don't seem to understand that you are taken sometimes.. perhaps a few lasting marks will fix that! - This sneaky bastard will make sure some of his bites are hard to cover up, wanting people to see them. To see who you belong to. - But overall he is very sweet and caring with his affections towards you, no matter what form they take.

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."

[byeoltoyuki]

❄︎ Not Over you ❄︎

↳ Pairing: Minho x Reader

❧ Genre : demon Minho / dad Minho (kind of) / exes to lovers / fluff / smut / slight angst

❧ Warnings: oral (f), spanking, overstimulation, hair pulling, unprotected sex

❧ Words: +17k

❧ Summary: Minho had it all. He was strong, powerful and beautiful. An immortal that people either loved or feared. Except you. You, a simple human. You who he loved so dearly. And yet, You who had left him heartbroken.

❧ A/N: Hi guys! It's finally out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing ♥. Thank you wifey for dealing with my bullshits and helping me out ♥

Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought about it ♥

❧ Taglist: @hoes4lino , @queenmea604 , @devilsmatches , @straykeedz , @kangyeonie , @malunar28replies , @amastaa , @yoontaethings

Minho thought that after being alive for nearly five thousand years, nothing in this world (or another) could surprise him anymore.

Wrong. Terribly wrong. 

The moment he opened his door and found you shivering and looking terribly worn out, he knew the world had come to its end. Because why would you, his ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, be standing at his doorsteps after almost three years of absence? 

He stared at you, unmoving, face blank, mind empty. It had to be a trick. Or maybe he had finally lost his mind from being so old. It had to be his imagination, his restless mind playing a very dirty trick. Minho closed his eyes, took a deep breath and when he opened his eyes once more, you were still here. No. It wasn’t a trick and it wasn’t just his imagination. 

“What-“ He started and stopped. What was he supposed to say? The urge to slam the door right to your face was so tempting. It was what he was supposed to do. He offered you his heart on a plate, he offered you the world and you trampled on it and left without looking back. And yet, he couldn’t do it. Not when you looked like a ghost, a shadow of yourself. Whatever had happened to you, left a mark on you and despite his anger, his resentment, he couldn’t ignore the tug at his heart. He worried. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally found your voice. Being in his presence overwhelmed you in so many ways. Being finally face to face with him hurt more than you had expected. You knew, going to Minho was a risk; for your heart that despite your choice, never fully recovered, but also for your life. You knew, deep inside you, that no matter how angry, how petty Minho could get, he would never hurt you but you couldn’t control your fears.

Minho opened his mouth, a snarky comment right on the tip of his tongue but all of it vanished the moment his eyes finally fell on what you were holding in your arms. Too stunned with your presence, the dark green blanket pressed tightly against your chest went completely unnoticed. Until now. As he stared at it, he quickly realized that it wasn’t the blanket you were clenching so tightly against you, as if you were scared someone would try to steal it from you. No, it wasn’t just a blanket. Warmth and pure innocence radiated from within the blanket.

Minho took a step back. Surprise, fear and hurt flashed all at once in his eyes. And yet, one question remained. Why were you at his doorstep with a baby?

“I-“ You hesitated as your eyes went back and forth between your little baby and him. “I didn’t know where else to go.” It was the lamest excuse you could come up with but it was also the truth. Of course, there was a whole story behind your presence and you knew, inevitably, you would have to share it with him.

“You got to be kidding me.” Minho growled, frustrated with your explanation. “You come back three years later and with a baby on top of that.” To say that Minho was not amused would be the understatement of the century. He drew nearer, stopping inches from you.

And then it hit him. The scent. The scent, he hated so badly. His eyes widened in shock as he looked at the tiny hand that appeared from under the blanket and grabbed a lock of your hair. “Why is there an angel in your arms, Y/N?”

As he sniffed and tasted more of the baby’s scent, the answer formed inside his head but his heart, already aching just because of your presence, refused it. All color drained from his face.

You averted your eyes from Minho’s face and looked instead at your baby, your little girl and the reason you found your way back to Minho. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at her and press a kiss on her forehead. “Hana is my daughter.”

“No.” Minho refused and put space between the two of you. Maybe he wanted to distance himself from you just so your own scent could stop messing with his mind, or maybe he was hurt because of what this little human-being meant. “There is no way you got pregnant with a fucking angel.”

You winced at his unspoken words. You could perfectly understand his anger, after all, didn’t you leave him because you refused to deal with what he was? When Minho confessed to you about being a demon, he shared his most prized secret; he did it because he trusted you, loved you. But you got scared. You weren’t a strong believer to begin with but when faced with the truth, you had no other choice and it terrified you. You doubted everything and even his love. Demons weren’t supposed to be nice. They weren’t supposed to be able to love and cherish. And definitely not a human.

“I didn’t know.” You whispered, your voice shaky.

“I don’t believe you. You humans lie so easily.”

‘That’s rich coming from a demon.’ You wanted to say but refrained yourself. It would do you no good to pick a fight with Minho. No, you needed his help and if you had to deal with his pettiness and hatred – you will.

“I didn’t know he was an angel!” You said instead, a little bit more confident.

Sadly for you, Minho was far from ready to accept this excuse, even if you were right. Demons and angels had at least two things in common. One, they could hide their identity without trouble. Nobody could tell them apart from humans. Two, they were biggest liars in the world. “Oh come on! They’re not that hard to distinguish.”

“To you maybe! But I’m human, Minho, in case you had forgotten. I don’t see a fucking difference if you don’t show it! I would have never guessed you were a demon just like I couldn’t tell he was an angel.”

“Were you that desperate to get fucked?”

On second thought, to hell with needing his help. You were clearly out of your mind to think even for a second that Minho would accept to help you, to shelter you. You had spent the last ten days running away, never staying more than a night at the same place, too scared to be found, too scared Hana would be taken from you. But Minho’s hatred for angels was apparent and so was his resentment for you. You had to leave before it was too late.

“Fuck you, Minho.”

Hana stirred in your arms, sensing your distress and hurt and anger. You pulled her closer to your face and peppered her tiny face with kisses, trying to comfort her, to tell her that everything was fine as long as they were together. Nobody could take her away from you – you would fight till death.

You turned around to leave for good this time. There was no coming back. But before you could even take two steps, Minho grabbed your shoulder. You didn’t dare to turn around and look at him, too scared of what you would see on his face.

In this moment, Minho hated his treacherous heart for acting on its own accord. He had watched you leave once and it left him in pieces. He couldn’t do it a second time. Maybe he was out of his mind and maybe he would come to regret his decision, but right now, seeing your body so frail, yet your spirit wild and fierce – he couldn’t ignore it.

“Stay with me. For tonight at least.” He finally said. He knew, he probably should apologize for his harsh words, but he couldn’t. “You need some rest and I guess-“ He paused and peaked over your shoulder at Hana. Damn, she was only a few days old but he could already see traces of you on her face. He took a deep breath, “And I guess Hana needs some rest too.”

That night, Minho didn’t get any sleep. His mind was restless, head filled with thoughts of you, of your baby and nothing else. For a while, he laid in his bed, pondering over what he should do with you. Should he let you leave? Should he help you? He was far from being fond of angels but he didn’t want them at his doorsteps either. Not that he was scared of them, quite the opposite. But the truce between angels and demons lasted for the past five hundred years and it should stay this way.

Realizing that he wouldn’t get any sleep, Minho got out of his bed and despite the little voice in his head telling him to stay away from the room you slept in, he walked inside the room. You were sleeping tightly, curled around Hana, keeping her close in fear she would be taken from you.

Now that his anger lessened, he wanted to know the full story. He wanted to know how you managed to go back to your life while he was stuck with the memories of your love. He wanted to know how and why your path crossed with a bloody angel and how in the world he managed to get you pregnant. It was possible, Hana was a living proof, but it wasn’t that easy. Was he jealous? Maybe a little.

“This is madness.” He told himself, unable to tear his eyes away from your body. You had lost weight, too much even, he could see it. For a moment, he wondered how you managed to give birth to a healthy little girl while being in such state. 

Hana opened her eyes, sensing another presence in the room, a shadow hovering over them. She stared at Minho; his eyes flashed red but she didn’t cry, she didn’t budge and simply stared at him in wonder.

“Hello there.” Minho whispered, lightly surprise that the baby didn’t show any fear with his presence.

Hana’s response came in the form of outstretched, tiny arms. Her eyes shone brightly and turned gold.

“Huh. Now, aren’t you precious.” Minho leaned over her to have a better look, his own hand outstretched but he hesitated. She was the result of you and an angel, this thought alone disgusted him. But could he really hate such an innocent part of you? Hana made the decision for him; she didn’t hesitate as she grabbed his finger with impressive strength. Ten days old or not, she was half angel and her strength was already manifesting. “It’s gonna be fun, I can tell.”

Hana seemed to agree as she held his finger a little tighter.

The next time Minho visited your room, you were awake and feeding Hana. You sat by the window, enjoying some ray of sun.

You glanced at him, your heart pounding in your chest at the simple sight of him. There was a lot to discuss, you knew but it didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Minho leaned against the wall and watched you from afar. Ten hours of sleep and you looked more alive than last night but still not enough. Your face was sunk, dark circles under your eyes. It would take you more than one good night of sleep to recover and he was perfectly aware of that.

“You look like shit.” He commented and slapped himself mentally for being rude, unprovoked.

“You would be too after giving birth and running away right away.” Instead of feeling offended by his statement, because he was right, you did look like shit and you felt like shit too, you simply cocked a brow at him.

“Nah. They would be all dead if it was me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course, he would say something like that. But then, you guessed he was right. “Right. The almighty Minho.”

“I actually like the sound of that.” The corner of his mouth turned up, amused with the small banter. It felt better than he expected.

For a moment, it felt like the three years had never happened. You were in his house, with him and joking around. Minho could lie to himself as much as he wanted, but he missed it. A lot.

He cleared his throat and drew closer. He sat on the other side of the bed, keeping his distance just in case you didn’t want him so close. And maybe, a little for his own safety. “We should talk.”

Hana yawned in your arms and slowly closed her eyes. The two of you watched her fall asleep, completely unaware of the dangers lurking in every corner.

“She took after you.” Minho commented, his voice gentle, betraying the fact that he was already growing fond of the little girl, not caring about the fact that she was half-enemy.

“She’s only 11 days old. No way you can tell she looks like me.” You snorted

“But she does.” Minho insisted. “Moreover, she’s half-angel, Y/N, she doesn’t age the same way as you, human do.”

You opened your mouth to protest but then his words dawned on you. You looked down at Hana. You hadn’t seen many babies in your life, but one look at Hana and you would never believe she was only few days old. She looked older. It terrified you to even think how she would look in few months. “How does it work?”

Minho could taste your fear, your pain, he couldn’t ignore it even if he tried. “Don’t worry. It will slow down eventually. You have years before she reaches adulthood.”

You looked at him hopeful. Was he trying to simply appease your mind or was he telling the truth? “Really?”

“Yes.” You almost whipped in relief but held back. You were so damn tired, your emotions were overloaded and it was getting harder and harder to keep it together. But you had to, for Hana’s sake.

“How did it happen?” Minho finally asked and pointed at Hana.

“Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson. Looks can be deceiving and I fell right for it again.” You didn’t intend to sound so bitter but your words hit Minho like a slap. You regretted instantly. “Sorry.”

Minho curled his fists on his laps and tried not to think about his feelings, tried not to think about an angel having you when it was supposed to be him. He tried not to think about how much having you at his place tortured him. “How did you find out he was an angel?” “Well, did you know that my pregnancy didn’t last nine months but five? I got worried with how big I was getting so I went to-“ You stopped and bit on your lips. The name you were about to drop would not please Minho.

“Who did you go to, Y/N?” He too sensed he wouldn’t like your answer.

You cleared your throat. “Amy.”

Minho growled, annoyance showing. “You got to be kidding me.”

“Listen!” You slowly put Hana back on the bed, trying not to wake her up. “I know you were never fond of her and I figured once I found out about that witches and demons don’t get along but I was terrified. Doctors couldn’t explain what was wrong with me but she did.”

Minho tried to be reasonable and forced himself to not make any comment. He didn’t think your story could get any worse but it did with the mention of the witch. Witches couldn’t be trusted. They obeyed to no rules except their owns. “Did she ask something in return of her help?” You paused and simply stared at him. You obviously didn’t know many witches or demons or angels but judging from Minho’s question you easily guessed that his past experiences were bad. “Amy is a friend, Minho. Witch or not. She helped me to go through the pregnancy and she helped me to deliver Hana.”

“She’s a witch.”

“And a friend.” You defended her stubbornly. Amy was a sweet friend, the only one you trusted. Especially after the attack. “You can hate her all you want but you have to know that Amy took huge risks for my sake.” The night everything changed was still fresh in your mind and still just as painful. “Mere hours after Hana’s birth, he came for her along with other angels.”

Before you could even finish, Minho knew where you were heading. He expected nothing less from angels. For both, demons and angels, it was rare to have children, full blooded or not; they would never leave a special child like Hana behind.

“He tried to convince me to give Hana up. Told me it was for the best and that I wouldn’t even know what to do with a special girl like her. And he’s right. I know shit about angels and I don’t want to know. But I will never give up on my flesh and blood. She’s mine.”

Your voice was filled with venom and anger and a will so strong, Minho could feel it in his bones. He could almost pity the angels who dared to go against a mother, against you. Whoever was Hana’s father, knew nothing about you, otherwise he would have known not to mess with you.

“Amy blasted them away.” You continued. “And even if it was a small victory, I was glad. But I also realized that I couldn’t stay with Amy. They would come back and this time they will be prepared. Amy did the only thing she could to protect me.”

Minho had a hard time to believe that a witch would go to such extent for a human. It seemed unfathomable and yet, Minho saw that Amy truly cared about you. At first, he thought it was another fool play, a trick, but he had to admit defeat. 

He rubbed his neck, unsure of what he should tell you. Should he reassure you? Should he be honest with you? “They will come back for her. Angels are petty assholes; they do not forgive. By helping you, she pissed them off.”

You didn’t want to think about what they would do to Amy; you guessed it could get ugly but Hana was your priority, you couldn’t worry for someone else. But you did. What if Amy got hurt because of you? Or worse, what if they kill her? “They won’t kill her, will they?”

Minho’s silence spoke louder. He didn’t think the angels would kill her, no matter how much they hated everything that weren’t them. Witches were dangerous and angering them would not be wise. But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t hurt her enough to make her pay.

“They won’t kill her.” He said in the end. “What happened after you left her?”

“I’ve been running ever since that night.” You admitted. “I didn’t know where to hide and my body started failing me.” 

“So you came to me instead.” Minho wasn’t sure how he felt about it. A tiny part of him was glad that you considered him safe enough to seek his help, but the bitter part of him, the jealous monster wanted to scream at you, to bite you, to hurt you the same way you had hurt him. He did none of that. Minho closed his eyes and took another deep breath before opening his eyes and look at you. “Rest. We’ll talk more when you feel better.” 

As Minho left your room, hand still on the knob, he wondered what he should do. He knew you were right; Amy had taken a huge risk by fighting angels, they would come to punish her. It didn’t sit right with him. She was a witch but she was your friend who stood by your side. 

“You’re making me do some crazy things, Y/N.” Minho muttered as he shook his head in disbelief.   He owed you nothing and yet. 

“Watch after her while I’m away.” Minho ordered and a shadow moved on the wall in response. 

“Your place is boring and so witchy.” Minho commented as he appeared by the fireplace in Amy’s home. 

If Amy was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it, instead she kept mixing the herbs. “Nobody asked for your opinion.” 

“True, but I still thought you needed it.” Minho answered unbothered as he stepped closer to her. The last, and only time he had seen Amy was the day you innocently introduced her to him. Amy, the best friend who happened to be a damn witch. To say that Minho was not thrilled with the knowledge would be an understatement and the feelings were mutual. 

“What are you doing here, Minho?” Amy finally asked, still without looking at him. “If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s not here.” 

“I know. She’s at my place.” Minho didn’t hide this fact. 

Amy snapped her head towards him, shocked with this piece of information. She opened her mouth and closed instantly, words lost on the tip of her tongue. Realizing she had finally showed him her face, she lowered her head to avoid his gaze. She didn’t want him to judge or pity her. 

But it was too late, Minho had seen it all and he didn’t like it. He hoped he would get there first, but the angels worked faster, they wanted their revenge. They hadn’t wasted their time. Fist clenched, he slowly approached her and crouched down before her. “And they say demons are cruel.” Gently he pushed some strands of hair from her face to expose more of the ugly scars the angels have left behind. 

“They couldn’t kill me because of my lineage.” Amy admitted, “Something about a truce with my coven.” 

Angels and their truce, bullshits, Minho refrained from saying. 

“I suppose you already tried to heal it?” 

“Of course. No spells, no potions worked. I’m no match to a freaking angel.” Amy replied with bitterness.

“Well, aren’t you lucky I’m a demon.” Minho’s eyes shone a bright red. Angry, furious even. His hands were itchy, he wanted to fight and to kill. 

“Wha-“ Amy didn’t have time to react; Minho’s hands were already on her face, his grip firm but gentle, making sure not to hurt her. “What are you doing?” 

“Let’s say it’s my way of thanking you for taking care of Y/N.” It was the truth. Of course, it pleased him to go against angels’ plans without them even knowing it, but the main reason was you. He knew you; if you ever found out about Amy’s state you would never forgive yourself. 

“Why?”

“Because she’s the only one I have ever loved.” Minho straightened and looked down on her. “She worries for you.” 

Amy shook her head in disbelief and chuckled. “So typical Y/N.” 

When Minho got back from Amy’s place, his feet led him straight to your room, his body knowing better what he wanted than his mind. You were sleeping peacefully, body curled around Hana, in protection once more. Even unconscious you wanted to make sure she was safe. Minho hated this situation with all his being, but he couldn’t deny that motherhood suited you. 

Just when he thought about leaving your room, Hana’s little giggle caught his attention. Slowly, he approached the bed and hovered over your bodies. Hana was wide awake, her eyes shining brightly and with something very familiar to Minho: mischief. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” He cocked a brow at her. He shook his head, realizing he was getting either stupid or just tired, thinking she could understand him. 

But Hana did understand him as she managed to shake her head, something such a young baby wasn’t supposed to do. Angel’s blood was running strong in her veins. 

Hana outstretched her arms, wanting Minho to take her in his arms. He hesitated. It wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t want to get any more involved but Hana had a strong will, something he was familiar with. She frowned at him and tears formed in the corner of her eyes. 

“Oh hell no. Don’t do that.” He hurried to take her in his arms. One hand holding as carefully as he could her head, the other wrapped around her tiny body. “Let your mommy sleep. She’s exhausted.” 

Hana’s response came in the form of a light slap on his nose, followed by another small giggle. 

Minho’s heart did a little flip; how could he resist her natural charms? He could be jealous of the situation, wishing none of that had happened, wishing Hana was his daughter - in the end, he couldn’t come to hate her. Not when she was a piece of you. Not when she stared at him with the same bright eyes as yours. 

“Come on. Since you don’t want to sleep anymore, I’m going to entertain you while your mommy is resting.” 

Till this day, Minho thought that babies and him would never get along. He thought wrong. Or maybe it was just because Hana was a special baby. She wasn’t afraid of him, not even when his eyes turned red and he tried to scare her. No, she simply giggled and moved her tiny arms, trying to grab his face. Few days old and she was already fearless, he could already imagine the troubles she would bring once older. But he liked it. More than he thought he would. 

“What am I gonna do with you hm?” He asked 

Hana wiggled in his arms, pushing him as strongly as she could, without words trying to make him understand what she wanted. Minho quirked a brow, amused at her attempt to escape his arms. He put her on the couch and observed how easily she rolled over and got on her knees. She stared at her hands, scrunched up her face in concentration. She pushed, once, twice, until she managed to straighten her body and sit only on her knees. A squeal of satisfaction left her lips and she clapped her tiny hands.

“Well done.” Minho watched her, amazed. He sat on the floor, leaning on his hands as he watched her proudly. “I think it won’t take you long to start walking.” In fact, he was pretty sure it would only take another day or two – way to give you another heart attack, he believed.

“I wonder what else you inherited from him.” Minho tried to sound as neutral as he could manage, but even the thought of the bloody angel made his blood boil. He closed his eyes and tried to erase the image of you and an angel from his mind. He tried not to think about the fact that someone else touched you, someone else saw your beautiful smile, someone else heard your pretty moans. He clenched his fists so tight, his knuckles turned white – Hana groaned while trying to reach for him.

“Wha-hold on.” He hurried to outstretch his arms and catch her before she could fall from the couch in her attempt to get to him. “What were you trying to do, little one hm?”

In response, Hana touched his face, at first it seemed like she wanted to pat his cheeks but then she poked playfully his cheeks instead and giggled. Minho blinked in confusion only to realize that it was her unique way to comfort him.

Minho couldn’t help; his mouth curled into a smile. “Thank you, little one.”

Minho felt you way before he saw you. Not like it was hard to miss when your steps were loud and hurried. And not like he could ignore the taste of your panic. You ran down the stairs, almost falling but catching yourself on time.

“Don’t break your neck right now.” Minho commented from the couch, frowning at your sudden appearance.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it right away. All your panic vanished at the sight of Hana, sitting comfortably on Minho’s laps, playing with his hands and looking incredibly happy. Your heart was still roaring in your ears; you woke up to an empty bed and for a moment, you thought he had found you.

“I-“ But you couldn’t think straight.

Minho shook his head and averted his eyes from you. “Take a seat. Hana was getting impatient. She wanted to see you.” Not that she could speak and tell him that, but from her behavior, he guessed. She wanted her mom, no matter how nice Minho was.

You did just as he said and sat on the chair across from him. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Minho was so gentle and so comfortable with Hana. She tugged at his hands, conveying a silent message and he chuckled in response. Minho gently scooped Hana in his arms and brought her to you. Having Hana back in your arms had a healing and soothing effect on you, and yet, before you could fully have her, Hana grabbed his fingers and held tightly.

“I think she likes me.” Minho stated the obvious but with so much fondness, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“I see that.” Your heart swelled with love and a little bit of pride; Hana could already discern who was good and who wasn’t. “How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“What?” You looked at him in disbelief. There was no way you had slept three days. Of course, you were very much aware that your body had reached its limit while you were running away from a horde of angels, but maybe you hadn’t realized the extent of the damages to your body. But it wasn’t the only reason of your disbelief. Minho had taken care of Hana for three days and judging from their little exchange, you believed they had bonded.

You looked at Hana and finally noticed the changes in your baby. You had been out for three days and she already looked different. Older. Nobody would believe she was only days old.

Minho noticed the change in your mood and kneeled before you, Hana still holding his fingers. “She looks more and more like you.” And he wasn’t lie. He had three days to observe, to witness firsthand the changes. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, it was all you and Minho truly believed that she would look even more like you once older.

“She’s growing so fast.” You whispered, terrified of what it meant. “How-“

With his free hand, Minho put his hand on your knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. A simple gesture that set your body on fire. His touch was so familiar, your body reacted on its own, without you being able to control it.

“I promise you, it will slow down.” He tried to reassure you. His eyes darted back and forth between you and Hana who smiled at him. “I-“ He hesitated and couldn’t believe he was about to say it. For the past three days, he thought about what he was supposed to do with you and Hana. The reasonable thing would be to let you leave once you recovered but his heart was begging him to do something else. Something unfathomable. “Stay with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock, so shocked your body shook. “You can’t be serious.” It was what you wanted, of course, what you hoped for but hearing him say the words took you completely off guard. How could he let you stay after you broke his heart? How could he let you stay when you cursed him for what he was and yet had a child with an angel?

“Trust me, I am.” Minho sighed as he got back on his feet.

“Minho.” You didn’t know what to say. Of course, you were overwhelmed; his presence, his gentleness with your baby, him being too understanding. You didn’t deserve any of that, you knew it and so did he. Before your mind could spiral even more, Hana giggled and clapped her hands as if she understood the meaning behind Minho’s words. The two of you looked at her, you amazed and Minho with a soft smile.

“See. She agrees.” 

Even after three years of not visiting Minho’s place, everything stayed the same. The same minty and wooden scent all around the place. Same furniture. Same decoration. But what amazed you the most, and tug at your heart, was the fact that he kept the traces of you. Your little presents, the pictures, he kept it all. Minho was just too good. He could have erased all memories, or traces of you but he had a gentle soul. If demons had one.

You stared for a moment at a picture. The two of you smiling happily together with the beach on the background. You remembered this day vividly, even now. You had begged Minho to come with you to the beach. You were stubborn but so was he, except that you had an advantage, a joker to use against him: he was weak for your puppy-eyes game. He had stayed out of water for the biggest part of the day, but it was enough for you.

You traced the frame with your finger and smiled at the memory. You had pushed him a lot that day which ended with Minho throwing you right into the sea, laughing evilly at you.

You missed the old days.

With a heavy heart, you averted your eyes from the happy picture and resumed your walking. You woke up with an idea on mind: make breakfast for the three of you. There wasn’t much you could do to show your gratitude but cooking was a good start.

Easily, you found everything you needed in his kitchen. You hummed to yourself and started cutting the vegetables. One thing, you and Minho shared was that you both loved salty and sweet breakfast.

“You look better.” Minho’s rough, still sleepy voice interrupted you.

You halted and slowly raised your head to look at him. He rubbed his eyes and then stared back.

It shouldn’t be allowed to look this good, you told yourself but quickly shook this thought off your mind. It wasn’t right for you to admire him.

“Hana?”

“Still sleeping. I think she likes the bed you brought her.” The moment Minho had decided that the two of you should stay with him, for safety, he made some changes to your room. Even if, you didn’t mind sleeping with Hana beside you, he put a nice cradle in your room. The cradle wasn’t the only addition to your room. Shelves filled with plushies and nice accessories were added. He wanted the two of you to feel at ease, at home. It reminded you why you had fallen for him in the first place. Despite his cold demeanor, he was the sweetest and gentlest lover. He cared deeply. Even now.

“Good.” He walked behind you, arm brushing yours – it sent shivers down your spine. You cursed your body once more for being so easily affected, for longing for him, for anything. “Let me help you.”

Minho took a look at the ingredients you displayed on the table and quickly understood what you had on mind. “I’ll prepare the pancakes.”

So easily he saw through you. It was disarming, in a way. You cleared your throat and forced your eyes to keep their focus on the vegetables. “Thank you.”

But who in their right mind could concentrate? You couldn’t. You kept glancing as discretely as possible at him. You didn’t know how he managed to stay so composed, so focused on his tasks while you couldn’t. Your heart was beating loud against your ribs, too loud for your liking. What if demons had enhanced hearing? You didn’t need him to find out how you truly felt about his presence.

But maybe you should have been paying more attention to your work instead of focusing so much on your thoughts and on him. One moment of inattention and you cut your finger.

“Fuck!” You cursed and held your finger. Fortunately for you, the cut wasn’t too deep but deep enough for your finger to bleed. Quickly, you got to the sink and let the cold water wash your cut.

“Let me see.” Minho told you as he gently grabbed your hand and inspected it.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you were unable to avert your eyes from his face. He was so concentrated on your cut, frowning at it. “It’s not that bad.” It really wasn’t. But then, Minho brought your finger to his lips, his eyes on you. “What are you-“ But you never managed to finish; Minho parted his lips and brought your finger to his mouth.

“Minho!” You gasped and tried to pull away from his grip, but he didn’t budge. At all. Instead, you felt his tongue swirled around your finger. Your face heated up with embarrassment, your heart on the brink of explosion. You were in so much trouble.

Satisfied with your reaction, Minho let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving your face. He licked his lips and smirked. “Now, better?”

The cut had simply vanished. You blinked in confusion as you inspected your finger. You came to realize that there was so much you had to learn about demons and their powers. “Was it really necessary?” You tried to hide your embarrassment but your face was too red.

“No. But watching you squirm was priceless.” He admitted, smugly.

“Dick.”

Minho had always been a light sleeper, always on alert; call it years of war between angels and demons, attacks were frequent, danger everywhere, he had to adapt. The moment he heard Hana’s first, tiny sob, he was already out of bed and on his way to your room. He didn’t need to, obviously, you were sleeping in the same room as Hana but his body, possessed clearly, moved on its own. Before she could even start fully crying, she was already in his arms. 

“Sshhh pretty. Let’s not wake your mommy, hmm?” Minho whispered as he rocked her, slowly moving in your room. 

“Minho?” You called, voice weak, eyes barely opened. You tried to rub the sleepiness from your eyes with no success. 

He looked at you, his lips stretched into a small smile. “Go back to sleep.” 

Barely realizing what was going on, you did exactly what he said. You lay down, closed your eyes and let his pretty voice lull you back to sleep. 

“Better.” Minho averted his attention to Hana and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She giggled in return, happy with the outcome. 

You woke up to the gentle chirp of birds. Your window was opened, not that you remembered opening it last night, but for once you didn’t panic. You also didn’t panic not to find Hana in her cradle. Instead, your chest warmed at the thought of Hana being again with Minho. When you first decided to come to him, you never expected to stay and you certainly didn’t expect him to grow so fond of her. It was a miracle. A miracle, you welcomed with opened arms and a little regret. If only you didn’t act so childish back then. If only you had listened to your heart, then maybe, the situation would have been different for the better. Of course, you didn’t regret having Hana, she was your precious treasure, your blood and flesh and you would risk everything for her, even your life. But maybe, it could have been different. Maybe, if you had stayed, she would have been his. 

“Stop it.” You scolded yourself. Regrets were useless right now. 

You climbed off the bed. One look at the window and you guessed it was already late and way past breakfast time. You grabbed the closest piece of cloth; a simple grey hoodie that Minho had left for you. As you put it on, you got overwhelmed with the familiar and comforting scent. His scent. You pushed the collar closer to your nose and with closed eyes you inhaled his scent. Memories flooded your mind. Memories of sweet kisses, of heated touches, of lovely words, of safety. You missed those times. 

On tiptoes, you left your room. Minho’s house was calm, too calm for a place where now lived a baby. You expected to find them easily but no, no sign of Minho and Hana in the living room. You glanced over your shoulder, at Minho’s bedroom door. You hesitated. Were you really ready to go back to this familiar room? A place you had stayed for hours, lying in bed, most of the time naked, under him, on top of him, in the safety of his arms. 

You closed your eyes as a particular good memory flashed through your mind. 

Flashback 

It was way past your bedtime and Minho knew he shouldn’t keep you awake any longer if he wanted you to rest and look good on your first day of work. But Minho had a tendency to be selfish. He wanted to talk more, to touch you more, to feel more of you. Who could blame he when you looked so sweet against him? He had one hand in the air and you didn’t hold back from touching him. Feather like touches, you traced the shape of his fingers, of every vein. 

“I love your hands.” You whispered, captivated. 

Minho chuckled in response, his chuckle vibrating against your cheek. “I wonder why.” 

You rolled your eyes at his remark. So typical of him. Instead you feigned innocence. “What? They’re pretty.” They truly were and he certainly knew how to use them to make you lose your mind. 

“What else?” His voice got darker; it should have been your clue not to push if you wanted to sleep but you couldn’t resist. 

“I lose my sanity whenever I see your pretty hands.” You admitted. How many times you found yourself staring at his hands? How many times, he caught you red handed, imagining all the things he could do with those pretty hands? 

Minho’s smirk grew wider at your confession. He rolled right on top of you and admired your body under him. You were just so damn beautiful. The most beautiful person in the world. With your wild hair splayed all across the pillow, with your pink swollen lips, with your pretty neck covered in marks. 

“And what do you imagine?” His hand found your throat only to slid down slowly from there to your collarbone, to between your breasts. He watched every breath you took, every raise of your chest, every bite on your lips. “Do you imagine how good it feels?” And they slid further down, to your stomach, feather life touches that set your body on fire, pushing yourself more against him, to feel more of him - he smirked, satisfied. 

“Or do you imagine how good my fingers feel inside you?” He asked as he brushed your clit playfully. 

“Shit.” You mewled. How did he always manage to get you so needy? Always ready to beg him to play with you, to take you. You just couldn’t say no. And you didn’t want to either. 

“Is it what you want, love?” He teased your entrance by pushing a finger inside and retreating right after, making you whimper in despair and need. 

“Yes. Shit, baby, please, I need you so badly.” You pleaded and pushed your hips, hoping to get more.

Minho tsked and shook his head. “Such a greedy baby. I thought you told me you had enough for tonight?” And he teased again, watching with awe and love as you let out low whimpers. 

“I can’t get enough of you.” You were ready to say anything to please him and get what you needed. But it wasn’t a lie. No matter how many times Minho touched you, ruined you, you were always left begging for more. You just couldn’t get enough. You were addicted and he was the best drug you could have asked for. 

“Is that so?” He hummed, satisfied with your answer. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against yours. “Always so good for me, kitten.” His lips trailed from your lips to your jaw, to your neck, leaving in his trail tiny bites as he pushed a finger inside you. “I believe you deserve a reward.” 

You let out a sob of relief as he added another finger, stretching you in a delicious way. But the moment he latched his lips around your nipple, was truly the moment you lost it. You arched your back, pushing your chest further. You plunged your fingers into his hair, tugging at the locks, feeling his deep groan against your skin - a sexy groan that made you clench around his fingers. 

For once, Minho didn’t try to control you; he let you rock your hips as you needed to feel his fingers deeper inside you. He let you touch him however you wanted, enjoying every tug on his hair, every little scratch you made - he took everything. 

“Is it what you had imagined?” He asked as he curled his fingers inside you making it impossible for you to speak, a loud moan escaping your pretty lips instead. Minho smiled proudly, feeling that you were close. “Come for me, love. Show me how happy your greedy pussy is.” 

And you gladly did. 

Back to present. 

Your face heated at the memory alone. It happened long ago and yet your body remembered everything; every touch, every kiss, every mark Minho left. 

“Get a grip!” You scolded yourself and slapped your cheeks for good measure. You couldn’t have this thoughts, not now and especially not when you were heading for his room. 

Despite being more than familiar and comfortable with his place, you knocked at the door – no response. Without making any noise, you pushed the door to his room. The room was plunged into full darkness, except for his bedside lamp that was on, the light illuminating the bed and Minho. Minho who was soundly asleep, Hana sleeping on his chest with Minho’s arm around her. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Every time you witnessed some interaction between your little girl and Minho, your heart almost broke with joy.  

“Aren’t you guys super cute.” You whispered to yourself, your hand pressed to your chest as if you could save your little heart from the lovely sight. You wished you had your phone with you so you could take a picture of this moment and maybe so you could tease Minho about being completely in love with Hana.

You smiled to yourself and let them sleep some more.

In a matter of few days, Minho came to realization that your presence along with Hana’s at his place was more than welcomed and felt absolutely natural. He never thought he would need something like that. He never thought he needed a family. For a demon, to wish for a family it was unheard of. It was too human, too pathetic and yet, he could now understand this very unfamiliar feeling.

More he spent time with Hana and more he grew fond of her. Every time he held her in his arms, he couldn’t help but wish for her to be his. Every time she held his hand, he wished he could protect her forever. Every little smile, every little giggle, became his most favorite thing in the world. And you. You, no matter how much he wished he could make you pay for the pain you put him through, he couldn’t find it in him. Every time he looked at your face, his heart ached with longing.  Every time he found himself in your presence, your sweet, captivating scent brought back unwanted memories, unwanted needs. He couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to hold you in his arms, that he wanted to feel your touch, your kisses.

Before he could get any more lost in his thoughts, Hana, playfully, slapped his cheeks. Once, twice, until he blinked and looked at her and quirked a brow. This girl was too fearless. If only she realized that she was playing with a powerful demon (and even then, he was convinced she would still not care).

“Aren’t you being a little bold today, hm?” He joked and pretended to bite her nose – Hana giggled loudly in response which made his eyes to go soft. Yes, she had him, completely, wrapped around her finger.

“Darling, I’m home!” Jisung appeared out of thin air, right in the middle of the room, just like he always did. He threw himself on the couch, too happy to annoy his friend and completely unaware of two new presences in the house. “Missed me?”

Minho should have known that eventually Jisung would pay him a visit at the most unexpected time. He should have warded his place against everybody to keep his little secret a little longer. But now it was too late; Jisung blinked in confusion as he spotted Hana in his arms.

“Holy shit!” Jisung screamed so loud Hana winced and pressed herself harder against Minho. “No, it can’t be. Is it a baby in your arms?” He shifted on the couch, leaning to get a better look at her and then at him.

“Language.” Minho scolded him. “What does she look like? Of course it’s a baby.”

Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes as he gawked at the two of them for a moment, trying to figure out why a baby was in his house. Why, a demon such as Minho, would even be with a baby. But then and because of his attention on her, Hana tried to hide in Minho’s arms and Jisung thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Minho, the big, bad demon, was babysitting. He burst into laughter, holding his stomach. “The guys will never believe me when I’m gonna tell them about you and the baby.”

The urge to kick Jisung’s ass was strong and for Hana’s sake, Minho had to resist it. Instead, he rolled his eyes at his friend and averted his eyes to you, coming out of the kitchen, the apron still around your body. The simple sight of you lessened his annoyance and the sight of your soft smile melted his heart.

“Guess I was right cooking more than necessary.” You commented as you looked at a very confused Jisung. He hadn’t changed at all, still the same loud boy who adored Minho. Not that you could blame him for it. “Hi Jisung.”

“What?!” Jisung jolted at the sound of your voice that he instantly recognized. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe you were back, looking so comfortable and homy. It didn’t sit right with him. Jisung was never the type to hold back and he was ready to share a piece of his mind but he halted. He looked at you, then slowly looked at Hana, noticing the similarities between the two of you. Then, and even slower, his gaze slid to Minho.

“How? What? When?” Jisung didn’t want to jump to conclusion, but what was he supposed to think when the ex-girlfriend of his best friend suddenly showed up? How was he supposed to react seeing his friend, so comfortable (and a tad overprotective) with a baby who was clearly yours?

You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction – Minho gave you the stinky eye in return.

“She’s not mine.” Minho declared to put end to Jisung’s misery and inner turmoil.

Jisung pointed an accusing finger at Minho, scowling. “If she’s not yours, why the hell are you glued to her as if she was yours?”

And just like that, the urge to kick his ass was back. Minho got back on his feet, still holding Hana, as he walked towards you to hand her. You gladly took her in your arms. He lingered, his eyes on Hana and gently patted her head before briefly looking at you. 

“See. This is exactly why I’m not believing you when you say she’s not yours.” Jisung commented, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you. 

You couldn’t blame Jisung for thinking this way; Minho was truly sweet and protective over Hana as if she was his own. If only. 

Minho sighed and turned to face his friend. “Can’t you tell what she is?” 

Jisung tilted his head to the side and truly looked at Hana. It didn’t take long for his eyes to widen in shock as realization dawned on him. He opened his mouth and closed it then looked at you. “What the hell?!” 

“Language.” Minho repeated himself. 

“Minho.” Jisung inhaled sharply, bracing himself. “Why the-why is Y/N here with a baby?” Then his gaze slid to you, frowning and not hiding his dislike. His eyes turned purple, revealing what was hiding beneath this pretty, cute face. You should have known that he was just like Minho and yet it took you by surprise. 

“Jisung.” Minho warned him, standing now right before you, shielding you from him. “Don’t even think about it.” 

Jisung snarled in response. He didn’t look so cute and harmless anymore. Far from it. He took a step towards you. “She left you for a fu-freaking angel, got a baby and now she’s crawling back to you? Did I miss anything?” 

“I didn’t leave him for an angel.” You fought back. You understood his anger; he had all the rights in the world to be angry with you but he didn’t have the right to twist your story. 

“And yet here you are with this thi-“ Jisung never managed to finish his sentence. Whatever he was about to say turned into a shriek as he found himself thrown against a wall with so much strength it left a crack in the wall. 

You blinked in confusion before slowly looking down at your little girl. Hana had her arm outstretched and looked upset, her eyes glowing. So small, so young and yet she already showed so much strength; you couldn’t imagine how stronger she could get. 

If you were both impressed and scared with Hana’s display of power, Minho simply chuckled and ruffled Hana’s hair before walking to his friend. 

“Guess she doesn’t like you.” Minho commented, smirking at Jisung. He grabbed his arm and helped him back on his feet. “Better watch out or she might throw you through the window next time.” 

Jisung whined in response but didn’t comment, still stunned with the outcome. 

 “So. Let me make sure I understood everything. You met an angel without knowing he was one - I still don’t know how you didn’t notice, they’re just bunch of assholes.” That earned him a slap on the back of his head from Minho and a roll of eyes from you. “Whatever. Anyway. He got you pregnant and once you found out what he was you run away. Sounds familiar.” 

You took the blow without a word. But Minho thought differently. He kicked Jisung under the table. 

“Don’t be an asshole.” Minho scolded him.

“Language.” You scolded him in return, even if Hana was asleep in your arms. “I ran away because he wanted to take her away from me.” 

Jisung thought about it for a moment. He looked at Hana then back at you and nodded. “No wonder they want her. They will come for her.” Jisung was scared to ask what the plan was. More he looked at his friend, at his odd behavior and more it worried Jisung. He didn’t hate you, he hated your choice but he also knew you were good for Minho. But you being back with something their enemies wanted badly, was trouble they should avoid. “What’s the plan?” 

“She’s staying with me.” Minho answered without hesitation. 

“Are you mad? She can’t!” Jisung jumped from his place and slammed his hands on the table. “You know they will fight to get her back.” 

“Let them fight. I don’t care.” Minho shrugged. He looked nonchalant about the whole mess and yet you saw through him. He was slowly losing patience. 

“I care!” Jisung insisted. “We’ve been at peace with them for centuries! You can’t throw away the peace just for her!” 

Instead of answering, Minho looked at Jisung right into his eyes. He was cold, indifferent and yet his eyes were burning with rage. “Let them come. I dare them to take Y/N and Hana from me.” 

“Is there really a truce between demons and angels?” You asked as you sat beside Minho on the bench outside his house. The weather was lovely, but it looked too calm for your liking. Especially after the talk with Jisung. Despite Minho’s reassuring words, you couldn’t stop worrying. At any moment angels could appear, provoke a fight in order to get Hana back. And what could you do to stop it? Nothing.

Minho didn’t want to talk about it. Not because it was a forbidden subject but because he had a feeling you would try to leave the moment you found out how bad it could get because of his decision.

“You’re worried because of what Jisung said.” He said instead and observed you. You were avoiding his eyes; your gaze glued to your hands as you kept playing with your fingers, nervous.

“And you’re avoiding my question.”

Minho sighed in defeat. “So stubborn.” Nevertheless, a smile tugged at his lips.

“Minho.”

“Fine. Yes, there is a truce.”

Your heart leapt in your throat at his admission. “I can’t stay here. You had enough shit to deal with.” You stood up from your seat only for Minho to grab your hand and pull you back.

“Don’t even think about it.” He growled dangerously at you. The mention of the truce was enough to turn his mood sour but the mention of you leaving was even worse.

One glance from him should have silenced you but your fears were stronger than his menacing glare.

“You know I can’t stay!” You protested, body fully turned to him. “I brought my problems to your doorstep because I knew the only place I could be safe would be with you. But I didn’t know the consequences. I can’t let you risk all for me.”

“Shut up.” Minho snapped, his eyes turning red. Minho was pissed, alright. He tried desperately to keep his temper in check but your words and the simple mention of you leaving pushed him to the edge.

“Min-“

“You made your choice three years ago. Let me make mine today.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. The moment he opened his eyes, they were back to their normal color. All trace of anger vanished just like that and was replaced with softness and sorrow. “It’s unfair how much hold you have over me, Y/N. It’s dangerous for so many reasons, but it seems that I just don’t care. You could stamp on my heart again and I’ll let you.”

Once more, he took your hand and squeezed gently. His hand was warm and soft and so comforting you almost wept. “I wish I could hate you.”

“But you don’t.”

“No I don’t.”

Living with Minho was everything you had imagined it would be and more. Easy, comfortable, filled with banters and sweet moment that usually involved him and Hana. You easily found the right rhythm that suited the two of you. Whenever he had to leave, he always made sure that someone he trusted stayed behind. Sometimes it was Jisung, sometimes it was another of his friends. All of them were wary of Hana at first and of you of course, but one big smile from Hana and they melted. Especially Jisung.

Just like that six months passed. Hana’s power grew stronger every day; throwing people against walls was the least of your concern. Whenever she threw a tantrum the whole place would shake and things would fly around. If at first it scared you because you had absolutely no clue how to deal with such incredible and powerful baby, you got used to it. Minho happened to be a great help with it too. A flash of his bright red eyes and Hana would always calm down. Sometimes later, you believed, she would go against him but for now it did the trick.

Hana’s powers weren’t the only thing that grew. She did too. Despite being only six months old, she looked much older. And she could talk which made things much easier and your life livelier.

Your life turned out as normal as it could get with a half angel baby and a life with a demon, but there was still one thing that bothered you. The lack of activities from angels. Minho barely talked about it, telling you every single time not to worry, that he would deal with it when times come but it made you wonder. Did he talk to them? Did he persuade them to give up? You gathered from the few conversations with Jisung that Minho was someone angels avoided and would not mess up with unless necessary. It made you wonder just how strong Minho was.

“A problem for another day.” You told yourself as you took a deep breath.

You put the different snacks on the plate and headed outside to join both Minho and Hana. The weather was lovely and perfect, not too hot and not too cold, just what you needed to enjoy a little afternoon all together. A big blanket was splayed on the ground, Minho laying on it with Hana sitting on his chest and clapping her hands.

Despite living under the same roof, you didn’t witness many times his display of power. Today however he was using it freely for Hana’s pure enjoyment. Butterflies formed from shadows flied all around them, all around Hana, playing with her hair. It was a pretty sight and you enjoyed it almost as much as Hana did.

“I think it’s the first time I’m seeing you use your powers.” You admitted as you put the plate beside them but still far enough to avoid any accident. Just as you said those words, a butterfly landed on the tip of your nose, tickling you softly.

Minho looked at you, smiling so fondly, your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell whether it was because of Hana or because of the two of you but you appreciated the moment all the same. His smile was contagious as you leaned to plant a kiss on Hana’s cheek.

“He made so many butterflies! Just for me!” Hana explained to you, voice filled with excitement and cheerfulness as she spread her arms widely for butterflies to land on her.

“Just for you.” Minho confirmed. Then, with a flick of his hand a shadow formed around you, circling you before taking form. “And this one for you.” A black cat made of shadows.

Hana applauded louder than ever and tried to reach for it– she failed and fell beside Minho. The two of you stared at her, trying desperately to stifle the laugh. Minho being the strongest managed, you, not so much. Hana raised her head and glared at you; her glare reminding you awfully of Minho.

“This is so you.” You pointed at her scowl before looking at him. “She’s imitating you.”

“She’s learning from the best.” He said proudly.

You rolled your eyes at him and chose not to respond. Instead, your attention was on the cat that kept turning around you, brushing your knees every now and then. You reached out to pet it and immediately the cat came to bump its head against your hand. Despite it being made of shadows, it felt warm against the palm of your hand. Warm and familiar – like Minho which you supposed made sense, it was his power, a part of him.

“Just wait when Jisung hears about it.” You teased knowing that Minho would rather die than show his soft side to his friend.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned you sounding threatening if not for his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You were tempting the devil, you knew it and didn’t care. “Or what?”

Minho quirked a brow at your provocation. “Do you really want to find out?”

You grabbed a grape and shoved in your mouth to hide your smile, to hide how this little game was truly affecting you – Minho saw it anyway. “Someone is playing with fire.”

“Who?”

“How cute.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You knew this voice. The deceptive one. The one that made you believe that you could love again. The one that managed to get through the walls you had built around yourself after the breakup. The one that seduced you. He was here. He had found them.

In the blink of an eye, Minho was on his feet, standing before you, fists clenched, eyes red. All trace of happiness, of genuine smiles vanished to replace with wrath and the urge to fight. To protect.

You hurried to scoop Hana in your arms as you stood behind Minho, watching five angels standing too close for your liking. They looked relaxed and satisfied. You bet they were. It took them six months to find you and finally they were so close to their goal.

“I’ve been wondering who managed to hide you so well.” Soobin said, unbothered, completely ignoring Minho’s presence. His eyes were on you and on Hana. “But to think you would hide with a demon. I’m both impressed and disgusted.”

Hana was shaking in your arms. Your grip around her tightened. Just like Minho, you were ready to fight if needed. There was no way you would give up your child, your happiness without a fight.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” And as he said those words, he took few steps towards you.

His mistake. Maybe he should have paid more attention to Minho. To what and who he was. The moment he took those steps, darkness erupted from everywhere. The beautiful blue sky turned black and so did your surroundings. It felt as if life itself was being sucked from everywhere. It was only then that Soobin’s attention shifted to Minho. His eyes widened in shock before his mouth set in a hard line.

“You.”

You stared at Minho’s back in disbelief and wonder at the same time. You thought you knew what he looked like as a demon, thought the only changes were his eyes. You were wrong. So terribly wrong. Because the man that stood protectively between you and the angels looked completely different. Strange and yet still so familiar.

Black marks covered his arms from his wrist to his shoulders and you suspected it went beyond. The tip of his fingers were black and with claws. Even his hair seemed a little longer. Shadows surrounded him, following his every gesture. He looked absolutely deadly and magnificent.

“Take my advice and leave.” Minho simply said. For the sake of his friends, Minho chose to use threats instead of fighting, no matter how much he wanted to kill them all. So what if some angels went missing from heaven? It wouldn’t be a big deal. Good riddance even.

“I can’t.” Soobin recovered quickly. While his friends were ready to fight, he hesitated. “I really don’t want to fight you. Nothing good will come out of it.”

Minho snorted at that. “Why? Scared that this time I will actually end your miserable existence?”

Minho’s remark made you snap from your observation. As you scrutinized the two men, you quickly realized that they shared a past. They knew each other and not only because they were sworn enemies. No. There was something else and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing.

“Mommy, is Minnie in trouble?” Hana whispered as she glanced at Minho. She outstretched her arm, wanting to reach for him but you stopped her by hugging her tighter against you.

Hana, despite her young age, recognized the danger when faced with it. You couldn’t lie and tell her that you weren’t in trouble, but Minho. Minho looked so composed, so confident, it made you wonder who would come out victorious if they fought.

“Don’t worry.” You whispered to her. “Minho is the strongest person I have ever met. If anything, they are in trouble, not him.” You kissed the crown of her head and prayed that it would be over soon.

“Do you think you can fight all of us?” Soobin dared him. Maybe a part of him truly believed that they stood a chance against Minho. Or maybe he bluffed.

“Want to find out?” There was at least one person who wasn’t bluffing and it was Minho.

He didn’t hesitate, not even for a second as his power spread. From the corner of your eyes you spotted movement; fast and lethal. The shadows took form, solidifying, turning into giant monsters that stood beside Minho, protecting him, waiting for his orders.

“She’s mine.” Minho growled. His growl loud, dangerous and filled with so much venom, goosebumps spread all over your skin in response. You didn’t fear Minho. You trusted him with all your being but it didn’t mean your body didn’t recognize the predator that stood before you. The incredibly beautiful predator.

“She’s mine.” He repeated and you swore you heard the monsters repeat his words.

And his words, his possessiveness echoed in your mind, in your heart. And you watched as this beautiful, dangerous man, despite everything, stood proudly before you. Watched him as he was ready to fight for the two of you, not only because he offered you a roof but because he truly cared for Hana. You heard it in his voice. You saw it every day; he truly loved Hana as his own.

Tears shimmered in your eyes as so many emotions raged inside you. Love, gratitude, pain, longing. All of it.  You couldn’t stop yourself as his name escaped your lips. It was barely audible but he heard it anyway. He always did.

Minho glanced over his shoulder and your eyes locked for a moment.  In this moment, there was so much you wanted to tell him. To tell him you were sorry, to tell him to be careful and that they couldn’t live without a world where he was not. And Minho being Minho understood it. He shook his head and winked playfully at you before returning his attention on the angels.

“Leave.” He said, “You interrupted our peaceful family moment.”

“You’re a fool, Minho.” Was the last thing Soobin said before vanishing along with his friends.

“So I’ve been told.”

The three of you stood in silence for a moment. You, still speechless; because of Minho’s true form and at the same time because he managed to make the angels flee. Minho, because he was still trying to sooth his anger.

“Minho.” You called for him.

Slowly, and after taking a deep breath, he turned to look at you, expecting to see fear and maybe disgust in your eyes. He saw none of it. Instead, he found you standing close to him, your hand outstretched for him to take.

“Let’s get back inside.” And you smiled.

“No! I don’t want to sleep!” Hana protested and kicked her blanket with as much strength as she could muster after a long and rather emotional day.

You frowned at her before looking at Minho in despair. You had tried everything to force her to sleep but nothing worked. It was one of those days.

“What if the bad guys come back?” She muttered as she pressed her teddy-bear closer to her heart. “What if they try to break us apart?”

“Oh baby.” You wrapped your arms around her and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “They won’t come back.” At least you hoped so.

Minho joined you on the bed. He leaned closer to Hana and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. “You don’t have to worry about the bad guys. I kicked their-“ He stopped himself on time, glanced guiltily at you, before adding, “I mean, we fought already once and they lost. I’ll fight them again and they will lose. Nobody will take you from me.”

“But what if they try to take mommy away?”

Her words hit deeper than you thought. Too scared to see Minho’s reaction, you kept your eyes on her, but your heart was beating fast and loud. Would he fight for you? You didn’t know and were scared to find out.

“Not going to happen.” Minho confirmed and ruffled her hair fondly. “You have nothing to worry about. So sleep or else we’re not getting your favorite cake tomorrow.”

You looked at him, eyes boring into him at his admission. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but his words soothed your fears, more than you were willing to admit.

Once sure Hana was asleep, the two of you left the room. You wanted to talk some more with Minho, to discuss the incident with the angels but it seemed like Minho was either avoiding you or simply had enough for one night.

“You should go back and sleep.” He advised you without looking at you. “Good night, Y/N.”

The wise thing would definitely be to go back to your room and sleep but you were known for not being very wise. He should have known. Without making any sound, you followed him and you bet he knew it.

Minho went back outside, his shadows following him. It made you stop and observe. It fascinated you how they were simply part of him, always following him, protecting him. They spread behind, almost reaching you and halted as if hesitating to touch you.

“You have a mind of your own?” You felt silly for talking to a shadow but it reacted. It moved again and wrapped around your ankle. You expected to shiver, you expected it to be cold but it wasn’t. It was a warm caress. Just like Minho.

You followed Minho outside and the shadow followed your every step, maybe because it was fun or maybe because it appreciated your company.

Minho’s power spread around the house and marks appeared in the air. You didn’t recognize any of them, not even from your time with Amy, but you easily guessed it was in order to protect the place.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He asked

“I got distracted.” You admitted

“With what?”

“You.”

Minho chuckled in response, half amused, half surprised with your admission. With his hands tucked in his pockets, he approached you, smirking devilishly at you. And you? You gulped, nervously. To save yourself from this beautiful creature, you averted your eyes from his face.

But Minho was in a rather playful mood. “And how exactly am I distracting you?” A finger under your chin, he tilted your head to make you look at him.

It was pure torture to be so close to him and yet not being able to fully touch him. It was torture to have him watch you so closely – you bit your lips and his eyes followed the gesture.

“Be careful. I might bite.”

Minho thought that nothing could terrify him in this world. He was once more wrong. After the recent events, he came to realize that the idea of losing Hana truly upset him. He couldn’t imagine a day without her. Not anymore. But it wasn’t the only thing that scared him. No. Hearing your screams shattered his heart in thousand pieces.

One scream from you and he was out of his bed and appeared in your room, ready to fight whoever managed to get through his wards. But there was nobody in your room. No signs of breaking. Nothing except for you fighting invisible enemies in your sleep.

“Y/N.” He called for you in hope to wake you from your nightmare.

But you didn’t wake up. Not even when he joined you and grabbed your arms, trying to stop you from hurting yourself. Not even when he took you in his arms and tried to reach your mind.

“Come on, love. Wake up.” He whispered to your ear and kissed your forehead. “You’re safe. Hana is safe. I’m here.”

Minho rocked you in his arms while, slowly, your body started to relax and you stopped fighting. He kept you in his arms and watched your every breath and listened to your heartbeat.

“Come back to me.”

And you did. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the familiar face and soft eyes. With familiar warmth spreading through you.

Minho smiled. “Hi. Bad dream?”

“Yeah. But now I think I’m dreaming again.” You managed to say. You didn’t know what shocked you more; your nightmare or the fact that Minho was in your bed, holding you.

Minho chuckled at your attempt at being funny. “Nope. Not a dream, I’m really here.” And to prove his point, his hold around you tightened. “Make room, I don’t think I can go back to my room now.”

“Who say I want you in my bed?” You obviously wanted him in your bed. Not only because you were scared of having another nightmare, but also because his presence alone was everything you needed. You wanted him close to you, you wanted him to keep holding you.

Minho rolled his eyes and pushed you playfully to make room for himself. He thought he was being polite by asking, but really, his decision was made the moment he got inside your room.

“What a gentleman.” You commented but gladly lifted the blanket for him to settle under.

“A trait of my personality that you used to love.”

“Still do.” You hadn’t meant to speak aloud but the words left your mouth anyway. You froze beside him and then cleared your throat. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t fret.” Minho pulled you back against him as if it was the most natural thing to do. And it used to and it still felt the same. Good. Right. “Was your nightmare about angels?”

You shut your eyes and tried not to think about it, but the image was still fresh in your mind. “Yes. They were trying to take her away from me.”

“You know that I was sincere when I told Hana that I won’t let them take you away right?” But despite the sincerity in his voice, you didn’t look at him. You didn’t want him to see the tears in the corner of your eyes. Minho gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “You do know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, right? Nothing I can deny you.”

“I let you out of my sight once. I’m not doing it again.”

After that night, something had changed between you and Minho. Maybe it was because of the attack and fear of another one. You weren’t stupid; it couldn’t be just that easy. One threat from Minho and they left you alone – it didn’t make sense. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the angels and more to do with the late confession.

From the moment you had left Minho, you knew, deep inside you, that it was the biggest mistake of your life. Yes, you were allowed to be scared, to feel insecure and doubt but it was Minho. You should have listened to the little voice – the one that whispered late at night. The one who reminded you every good, magical moments you had spent in his company. The one who reminded you every time you tried to start anew that no matter how nice a man was; nobody could compare to him. Nobody could compare to how he made you feel. How deep was his love for you. You tried to reason yourself. You tried to bury your feelings, your love and your regret.

But look at you right now? You were back to the very same place you had run from. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

And yet, he still cared for you. He was stilling willing to fight for you, protect you from everything and from everyone. You didn’t want to hope, to expect anything more from him but could you really ignore this tiny part of you? You couldn’t. You couldn’t ignore the lingering eyes on you. You couldn’t ignore his little touches; simple brushes of arms that set your skin on fire. You couldn’t ignore the attention he gave you.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer.” Minho teased you. Without realizing it, you had been staring at him for too long, lost in your own little world.

Your face heat up; it was a tad embarrassing to be caught red-handed, especially because you would never hear the end of it. “Why would I when I see the real thing every day?” You managed to say with a huff and averted your eyes from his face.

Minho chuckled at your attempt to save your face but it was too late. He had seen it all and enjoyed every second of it. “Maybe so you can frame it and put it on your bedside table?” He closed his book, finding that teasing you was so much more interesting. He watched you like a hawk as he got closer to you – you took a step back.

“What were you thinking about while staring at me like that?” He grinned as he leaned closer, eyes never leaving yours. He enjoyed the effect he had on you; the flush on your face, your breathing and especially how loudly your heart beat.

You took another step back only to meet the wall. You were trapped and at his mercy. And whatever Minho wanted, he always had it. Including the truth out of you. “Like what?”

Minho’s grin turned into a full smirk. He leaned, a hand resting on the wall right beside your head. “Were you thinking about how handsome I am?” And he leaned even closer, mere inches between you. “Or were you thinking about something naughty? That wouldn’t surprise me.”

You gasped at his words. “Why would I?!” You tried pushing him away for the sake of your sanity. His closeness, even if much appreciated (if not too much), was driving you nuts. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think about anything else but his body so close to yours.

But your attempt was another failure. Minho didn’t budge, not even a little.

“So you were.” He teased, unable to stop himself.

“I was not!”

Minho’s lips were hovering over yours, leaving no space between your bodies. His warmth spread through your own body like fire. All you had to do was to tilt your head and you could kiss him. So damn tempting.

“Be honest with me, Y/N. Say what you want.”

And it would be so easy, wouldn’t it?

Not under Hana’s watch.

“Mommyyyyyyy!” Hana called while running in the room, so fast Minho had barely the time to put some space between you. “Look, look!”

You tried, you really did, but your dizziness prevented you from concentrating on anything other than the man beside you and the thought that you almost kissed. Almost.

“What is it?” Minho was the one to recover, fast, as always.

Hana showed him the palm of her hand, proudly. Tiny balls of light floated around her hand. Slowly at first and then it spread. The balls got bigger and slowly the shape changed and turned into butterflies, identical to the ones Minho had made for her, except they were made of lights and not shadows.

Minho whistled, impressed with how easily Hana managed to learn the trick. How easily she managed to learn to control her power. He crouched to be at her level and admired her work closer. Impressive indeed.

“Well done.” He ruffled her hair.

From the day you started living with Minho, and especially after the little visit from angels, there was one thing you didn’t think you would ever witness. A talk between Soobin and Minho.

You woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty and a little disoriented. You didn’t know what time it was except for the fact that it was still late considering the darkness you spotted from your window. Without making any noise, you hurried to get to the kitchen, wanting to go back as quick as possible to the warmth of your bed. But before you could walk back to your room, you noticed that the front door was opened. Not widely but enough to worry you. Your instinct told you to get to Minho, to warn him but your body moved on its own. You walked on tiptoes. Closer you got and louder the voices got from outside. Voices that you recognized easily. Voices that you didn’t expect to hear so soon together.

“I can’t believe you would go so far for a human.” Soobin admitted as he ruffled his hair in frustration. “You used to kill them on sight.”

You clasped your hand over your mouth to prevent any noises, to stop yourself from gasping out loud. Why the hell was Soobin here? And more importantly, why did he look so comfortable around Minho? It didn’t make much sense.

“Y/N is special.” Minho simply replied without elaborating.

Soobin paused to observe Minho. The demon he knew would have never praised a human, no matter how pretty the person was. “She’s human. A pretty one, yes, but still human.”

“One that bore your child. You can’t deny she’s special.” Minho reminded him. It hurt him to even mention the fact that Hana was his child, he wished he could forget this fact but he also needed Soobin to realize that you weren’t just any human. You were different.

“When you put it like that.” He sighed. “You know the child is special. I want her.” He winced when Minho’s eyes flashed red. A silent warning that Soobin took seriously as he raised his hands in defense. “Are you really going to start another war for them?”

Minho didn’t answer. He had the answer right on the tip of his tongue but his attention was somewhere else. On you. Despite your attempt at being discrete, he could feel you, too close to them for his liking. Soobin, on the other hand, was oblivious.

“But it’s not only about the child, is it?” Soobin realized in disbelief. “It’s about Y/N. Is she worth it?”

“To me? Yes.” Minho took a dangerous step towards him. Everything about him screamed danger. Just one wrong word and this almost friendly encounter would turn to a bloody one. “I don’t particularly like you, Soobin. But I don’t hate you. But should you come back with an army, I will fight you and I will end you for good, this time. I won’t let her go. Not her and not Hana.”

“Is it a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Soobin shook his head. “You’re crazy.” Only then, he noticed you by the door. You couldn’t help yourself as you got closer, body shaking and teary eyes. His own eyes softened at your sight. He liked you, in his own odd way. Yes, you were a special human.

“And I must be crazy too.” Soobin sighed in defeat. “Take care of them. I can’t promise you that we won’t be back. But I’ll take in consideration your promise.” And with that he vanished into the darkness of the night.

“What a pain in the ass.” Minho groaned and turned to face you. He observed you for a moment, frowning at your state. “Why are you crying?”

Minho knew from the moment he felt your presence you would end up hearing them but he didn’t care. He had nothing to hide; not his business with angels and definitely not how he felt about you. It was about time he addressed the matter and tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so. 

“I-“ But no words left your mouth, too overwhelmed with your own feelings. 

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he got closer to you. “Say it.” Minho knew you well enough to know what was going through your mind. He always could read you easily, then and now. 

It frustrated you how easily his words unsettled you, how easily your heart answered his call. You didn’t want to hide how you felt, how badly you wanted to go back to what you were. But you didn’t deserve it. Not after hurting him over and over again. 

“Y/N. Say it.” His voice was calm and gentle when really, inside he was dying to hear you say it. He wanted to hear your confession and ease his mind and heart. 

“I don’t deserve you.” You finally managed to whisper through tears. “I can’t say it, Minho.” 

He shook his head and gently cupped your face. “I still want to hear it.” 

You looked at him, heart roaring in your ears. “I’m sorry.” There was so much you should apologize for, but your mind was a mess and you weren’t sure you could convey all your feelings. But you still were willing to try. For you, for Hana, for him. Especially for him. Because Minho deserved it. He was always there for you, then and now. He showered you with love then and he still did it today. He showered Hana with the same love when he could have hated her for what she was. But he didn’t. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for being an idiot and getting scared. I should have listened to my heart. I should have known that despite being a demon, you were sincere, that you cared so much for me. I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

Minho stroked your cheek with his thumb, gently wiping your tears. “When you showed up at my doorstep, I really wanted to slam the door to your face. Just the sight of you brought back unwanted feelings, unwanted needs. But I couldn’t do it. I saw how fragile you were and my heart refused to let go. Refused to let my bitterness stands between you and me.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeated. You bit on your lips to prevent another sob but your face told him everything he needed to know.

Minho leaned over and kissed your right eye, tasting your tears, and then the left one. “I never stopped loving you. Not even when you broke my heart.” He kissed your nose, your cheeks, making you tremble even more. “I’m not letting you go again and if it means I have to start another war then so be it.”

“You’re cra-zy.” You managed to say through a hiccup.

“Can you blame me?”

You couldn’t.

Satisfied with your reaction, Minho kissed the only part of your face he hadn’t touched, the only part he desperately wanted to touch. At first, it was a simple brush of his lips, light and hesitant. Maybe he was giving you one last chance to pull back, to escape – as if you would. Never again. Minho’s hold on your face tightened as he pressed his lips a little stronger, unable to hold back any longer. And he didn’t need to; you wrapped your arms around his, tightly as if your life depended on him. And you kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, with the same need and despair.

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. “Don’t ever leave me again, Y/N.”

The simple mention of leaving brought back tears to your eyes. You clung to him as strongly as you could, shutting his mouth with yours. In that moment you realized that you would rather die than leave him again.

“Never again.” You promised

Minho scooped you in his arms. A peck on your lips followed by a smile so bright you weren’t sure you had ever seen it on his face.

He carried you back inside the house and straight to his room. Minho dropped you on his bed. He stood by his bed for a moment, admiring the sight of you in his bed, admiring your parted lips, admiring the look in your eyes. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. And there was so much he wanted to do to you. He wanted to taste you, to claim you and make sure that nobody would ever touch you. He wanted to make you scream and make you remember who you belonged to.

“Are you sure about it?” He asked one last time for good measure.

You smiled at his attempt, at his gentleness. You spread your arms widely. “Come and claim me.”

Minho closed his eyes and took a short moment to calm himself, to let your words sink in. You were his. He grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Despite knowing his body for years, you couldn’t help but suck in your breath in amazement, in need. He was so helplessly perfect. Strong, lean body that you were dying to touch again, to feel the smoothness of his skin against you.

“You’re drooling.” Minho teased, yet incredibly satisfied with your reaction.

“Can’t be helped when you look this good.” You didn’t try to deny, there was no point when your body was reacting so strongly to his presence.

Minho’s hands found their way to your ankles, softly massaging them making you moan in response at his gentle touch. Slowly, his hands travelled from your ankles to your calves, to your knees, setting your body on fire. You were burning with need and longing.

He grabbed your shorts and pulled them just as slowly from you. He knew that you were desperately needing more and so did he, but where would be the fun if he gave everything to you right away? It all came apart the moment he realized you weren’t wearing any panties; the scent of your arousal hit his senses. He let out an animalistic growl. This same fucking sweet scent that used to drive him crazy.

Growing just as impatient, you took off your shirt and threw it somewhere on the floor, eyes never leaving Minho. Your heart was roaring; your body was burning. “Touch me.”.

In response, Minho leaned over you and claimed your lips in a heated kiss. His hands were roaming freely all over your body, touching, groping, fondling. “So fucking beautiful.” He dragged your lower lip playfully with his teeth. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck, leaving bright marks. He marked every inch of your skin; your neck, your chest, your stomach.

“Can’t believe you’re a mom.” He planted kisses all over your stomach, worshipped every tiny scars, marks that were left on your body. “And such a good mom.”

The moment his lips connected with your clit, all air left your lungs; your body jerked in response. Minho feasted on you, savoring the sweet taste of you, the one he had missed for so long. The stroke of his tongue were determined, determined to make you scream, to make you come apart with just his tongue.

“Minho,” You moaned as your head fell back. Your body responded to his touches so easily, so eagerly. There was no stopping. You couldn’t ignore how loud your heart beat. You couldn’t ignore how wetter and how your body tingled with every flick of his tongue. But you needed more. You rocked your hips against his tongue, seeking to feel more, to feel him deeper.

“I want to spend the whole night buried between your legs.” Minho confessed and glanced at you from between your legs. The sight of his mouth covered with your wetness made you clench around nothing. He looked absolutely sinful and gorgeous.

“Minho, please.” You begged, your body aching with need of release.

“What is it?” He teased and gave a harsh suck. “Use your words.”

As if you could when he was devouring you like this. He knew it and still teased.

“Please, I’m so close.” You mewled and pushed your hips closer. “Please.”

“How can I say no when you beg so prettily?” He kept licking and sucking with even more eagerness, more strength. His grip on your ass tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he ravaged you.

“Minho!” You cried out as a wave of orgasm hit you.

He could have stop, could have let you a moment to recover but Minho was insatiable. He wanted and needed more; more of you, more of your taste, even if it meant to drive you crazy. So he kept feasting on you. He didn’t stop. Not when your body trembled under his assault. Not when you grabbed his hair and pulled, softly at first and stronger as your sensitive body was torn between the wish to pull away from him and let him end you right on the spot. He didn’t stop when a second orgasm hit you, even stronger than the first. He didn’t stop even when a third one hit you, so powerful you screamed his name.

“Please, I can’t.” You begged, tears streaming down your face, half delirious. Your whole body was so sensitive; you couldn’t bear it.

Minho smirked at you, pleased with his work, pleased with the way you looked; lips swollen, body covered with his marks and pussy wet and ready to take him. He quickly disregarded his last piece of clothes before going back to you, his hands sliding up and down your legs – you shook under the touch, still sensitive.

“Guess you forgot what it’s like to be overstimulated.” He mocked, “I bet it was boring with the angel.”

Even in your dizziness you understood his words, his innuendo. If you had any strength left, you would have scoffed at his words, instead you nudged him with your leg. A weak attempt at showing your annoyance.

“Should I remind you what you really like? Hm?” He challenged you. “Should I remind your pussy that it was made for me? Only me?”

“Stop talking and just show me.” You provoked him, knowing too well that he would make you pay and that it would leave you shattered and unable to walk for the next five business day. Exactly what you needed.

“So bold.” But he loved it. With ease he flipped you over. His hands found their rightful place on your ass. Such a beautiful one that used to be red with his handprints. He caressed your ass, lovingly, slowly and then gave it a strong first slap followed by another and another. Your body jerked as you moaned.

“Much better.” Minho gently rubbed your now bright red skin. “You look pretty with your ass all red.”

“Minho, I need you inside, right now.” You half begged half ordered. Despite his grip on your hips, you pushed your hips against him, needing to feel him.

“So impatient.” He shook his head. He took his hard, angry cock and brushed the tip against your folds – you whimpered.

“Please,” You begged, “I need you so badly.”

With one thrust, Minho buried himself deep inside you, welcoming your warmth. “Fuck, love, you feel so good.” He stilled, savoring your tightness – his cock twitched inside of you. “Since you begging me, you’re going to take everything I give you like a good girl right?”

“I will.” You promised as you gripped the sheets beneath you tightly, bracing yourself for the storm to come. You knew Minho was no longer able to control himself, to hold back, even if he tried. He was at his limits and you were more than ready for him to snap.

And he did. From the very beginning, he set a strong and fast rhythm, pounding into you mercilessly and you took it like a good girl. You accepted every thrust, his strong grip on your hips that would leave another set of bruises – and you didn’t care. With every powerful thrust, your eyes rolled back in your head.

“So fucking good.” Minho groaned and slammed his hips. “Taking me like a good little slut. I told you, this pussy was made for me.”

“Just for you.” You chocked. “I-m,I’m close.”

“But do you deserve to come?” He wondered.

Minho let go of your hips and you fell face on the bed, unable to hold on your own. It didn’t last; Minho grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you against him. You arched your back, exposing your delicate neck.

“Tell me,” He whispered to your ear, “Tell me why you deserve to come hm?”

“I-“ But your words were lost; Minho’s free hand slid to where you were connected and found your clit. He played with you, making sure you wouldn’t be able to think straight, that you wouldn’t be able to answer back.

“I guess you don’t deserve to come. Should I stop?” As if he could stop.

“No!” You screamed as he kept playing with you. You were so close you could taste your orgasm. “Please, Minho. Let me come.”

He pulled your hair a little stronger and bit on your flesh. “Then tell me.”

“I love you!” You screamed, “Please, please, please.” You were a mess. A beautiful, sticky mess. His mess.

“Then come.”

You convulsed violently around him, eyes rolling back in your head. Minho’s thrusts got sloppier as he helped you through your orgasm while seeking his own. Minho stilled and let out a loud and deep groan as he spilled into you, letting you take all of him, not wasting any single drop.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. He pulled out slowly, dragging the moment and admired as his cum slowly dripped from you. “Your pussy looks amazing.” He scooped the cum that was leaking from you and pushed it back inside you.

“Minho, too sensitive.” You whimpered, unable to take any more.

“Sorry,” He peppered your shoulder, your back with kisses. “Can’t help it.” He plopped beside you and pulled you in his arms, kissing the crown of your head.

Your body ached, every part of it but it was worth it. The bliss that followed was even more worth it. You were back to where you belonged to. His bed, his arms, his heart. You kissed his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly and tilted your head.

“I love you.” You told him again. “I loved you then and I love you even more now.”

“Now that’s the mind-blowing sex talking.”

You groaned and hit his chest. “And the moment is ruined.”

But Minho laughed heartily and pressed you tightly against him. “No, it’s not. And I love you too.”

[lila-lou]

✨ His second exception - Pt. 1/? ✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! NO Smut but BIG TRIGGER WARNING, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben - it´s STILL a fucking mess

Word Count: 5620

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 1 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Ben’s chest began to glow, the swirling energy a manifestation of the intense emotions he could barely contain. The rage, the sorrow, and the helplessness threatened to consume him. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his powers in check.

“Ben, you have to calm down”, Annie said softly, stepping closer. “You’re going to hurt yourself—and her—if you don’t”.

But Ben couldn’t hear her over the roar of his own anguish. He slammed his fist into the wall beside your bed, the impact reverberating through the room. “I failed them!”, he shouted, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t fucking protect them!”.

“You did everything you could”, Butcher said, his tone steady. “Right now, she needs you here, not losing control”.

Annie nodded in agreement, her eyes pleading. “Ben, please. For her sake, you have to stay calm”.

But Ben was too deeply lost in his emotions, his chest still glowing with a dangerous intensity. He was trembling with the effort of holding himself together, and it was clear he was on the verge of losing control.

Annie’s voice grew more urgent, her worry evident. “Butcher, get him out of here! Now!”.

Butcher tightened his grip on Ben’s shoulder, his own expression a mix of concern and determination. “Come on, mate. Let’s step outside”, he urged, trying to guide Ben towards the door.

But Ben was in his own world, unable to resist or calm down completely. His chest glowed brighter with each passing second, the raw power within him threatening to erupt. Butcher, sensing the urgency, made a split-second decision.

With a grunt of effort, Butcher sped Ben outside to the roof terrace. The night air did little to cool the fiery glow emanating from Ben’s chest. Desperation etched on his face, Butcher tried to reason with him one last time. “Ben, you’ve got to get a grip”.

But Ben’s eyes were wild, unfocused, lost in the torrent of his own emotions. Butcher clenched his jaw, knowing he had to do something drastic. With all his strength, he swung a punch, connecting squarely with Ben’s jaw. The force of the blow sent Ben staggering back.

For a moment, everything was still. Ben blinked, the shock of the hit bringing a momentary clarity. His chest still glowed, but the intensity had lessened. He looked at Butcher, confusion and pain evident in his eyes.

“Snap out of it, Soldier Boy!”, Butcher barked, his voice echoing in the night air. “She needs you to be strong, not falling apart!”.

Ben shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering haze. The punch had grounded him, bringing him back to reality.

Three single Tears rolled down Ben’s cheeks, streaking through the grime and blood. It was the first time Butcher had ever seen Ben cry. The sight was both jarring and heartbreaking. For a moment, Butcher struggled to find the right words, his own feelings of helplessness threatening to overwhelm him.

“She… I… Homelander killed my child! We lost our baby”, Ben whispered, his voice raw with anguish.

Butcher took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He placed a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I know, mate. And I know it hurts like hell”, Butcher said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “But she’s still alive. She needs you now more than ever”.

Even though Butcher and Ben didn’t get along very well, in this moment, Butcher told Ben exactly what he needed to hear. The raw honesty in Butcher’s words cut through Ben’s grief, anchoring him to the reality of the situation. Ben needed to get himself together for you, even though the pain he felt was beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

“I know it feels like you’re drowning”, Butcher continued, his voice steady. “But you’re stronger than this. She needs you to be strong, to be there for her”.

Ben nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to push down the overwhelming grief and anger. He wiped at his face, smearing the tears and blood even more. “I can’t lose her”, he whispered, his voice cracking.

“You won’t”, Butcher said firmly. “Not if you stay focused. One step at a time, Soldier Boy. You’ve faced worse and come out the other side. You can do this”.

Ben rubbed his face hard, the pressure intense enough that it would have broken bones if he had been merely human. With a deep breath, he gave Butcher a simple, determined nod before turning and heading back inside.

Inside the room, the harsh lights illuminated your pale, unconscious form. The beeping of the machines monitoring your vitals created a steady rhythm, a reminder of the fragile thread that held you to life. Ben’s heart ached at the sight, but he steeled himself. He needed to be strong for you, for both of you.

Annie looked up as Ben re-entered, her eyes filled with concern. She didn’t say anything, sensing that Ben needed a moment alone with you. She quietly stepped out, leaving the two of you together.

Ben approached your bedside, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of movement. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m here, Baby”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere”.

The room was silent except for the steady beeping of the machines and the faint hum of the hospital. Ben sat down beside you, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to center himself, drawing strength from the depth of his love for you.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression filled with determination. “We’re going to get through this”, he said softly. “I promise you. No matter what it takes, we’re going to be okay”.

The weight of his promise settled over him, but he embraced it. He would be there for you, no matter the cost. As he sat by your side, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You needed him, and he would not let you down.

Hours passed, and the night gave way to the first light of dawn. Ben remained by your side, his eyes never leaving your face. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he refused to let himself rest. He had to be there when you woke up.

Butcher and Annie checked in periodically, offering support and reassurance. But for the most part, they gave Ben the space he needed.

Ben's hand softly rested over your still swollen belly, but there was no heartbeat anymore. His jaw clenched, a wave of anguish washing over him, but he fought to keep his emotions in check. With a trembling breath, he whispered towards your belly, his voice choked with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry", he murmured. "I failed you. I failed to protect you, to keep you safe". Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he blinked them back.

"I promised to keep you both safe", he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I couldn't. I'm so sorry".

The weight of his guilt hung heavy in the air, but he couldn't bring himself to move away from you. He stayed by your side, his hand resting over your belly, a silent vow to never forget the life that had been lost.

Ben's heart shattered at the thought of the loss of his baby. The pain was unbearable, gnawing at him with relentless intensity. He couldn't even begin to imagine how you would react when you woke up and learned the devastating news. The mere thought of your grief tore at his soul, threatening to consume him with its ferocity.

As he sat by your side, his hand still resting over your belly, his heart ached with a profound sense of loss. The weight of his failure weighed heavily on him, the guilt and sorrow threatening to drown him in their depths.

48 hours passed in a haze of grief and exhaustion for Ben. He hadn’t slept, barely eaten, consumed by the weight of his sorrow and the desperate hope that you would wake up. Butcher had to practically drag him out of your room to shower and change, reminding him that you wouldn’t appreciate the smell of blood and dirt when you finally regained consciousness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ben felt a faint movement beneath his hand. His heart leaped with hope as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with anticipation. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly, a sign of life returning to your body.

For a moment, Ben couldn’t breathe, the rush of emotion overwhelming him. He leaned closer, his eyes fixed on your face as he waited with bated breath for any further sign of awakening. Time seemed to stand still as he held his breath, willing you to open your eyes and return to him.

As your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the depths of your gaze, Ben's heart swelled with relief.

"Hey, sweetheart", he whispered. "Welcome back".

Your voice, barely above a whisper, trembled as you asked him what had happened. Ben's heart clenched at the sound of your voice, filled with pain and confusion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before responding.

"Hey, it's okay", he said softly, his voice soothing. "You were… you were hurt pretty bad. But you're here now, and that's all that matters".

As you tried to sit up, pain shot through your body, causing you to wince and sink back against the pillows. Ben's heart clenched at the sight of your discomfort, and he reached out to gently support you.

"Easy, easy", he murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You've been through a lot. Just take it slow".

He adjusted the pillows behind you, trying to make you more comfortable. His hands were gentle as he hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving your face, silently urging you to take care of yourself.

Your breathing was still uneven as Ben handed you something to drink, his movements careful and attentive.

"I'll go get the doctor", he murmured, already moving to stand up, but you stopped him with a trembling question.

"What about the baby?". Your voice wavered with emotion, your memories of the harrowing encounter with Homelander flooding back.

Ben's jaw clenched, his hands starting to shake slightly as he struggled to find the words. The pain in his eyes was evident as he met your already tear-filled gaze, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

"Ben… please… don't", you choked on your own voice, the fear and anguish palpable in the air. Tears welled in your eyes, mirroring the ones that filled Ben's.

The tears in Ben's eyes spoke volumes, confirming your worst fears before he even said a word. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you realized what had happened.

"No", you whispered, the word barely audible as a wave of anguish washed over you. Everything felt numb, the pain so raw it was almost unbearable.

Ben stood there, feeling utterly helpless as he watched you break down before him. Seeing you crying like that, consumed by grief and pain, tore at his heart in a way he couldn't even put into words. He knew he had to pull himself together, be there for you in your time of need.

With deliberate slowness, he sank down beside you, his movements cautious as he pulled you into his arms. You collapsed against him, your tears soaking through his shirt as you cried like you never had before.

He held you close, his arms a shelter against the storm of emotions raging within you. His own tears mingled with yours as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you cried against his chest, your sobs echoing in the sterile hospital room, Ben felt a pain unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a raw, visceral ache that seemed to consume him from the inside out. Every tear that fell from your eyes felt like a dagger in his own heart, each sob tearing at his soul.

The sound of your crying was like a symphony of anguish, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty room. Each choked breath, each muffled sob, was a reminder of the loss you had both endured. It was a sound that Ben would never forget, etched into his memory like a scar.

But even as the pain threatened to overwhelm him, Ben held you tighter, refusing to let go. He knew that he couldn't take away your pain, couldn't undo what had been done. But he could be there for you, hold you close and offer whatever comfort he could in the face of such devastating loss.

As the doctor stepped into the room, followed closely by Butcher and Annie, they quickly assessed the situation and recognized the need for privacy. Sensing the raw emotion between you and Ben, they exchanged somber glances before silently retreating, leaving the two of you alone to grieve in peace.

The doctor's departure went unnoticed by both of you, lost in your own world of pain and sorrow.

In the stillness that followed, there were no words, no gestures—only the quiet rhythm of your breathing and the steady beat of Ben's heart against your own.

Ben gently stroked your back as you continued to sob against his chest. He tried to be strong for you, but when you saw his tears, it was a stark reminder of the depth of his pain. You knew he was hurting just as much as you were, and the thought only made your own grief feel heavier.

You clung to him desperately, seeking solace in his embrace, but the words eluded you. What could you say in the face of such profound loss? Instead, you buried your face against his chest, letting his presence anchor you in the midst of the turmoil.

An hour passed in heavy silence, the weight of grief hanging thick in the air. You and Ben remained locked in each other's embrace, still unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain. Numbness settled over you like a heavy blanket, leaving you feeling hollow and empty.

Finally, the doctor emerged into the room again, accompanied by a nurse. Their presence shattered the stillness, pulling you both back to the present moment. The doctor approached with gentle caution, his expression sympathetic as he spoke.

"I'm sorry to interrupt", he began softly, his voice carrying a note of compassion, "but I really need to check on your vitals now".

You and Ben exchanged a weary glance, both understanding the necessity of the doctor's request yet feeling reluctant to let go of each other, even for a moment. With a heavy sigh, Ben slowly released his hold on you, his touch lingering for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling away.

As the doctor began his examination, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, the only sound that seemed to cut through the fog of your grief.

Ben hovered nearby, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil. You could sense his silent support, his unwavering strength a source of solace in the midst of your pain.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finished his examination, his expression grave as he studied the results.

The doctor's voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, his words registering dimly in your mind. "Your vitals are stable", he said, his tone gentle yet serious. "But we still need to perform a scraping procedure, as the pregnancy tissue didn't fully pass".

But you were too lost in your own grief to fully comprehend his words. Your mind felt foggy, disconnected from reality as you struggled to process the magnitude of your loss.

Beside you, Ben's stomach churned with a mix of anger and frustration. He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides as he listened to the doctor's explanation. The injustice of it all weighed heavily on him, fueling the fire of his emotions.

But as he looked at you, lost in your own pain, he knew that his anger could wait. Right now, you needed him more than ever, and he would do whatever it took to support you through this ordeal.

"I'll give you both a moment to process everything", the doctor said softly, before quietly leaving the room.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again. Choking back a sob, you struggled to find your voice amidst the overwhelming flood of emotions.

"I can't do this", you whispered hoarsely, your hand trembling as it found its way to your belly, the physical reminder of the life that had been taken from you far too soon.

Ben bit back his own tears, forcing himself to stay strong for you. He knew he had to be the one you could lean on. Gently, he took your trembling hand in his, his grip firm but tender.

"Hey", he began softly, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes. "You are the strongest person I know. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I know this hurts like hell, and it feels impossible, but you can do this. You have to. And I’ll be by your side every minute, I promise".

He squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving your face. "We'll get through this together. I won't let you go through it alone".

You kept crying and sobbing, each breath a painful reminder of the immense loss you felt. Everything had happened so fast, and it still felt like you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up. The reality of the situation was almost too much to bear.

Ben held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you. He whispered soothing words, his voice a steady presence in the midst of your turmoil. "It's okay to cry", he said softly. "It's okay to feel everything you're feeling. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere".

Your sobs eventually began to quiet, the exhaustion of your grief taking its toll. You leaned into Ben, your head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The doctor and nurse waited patiently outside, giving you the time you needed.

Ben wouldn't leave your side, standing by you with unwavering support. He held your hand tightly, his grip a lifeline in the midst of the pain. As the doctor began the procedure, Ben's super hearing allowed him to hear every tiny movement, every scrape and shift inside your body. The sounds were almost too much to bear, each one feeling like a fresh wound being inflicted on his heart.

His eyes pressed shut, his jaw clenched, trying to keep his own emotions in check. He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, the sheer agony of your shared loss almost unbearable.

You felt the same anguish, tears rolling down your cheeks: The physical pain of the procedure was nothing compared to the emotional torment you were enduring. Every scrape felt like a reminder of the life you had lost, of the future that had been cruelly snatched away from you.

The procedure felt like it lasted an eternity, but eventually, the doctor finished, his movements careful and precise. He glanced up, his expression one of deep sympathy. "It's over", he said gently. "You did very well".

Ben squeezed your hand, his eyes filled with both relief and sorrow. "You did it", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's over now".

After everything was done, Ben sat on your hospital bed, holding you close. Your upper body was curled on his lap, and you kept crying, the overwhelming grief consuming you. Losing your baby was the worst thing that had ever happened to you, but knowing it was Ben’s baby made it hurt even more.

You remembered the moment you told him you were going to keep the baby. You had never seen him so happy. The light in his eyes, the pure joy on his face—it was a dream he had never dared to dream, a wish he had never thought possible.

As Ben continued to stroke your back, his gaze fixed on the emptiness before him, a heavy silence settled over the room. The weight of your shared grief hung between you.

There was nothing Ben could say that would ease your pain, nothing he could do to erase the ache in his own heart. All he could do was hold you close.

For you, the grief was overwhelming, swallowing you whole until you felt like you were drowning in a sea of tears and sorrow.

In the following 24 hours, you were monitored closely by the medical staff to ensure you were fully healed from the procedure. Throughout it all, Ben never left your side. But despite the hours spent together, the two of you didn't exchange a single word.

The silence between you felt heavy, weighted down by the weight of your shared sorrow. Every glance, every touch carried with it the weight of unspoken words, the ache of loss palpable in the air.

Butcher and Annie sat in the meeting room, discussing plans with the construction team to rebuild the lobby and repair the damage of the tower.

The meeting was tense, the air heavy with the weight of recent events. Butcher and Annie conferred with the construction team, discussing timelines, budgets, and logistics for the rebuilding efforts. It was a daunting task, but one they were determined to see through to completion.

As the meeting drew to a close, Butcher and Annie exchanged a weary glance. With a nod of agreement, they rose from the table.

Annie leaned against the wall of Butcher's office, her arms crossed tightly. She glanced at Butcher, a furrow forming between her brows. "What do you think will happen now?", she asked, her voice low with concern. "Do you think Soldier Boy will be able to handle his emotions? Will he come back to lead?".

Butcher sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Bloody hell, Annie, I don't know", he admitted gruffly. "The lad's been through a lot. Losing a kid… it's enough to drive anyone mad".

Annie nodded in agreement, her expression somber. "Yeah, I know. And as much as we may not be his biggest fans, we have to admit he's changed a bit for the better", she conceded. "And no one deserves to go through what he's going through right now".

Butcher grunted in reluctant agreement, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. "Aye, you're right", he muttered. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens. In the meantime, we've got our own mess to clean up".

Butcher rubbed his beard thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concern. "Poor lass", he mumbled, his voice low with empathy. "She's probably a wreck right now".

Annie nodded, her expression mirroring Butcher's concern. "Yeah", she agreed softly. "I can't even imagine what she's going through".

Annie furrowed her brows, a hint of worry crossing her features. "Butcher, no one can know about the pregnancy", she reminded him firmly.

Butcher rolled his eyes, a grumble escaping him as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not about to go broadcasting it to the bloody world". He paused for a moment. "Besides, I've known since the first time (Y/N) went pale in that meeting", he admitted. "Heard that little second heartbeat. Still didn't tell anyone".

Annie raised an eyebrow, surprised by Butcher's revelation. "You did?", she asked, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief in her voice.

Butcher nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Aye", he confirmed. "Couldn't bring myself to ruin their moment".

"Butcher, why didn't you say something?", Annie asked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Butcher shrugged. "Thought maybe having a kid, starting a family, would finally get Soldier Boy to step back and settle down", he explained, his voice tinged with resignation. "Thought maybe then, I could take the lead".

Annie nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "And now?", she asked softly, her gaze searching Butcher's face for answers.

"Now", Butcher replied with a sigh, "we wait and see what Soldier Boy decides to do next".

Back home, Ben walked slowly behind you, his every step mirroring your hesitation. He watched you closely, waiting for any signal of where you wanted to go or what you needed. The house felt emptier than ever, the silence almost unbearable.

You looked around a little lost, your eyes darting from room to room. The weight of recent events hung heavily in the air, making even the simplest decisions seem monumental. Eventually, you gravitated toward the kitchen.

Ben followed, his heart aching as he watched your movements. He didn't say anything, unsure of what words could possibly provide comfort. Instead, he stayed close, ready to support you in any way you needed.

Once in the kitchen, you hesitated by the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for a glass. Ben stepped forward, gently taking it from you and filling it with water. He handed it to you with a look of quiet concern.

"Take your time", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here".

Ben’s words buzzed through you, each syllable a reminder of the pain you were trying to process. You didn’t even know why, but you didn’t want to hear his voice, didn’t want to hear anything. With a heavy sigh, you set the glass of water aside and reached for one of his whiskeys from the cabinet.

Ben watched silently as you grabbed the bottle, his heart aching at the sight. He knew you were struggling, but seeing you turn to alcohol for solace made the situation feel even more desperate. You took a big sip straight from the bottle, the burn of the whiskey a stark contrast to the numbness you felt inside.

For a moment, Ben considered saying something, but he held back. He knew you needed time to process everything, to find your own way through the grief. Instead, he stepped back, giving you space while still staying close enough to support you if you needed him.

You took another sip, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your chest, momentarily dulling the ache. The silence in the kitchen was heavy, filled with unspoken words and shared sorrow. Ben leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving you, silently offering his presence as a lifeline in your sea of pain.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you took one sip after another. His heart broke with each gulp, but he remained silent, knowing that pushing you might only drive you further away.

He wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms and reassure you that you weren’t alone in this, but he didn’t know how. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat. Instead, he watched, hoping that his presence was enough for now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ben took a tentative step forward. “You don’t have to go through this alone”, he said softly. “I’m here. Always”.

You paused, the bottle halfway to your lips, and glanced at him. For a moment, you saw the depth of his pain mirrored in his eyes, and it resonated with your own. The whiskey had dulled the edge of your grief, but it couldn’t erase it.

“Ben, I…”, you started, your voice cracking.

He uncrossed his arms and took another step closer. “C’mere”, he mumbled.

You set the bottle down, your hands trembling slightly. The moment you let go of the bottle, Ben stepped closer and pulled you into a tight hug. As soon as his arms wrapped around you, the floodgates opened, and you began to cry again, the sobs wracking your body.

Ben held you tightly, his own eyes welling up as he felt your pain wash over him. He stroked your back gently, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the storm of emotions. "I'm here", he whispered, his voice thick with his own grief. "I'm right here".

You buried your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. Each tear felt like a release, but also a reminder of the immense loss you both were enduring.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours—time seemed to blur in the intensity of your sorrow. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, and your breathing evened out, though the ache in your heart remained.

Feeling weak and exhausted from all the crying, you allowed Ben to carry you upstairs. He gently set you down on the edge of the bed, your limbs feeling as heavy as your heart, and you couldn't muster the energy to move. Ben knelt down in front of you, carefully pulling off your shoes.

His touch was gentle, and despite the exhaustion, you found comfort in the small act of care. Ben's hands lingered on your feet for a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination.

"Let's get you more comfortable", he said softly, his voice soothing despite the gravity of the situation.

You nodded weakly, too drained to argue or protest. Ben stood up and helped you out of your clothes, replacing them with a soft, oversized shirt. Every movement felt like it took immense effort, and you leaned heavily on him for support.

Once you were changed, Ben guided you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that belied his usual rough exterior. He then climbed into bed beside you, pulling you close once again.

"You don't have to do anything right now", Ben whispered, his lips close to your ear. "Just rest".

You nestled closer to him, your body pressed against his as you sought the comfort only he could provide. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the familiar scent of him, all worked to slowly lull you into a state of half-awareness.

Ben's hand continued to stroke your back, his touch a constant reminder of his presence.

Eventually, you fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, your body finally succumbing to the overwhelming fatigue. Ben, however, couldn’t find the same respite. His eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Once he was certain you were deeply asleep, he carefully slipped out of the bed, doing his best not to disturb you. He changed into a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. Quietly, he made his way downstairs.

In the kitchen, he reached for the whiskey bottle you had left on the counter earlier. The amber liquid sloshed inside as he poured himself a generous amount, his hands shaking slightly. He stared at the glass for a moment, the reflections of the dim kitchen light dancing on the surface.

With a deep sigh, Ben took a long, slow sip, the burn of the alcohol offering a momentary distraction from the pain gnawing at his insides. He leaned against the counter, the glass cradled in his hands as he tried to process everything that had happened.

The silence of the house felt oppressive, amplifying the loneliness and despair that clung to him. He took another sip, the whiskey doing little to numb the ache in his heart. Memories of the past few days flashed through his mind: the joy of expecting his child, the devastation of the loss, and the unbearable sight of you in such deep sorrow.

Ben set the glass down, his grip tightening around it as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was supposed to be the strong one, the protector, yet here he was, feeling completely helpless. The weight of his own grief, coupled with the need to be there for you, threatened to crush him.

He finished the whiskey in a few more gulps, the warmth spreading through his chest, though it did little to ease the cold emptiness inside. Ben poured himself another glass, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to move forward. How could you both heal from such a loss? How could he be the support you needed when he felt so broken himself?

Taking one last sip, Ben set the glass aside and took a deep breath. He turned off the kitchen light and made his way back upstairs, the promise he had made to himself echoing in his mind. He slipped back into bed beside you, his arm wrapping around you protectively as he closed his eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace in the quiet of the night.

———————————

A/N: There it fucking is ._. Heartbreak included. I´m sooo sorry...but, please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 2

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