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jihyoruri · 3 days

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢BUBBLE GUM kang haerin x reader

↳ warnings yn is a member of new jeans, fluff, haerin being confused with her emotions, soon to be girlfriends, black cat and golden retriever

with all the windows open in the house letting the natural light shine, the air hung heavy with humidity, wrapping around every surface like a blanket, yn reclined upside down on the worn out couch, her body glistening with sweat, the sticky warmth clinging to her skin like a second layer.

she wore a delicate tank top adorned with whimsical flowers and trimmed with intricate lace, it was paired with loose cloth shorts draped comfortably over her legs, offering minimal spare from the relentless heat.

with each exhale, she blew a bubble of pink bubblegum, you’d think she’d grow tired of blowing bubble gum since the group has got here to film the music video but boredom got to her this was the only thing she could think of doing as a distraction from the fact that they had no service.

she gazed upwards, she basked in the gentle caress of the fan's oscillating breeze, making eye contact with the cat like girl who sat across from her with a fan in her hand.

haerin immediately broke eye contact and shifted uncomfortably fanning herself faster,she reluctantly acknowledged to herself that she had been fixating on yn for longer than she cared to admit. despite her best efforts to ignore it, she couldn't deny yn’s undeniable beauty,even when they’re tired from filming over these past couple of days in an unexpected heat wave.

it wasn’t that she hated yn, she just wasn’t a big fan of the girl like everyone else is, yn was a late addition, she was added to lineup for the group only a month before they had to start recording and filming, so haerin never got the chance to get close to the girl.

well, she just didn’t allow herself, all the other girls immediately made it their job to get to know yn, so they can all feel like a family, there was something about yn that always threw her off, she could never pin point what emotion she was feeling so she just declared it being dislike for the annoyingly pretty girl.

and unfortunately to haerin’s luck, the rest of the girls went to go see the water and left the two alone for the day and to be honest it was pretty awkward, yn and haerin are barely left alone and when they are most of the time both girls just stay in their rooms, so this was new.

“it’s so hot.” yn whined as she fixed her self from her upside down position and got up from couch making her way to kitchen, the same kitchen that they filmed in yesterday, she grabbed two bottles of juice and made her way back to where her and haerin were lofting.

“here” she said softly passing the cold drink to haerin who looked up at her from her seat and gently took the bottle from her hand their hands touching for a split second, “thank you.”

“no problem.” they sat in silence they drank their drinks, desperately trying to cool down, haerin was waiting for yn to say something since the girl was always to talkative

“I’m bored.” yn said out loud, haerin only gave the talkative girl a nod in agreement, taking another sip from her drink.

haerin flinches when she hears a loud gasp from yn who darted over to the nearby table, her movements quick and purposeful as she retrieved a box and settled herself on the floor. a sense of confusion filled haerin as she observed yn patting the empty space in front of her, a silent invitation that hung heavy in the air.

reluctantly, haerin rose from her seat, her footsteps hesitant as she approached yn. sitting opposite of yn on the floor, she regarded the box with curiosity, unsure of what to expect. yn’s infectious enthusiasm filled the rooms, her eyes sparkling with childlike excitement as she eagerly explained her idea.

“let’s make bracelets!” yn exclaims flashing a cute smile to haerin who gives the girl a puzzled look, her smile was radiant, a stark contrast to haerin’s lingering skepticism. "I forgot Hyein packed this," she continued, gesturing towards the box with a flick of her wrist. "since there's nothing to do, let's make some."

haerin’s initial puzzlement melted away, replaced by a flicker of reluctant amusement as she observed yn’s unwavering enthusiasm. with a sigh, she opened the box, her fingers sifting through the assortment of strings, beads and cute charms yn’s grin widened at haerin’s reluctant participation, a silent victory in her quest to break through the barriers of their strained acquaintance.

“so, filming has been fun right?” yn says as they make their bracelets, if there was one thing about the girl it’s the she could never not not start a conversation, she loved to talk, she loved to break shells of other people and ever since she met kang haerin that has been her ultimate mission to win the girls heart over.

haerin nodded as she focused on the bracelet, “yeah.” she says quietly, as time went on she listens to yn’s rambles about the filming for the music video over the past couple of days, transition to the girl raving about her favourite character in a new show that she started watching and the girl can’t help but feel at ease at yn’s presence and talkative ways.

it was sweet.

haerin laughed quietly at yn who started a rant about the character that was mean to her favourite character, “I don’t mean to be mean, but I wouldn’t be sad if they kill him off.” yn says guilty causing haerin to shake her head in amusement as she adds the finishing clip to her bracelet.

“oh my gosh.” yn gasps looking at the bracelet, “that’s so pretty.” she says reaching over to admire the bracelet that had a flower charm hanging from it.

“I like yours as well.” haerin responds her cheeks heating up slightly as she admires the bracelet yn made with a star charm hanging from it.

a sense of confidence powers over her and she grabs yn’s wrist and clips the bracelet she made on the girls wrist resulting in yn gasping and giving haerin the biggest smile known to man.

yn then grabbed haerin’s wrist and does the same clipping on the bracelet she made to the girls wrist, “now we’re matching.” she says happily.

as haerin’s hesitant fingers grazed over the vibrant array of strings and beads, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, mirroring the infectious enthusiasm radiating from yn. caught off guard by the unexpected warmth of the moment, she couldn't suppress the soft giggle that bubbled up from within her, caused yn to giggle as well.

their gazes lingered, curiosity and vulnerability meeting in a silent exchange of understanding. for a moment, the walls that had stood between them crumbled, replaced by an unspoken connection of their shared laughter.

the sound of the door opening cuts off their soft moment the sounds of the other girl’s voices filling the house.

“we’re back!”

yn gets up from the floor and stretches her hand out to haerin who looks at it before softly placing her hand in yn’s, they smile at each other when yn pulls her up but watch shocks her is that yn doesn’t let go of her hand.

instead the girl interlocks their fingers and drags the girl along with her towards the door way.

“did you guys bring food?!”

“yn we’re in the middle nowhere, what food are we going to bring?”

#new jeans #kang haerin #kang haerin x reader #haerin #haerin x reader #new jeans x reader #new jeans fluff #girl group fluff #girl group imagines #new jeans imagines

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celtic-crossbow · 3 days

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Blood Ties Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided.

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point.

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy.

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings.

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since.

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months.

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped.

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling.

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely.

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent.

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh.

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little.

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach.

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there.

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion.

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress.

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was.

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking.

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched.

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder.

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch.

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one.

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you.

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.”

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.”

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction.

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly.

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog.

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?”

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand.

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered.

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress.

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright.

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl.

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around.

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders.

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back.

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle.

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips.

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave.

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance.

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration.

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you.

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl.

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true.

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly.

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime.

“Herd?” You whispered.

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed.

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol.

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer.

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair.

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand.

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed.

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do.

You were so close to being a mother.

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards.

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath.

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees.

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present.

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure.

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort?

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress.

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers.

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating.

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!”

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N.

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly.

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world.

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it.

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front.

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own.

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too.

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there.

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!”

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.”

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior.

“The head is out!”

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled.

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner.

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head.

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening.

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving.

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head.

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.”

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle.

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one.

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces.

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved.

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting.

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant!reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd

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kkuzushi · 2 days

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“ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 ”

✦ 𝗰haracters: sub!albedo x dom!reader

✦ 𝗰w: handjob, sensory deprivation; blindfolding & bondage, sensitive birthmark, fingering (giving), overstimulation, (sort of) public ‘sex’, no pronouns for reader

✦ 𝘄ord count: 1.10k

✦ 𝗻otes: I’ve been missing this pretty boy so much, I just wanna turn him into a moaning mess. TT

Snowflakes fall gently to the ground, slowly covering the mountain with soft snow. The chilly atmosphere was more bearable now, mixed with the crackling sound of the bonfire behind you. The warmth of the fire relaxed your being, exhaustion wearing off from your body.

The stillness of the moment is accompanied with the heavy breathing of a blonde alchemist. The elegant heaving sparked your thoughts, how could someone be so beautiful just by the way their body shudders with every stroke of your hand?

“a-ah..! not so fastm-ngH! ♡” Albedo whimpered, voice cracking slightly as the speed of your hand on his cock surprised him. Despite his pleas of slowing down, his hips bucks onto your palm, wanting to receive more contact.

His head tilts back, if it wasn’t for the blindfold, you’d see the expression he has right now. The delicate appearance of his face mixed with his eyes rolling, oh it was arousing just to think about.

Alas, you have to control the temptation—depriving Albedo of sight to surprise him with every touch you give him. To add to his platter, his wrists are tied behind his back with red ropes, restricting him from breaking free of your grasp.

With his head tilted back, his pale neck was exposed, showing the four pointed star birthmark embedded to his skin. It was a wonderful sight; an eye-catching one at that.

Your head leaned down, lips making contact with his neck, directly on his birthmark. "guhAh~?!" a surprised moan left the chemist’s mouth, losing his sense of sight really leveled up the thrill of your actions.

His neck was showered with kisses, some bites here and there to mark his skin—all of it made Albedo squirm and whimper, his fingers curling inwards till his knuckles turned white.

"If you c-continue.. I'll– mmHNGH! ♡ ♡" His words were cut off as soon as he came on his work desk, making a mess on your palm. Albedo's body trembled with every cum that spilled out of him, whimpering as he tried to suppress his noises.

As he takes his time to calm down, you wipe your hand with a nearby towel before continuing with what you had in mind.

"Let's move on to phase two, shall we?" You asked rhetorically, pushing him down to the table gently, his back arching as if on command. Your hands reached down, caressing the supple skin of his ass.

Albedo laid half his body on the work desk, still breathing quite heavily after his release. The caresses on his rear was comforting to say the least, despite the fact that he can't really know your intentions for the next phase of the experiment.

"‘bedo," you cooed his name, "how many fingers am I holding?" a smile on your lips, it was unseeable but he could hear it directly from your tone.

The question confused him though, he was wearing a blindfold, how would he know?

"What exactly do you mean? I can't se– nghAH–!"

"How many fingers?"

"T-two.."

Two fingers were inserted in his puffy hole, it was tight and wet. You took your time playing around him, eliciting gasps out of his pretty mouth. His ass stays up in the air, slowly going back and forth into your fingers, squelching sounds coming out of it.

Your fingers reach deeper within his walls, causing a breathy whine out of him. A sudden thrust, hitting his prostate, the whine turns to a louder moan. His back arching as your finger curls inwards, his mouth hangs open as you continue ramming the squishy spot.

The alchemist's head throws back as he starts salivating on his desk, legs trembling as he tries to stay sane from the amount of sheer pleasure he's getting from your fingers alone.

Another finger was added, abusing his wet hole before he let out a soft cry, "I'm.. mngh–! gonna cum..! ♡" Cock twitching while ropes of cum shoots out, back arching sharply with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His entire body flinched as his orgasm lasted for a minute or two, finding the trouble of calming down.

A mere touch on his body causes him to flinch, he’s so sensitive that a slight brush of your fingertips could make him whimper. You grab his left thigh, lifting it up and placing it on the desk, “We’re getting to the end of this experiment,” you hummed.

The anticipation makes him weak, with one leg lifted up, you can see his cock. He was still hard, despite cumming twice already. He feels your hand once more, stroking his tip, emitting a surprised “gAH–!” out of him. As if that wasn’t enough, your fingers entered his hole again.

“W-Wait..! mmNgh hA-Ahh..! Too shenshitiveee!! ♡ ♡” Albedo bites his lower lip, trying to bottle up his moans yet it was futile. Everything felt too good, the stroking on his tip mixed with his hole getting fingered? It was all too much. The alchemist could barely contain himself, his mind was through overdrive with the pleasure you’re giving him.

He was no longer being quiet, his body was almost thrashing as he couldn’t restrain himself. If he wasn’t tied up right now, he’d be clawing the table. hard.

“a-ah! ah! t-too muchhhffghh–it’s too muchggAhH! ♡” The alchemist continued to babble until it turned into incoherent noises along with moans he can’t suppress any longer. His thoughts were fogged up, only thinking about how you’re stroking him with greater pace, three fingers hitting his prostate. He was being overstimulated to his core.

There was no surprise if his voice turned hoarse the next morning, all that matters is he’s enjoying his time, not that he could think of anything else anyway. “ohmmm– can’t anymorhgg..! chuminggghh–!! ♡ ♡ ♡”

The sluttiest moan came out of Albedo, his cock releasing again on your palm, slowly dripping down the floor. You took your fingers out of his hole to hold his waist, supporting his trembling body from falling down the desk. His back stayed arched, mouth hanging open as he continued to voice out his release. Loud pants came out of the alchemist, feeling the exhaustion hitting his body after three orgasms.

Once his noise dies down, you slowly remove the blindfold on his eyes, revealing the stream of tears now spilling to his cheeks. His eyes were glossy, daze and exhaustion mixed in his expression. “Did you enjoy that experiment?” you murmured yet he gave no reply.

His breath hitched as he gave a slight nod, unable to move too much. The way Albedo acts during his afterglow was amusing, you giggled and kissed his cheek, “Then we can conclude this experiment a success.”

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skteezcursed · 2 days

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❝0025❞ — j.wy.

PAIRING. jung wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. friends to lovers. kinda idiots in love. switch woo. switch reader. teasing. strip poker. mentions of alcohol. pet names (pretty boy, bunny, love, good girl, etc). praising. p in v. unprotected sex (please, do NOT!). oral (mostly fem receiving). creampie. kinda breast play. mostly filth, i'm sorry. lmk if i forgot anything!.

SYNOPSIS. you and wooyoung have always had a thing for each other, but never acted on it, until one day he gets tired of waiting once he notices you want him just as bad as he wants you.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 3,3k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

The idea that something could be so infuriating and exhilarating at the same time was confusing to say the least, but that was how you felt whenever Jung Wooyoung would look at you, the eyes that held a teasing and menacing gaze at the same time they burned to your skin as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. In all truth, you were, and he was expecting to make that known to you that night as he had managed to convince you to play a game of strip poker, the drinks you had earlier not helping one bit at keeping your judgment clear.

It’s not that you were bad at card games, no, you were amazing at them, except when you had something – or several – to drink, which was now the case. Although Wooyoung wasn’t too far behind you in being intoxicated by the alcohol, he seemed to have kept his cool, almost sober as the cards were dropped and clothes started to fill in the floor you two were in, thanking heavens that you were alone with him at the comfort of your house, at the same time trying to ignore how the pool that was forming in between your legs kept getting more annoying as the time passed and your clothes were on the floor while he still had his pants and one sock on.

“Oh, look at that…,” the grin that took over his lips made you want nothing more than to rip it out as you groaned loudly looking at the cards he was showing, winning again. “C’mon pretty, take some piece off.”

“I fucking hate you,” his laugh reverberated through the room as he watched you take one of your socks, trying your best to push away the cold that involved you as you were only in your lingerie. Sensing the disappointing look Wooyoung sent your way, you hid your smile trying to calm your heart. “Be ready to take off some pieces next time, you are gonna lose!”

The smirk was quickly back into his lips as he picked the cards shuffling them around his hands, as you forced your eyes to not stare at them, not to imagine how good they always looked on your thigh or how flustered you always were whenever Wooyoung was bold enough to touch you a bit longer and in a daring way. The truth was, you’ve always had a thing for Wooyoung, if you were honest, how could you not? He was the perfect mix of a gentleman and a menace, but never going as far as making you uncomfortable, whenever a slight hint that you were annoyed by his antics, he would stop and apologize to you. The fact he was a touchy person didn’t help keep your feelings at bay as you grew closer.

As the cards were thrown, you tried your best to keep your poker face and legs crossed – the latter so he wouldn’t be able to see the wet patch on your underwear. Wooyoung was already cocky enough about all the attention he got, although he got shy, you knew he enjoyed teasing the living shit out of you whenever someone would compliment him or indicate they wanted him, but curiously enough, he never gave them another second of his attention, just politely declined and kept on with whatever it was that your group was doing, also leaning closer to you, even if it was to tease how many gorgeous women and men wanted him.

Although you wanted to deny, you loved how he would decline all the offers that came his way. You weren’t much of a jealous type, but you were definitely a possessive one, as much as you wanted to tell your brain you shouldn’t be like that towards Wooyoung. Whenever he would tease about that, you’d play it out by saying that’s how you were with all your friends, receiving a laugh from Wooyoung as you felt his hands linger on your body, sometimes he would talk back against your ear, others he would pull you closer with some excuse, and on rare occasions he would just stay like that, fingers burning on your skin as the tip of his fingers would lightly caress your exposed skin.

“YES! Told you I’d win!” You cheer with excitement as you draw your cards laughing loudly at his pout as his eyes bore into your figure and you notice a small smirk appear on his lips before he gets up, eyeing you with that menacing glare. “No, I don’t care what you say, I’ll win the next ones too and -”

As his fingers went to the buttons of his pants, your voice stopped at once, eyes ignoring the apparent tent that was there. Once his fingers found the zipper, your eyes averted to the ground, specifically to his feet that still had one sock, which brought an inquisitive look to your face, turning into shock as his pants fell at his feet before he took them out completely kicking them somewhere along with his shirt, the sock joining it not long after, bringing your eyes to finally look up, straight into his face, as the tongue was in between his lips along with the growing grin that made you clench your thighs together.

The movement did not go unnoticed as you saw Wooyoung’s eyebrows rise and fall before he took a few steps closer to you, noticing finally how you had your legs up to your chest cursing at yourself as you realized he probably saw the wet patch in your underwear. As he lowered himself in front of you, the maximum you would allow your eyes to wander off was up to his chest, the tattoo on his ribs finally visible for you to see, for you to touch, to –

“My eyes are up here bunny,” luckily, you only clenched your own cunt and not your legs as the pet name reached your ears, as your eyes found his predatory ones, the smirk with a slight gap between his lips, allowing you to see his tongue moving inside his mouth… God, you needed it in – “still need to go a bit further up,” his finger found your chin bringing your eyes to finally meet his and stay there. “That’s it, I like when you look at me, especially when it’s like that.”

“Fuck off,” you push his hand away and turn your legs around in front of you, still covering the growing wetness between your legs, making Wooyoung chuckle before he returns to his position, “why didn’t you take your socks off, you are supposed to only take one piece of clothing.”

“Are you complaining, love?”

You rolled your eyes as you pointed to the cards in between you two, ignoring his grin as his fingers nimbly organized the cards, ignoring how his eyes were fixed on you.

“You're scared you will lose?”

The scoff that came from Wooyoung made you finally eye him as he finished organizing the cards. “I was planning on suggesting something for the grand finale.”

“You definitely scared to lose though, you were the idiot who took two pieces of clothing, while -”

“You would do the same if you had noticed how hard my cock is as it only got harder as I saw how wet your cunt is,” that shut you up at the same instant, the deck of cards being left on the coffee table as his eyes never left you, the smirk growing as his tongue wet his lips, sitting cross legged in front of you as his hands found his thigh, chuckling as he noticed you finally noticing his hard cock against his underwear. “Are you still gonna pretend you don’t find me attractive and that you don’t want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?”

“Wooyoung, look -”

“What do I have to do for you to understand I don’t see you as a friend and that I want you to be mine?” As your eyes averted from his, you could hear the movement and see it from the peripheral view, only to get his hands on your chin, making you eye him as he towered above you, trying to ignore how his hard clothed cock was inches away from you. “I never wanted to be just your friend and I sure as fuck ain’t blind not to notice how you react to me, so are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless before becoming officially mine, or you still gonna be fucking brat?”

Instead of responding you palmed his clothed cock watching as his mouth opened with a gasp as you squeezed gently the length, his hands moving from your chin to caress your cheek as you smirked at each other.

“Tell me again how badly you want me, Wooyoungie.”

As you said that, both your hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, pulling slowly as you sustained eye contact with him, until you noticed that the tip of his red angry leaking cock was finally seen. Making you eye him before moving your face closer to his hip bone, leaving a tender kiss there as you slowly moved towards his cockhead, watching as it twitched slightly, his chest going up and down rapidly, making you giggle before your lips touched the tip making him groan loudly.

“Fuck you are gonna torture me?”

“I told you what I want, if you give it me, I’ll give it to you,” another kiss on his cockhead makes him throw his head back groaning before his hand go to the back of your head, your hair getting tangled within his fingers, “it’s a fair trade don’t you think, pretty boy?”

“Fuck I knew you were gonna be my end the day I laid eyes on you, bunny,” at that, you finally took the rest of his underwear, making his cock slap you in the face, making you giggle before holding it with one of your hands, putting just the tip inside, feeling his precum on your tongue before squeezing lightly the base of his cock. “Fuck, you are such a fucking tease, the way you’d sway your hips, how you always wear something that shows skin just to have my hands on you trying to take those fuckers who just want to fuck you away -”

“But you are one of the fuckers who want to fuck me, aren’t you Wooyoungie?”

“The difference between me and them my dear bunny, is that I can fuck you senseless and you’d still come begging for more, because you are just as desperate for my cock as I am for your cunt.”

At that he forced your head down his cock making you gag as you took him all in, tapping his thigh after a while, feeling him pull your head back and up, as his lips finally met yours. It was sloppy, desperate, lustful, it was all you both wanted and more and you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand found your waist going up your back to unclasp your bra, but never leaving your lips, not even when he felt your hardened nipples against his chest, pulling you closer to his, letting his cock press against your stomach.

You tried to put your hand in between you two, but he wouldn’t let you, keeping you firm against him as his tongue explored your mouth, God the amount of time you imagine those lips against yours, leaving wet traces until it finally found itself between your legs with your hands on his hair as he ate you out.

“Be a good girl and sit on the couch, legs spread open,” he was as out of breath as you were, yet you complied taking off your bra first, but he stopped you as your hands went to your panties to pull them off. “Did I say something about taking these off?”

“Then how are you gonna eat me out properly?”

“Oh, my sweet bunny,” he hovered over you on the couch, the smirk forever present as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, “I’m gonna make you scream my name in no time once I get a taste of you, and then I’ll fuck into oblivion until you beg me to stop.”

“Is that a promise?”

The doe eyes you sent him not matching the secret wish that question held, making his smirk grow as he pulled you in for another kiss, one of his hands going all the way from your waits to your knee as his other, found your breasts, pinching the hardened nipple making you moan against the kiss before he slapped it before massaging it all over again, making you whimper against his lips.

“It’s a promise since the moment I first saw you,” his lips lingering closely to your own as you felt his hand squeeze your thigh as his other moved up to your neck cupping your face pulling you in for another tender and innocent kiss before he started moving downwards, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses on your jaw and neck before reaching the valley of your breasts. “It’s a promise from the moment I saw your tits almost slipping out of one of those dresses you wore for the first night out we had as a group, where I almost had to fight a few guys who wanted what was mine.”

“I thought I wasn’t yours yet.”

“You were always mine, you just didn’t want to accept it,” his mouth fully involved your breast as his hand massaged the other, feeling the little random bites that would sure make their appearance in the morning, but you couldn’t care less as your fingers found his hair moaning every time he sucked and bit your breast, “so pretty like that and I barely touched you, I wonder how pretty you look all fucked out.”

“Why don’t you start by putting your mouth to use somewhere else?”

“Your wish is my comment, love,” he kisses you one last time before the wet trail of kisses happens all over again, slowly but surely accompanied by small bites here and there as Wooyoung makes sure to hold you down and spread your legs open as he gets closer to your clothed core. “Fuck, you are so wet, I wonder how much you can last.”

Combination of his words, eye contact, fingers gently taking the edges of your panties and the small kiss he leaves on top of your clothed aching clit, makes your hips jolt up, bringing a chuckle to Wooyoung’s mouth as he finally takes your panties of, a this line connecting your panties to your soaking core makes him curse before completely throwing your panties somewhere along with the other clothes. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you and make you cum on my mouth.”

Before you could say anything, his hot breath collided with your sensitive clit, a tender and contained kiss being left there as you could sense the chuckle Wooyoung left at your whimpers, reverberated through your body before your fingers found his head pulling him into your soaked cunt. His hands firmly on the back of your thigh spreading them open, your knees up to your chest as his mouth fully involved your clit, the kitty licks making you moan loudly and arch your back, feeling the small laugh he let out reverberate through your body once more.

“Woo, fuck-,” you cried as he lowered his head, his tongue at your entrance as his nose would meet your clit sending shocks of electricity and warmth through your body, “fuck, just like that Woo, fu-fuck, your ton-tongue, I can’t I-”

“Don’t you dare hold back, I wanna hear you, bunny.”

As two fingers entered you and his mouth closed on your clit sucking it, a scream left you. His fingers were quick, curling from time to time inside you making you squirm under him, as his arm could barely hold you still, but he honestly didn’t care, the sight of you shaking under him, your taste on his mouth, the feeling of your cunt clenching his fingers was sending him into overdrive and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

The first wave hit you like a truck, the guttural sound that left your mouth followed by a scream as your fingers pulled Wooyoung’s hair was enough for him to finally let go of your wet folds. Once you felt his face away from you, your eyes met with his face glistening with your juice as he pushed his two fingers into his mouth, ravishing on your taste before pulling you in for another kiss. Your hands quickly ran down his chest to find his hard cock, before he stopped you.

“But Woo-”

“We’ll have plenty of that, unfortunately, if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m afraid I’ll combust,” as you pulled him in for another kiss, your heels found his ass and thigh, pulling him into you, your hand finding his hard leaking cock and putting it at your entrance, making him whine against your lips as you squeezed him with your hand as to pull him closer to where both of you needed. “Fuck, I’m gonna break you, bunny.”

“You can break me as many times as you want if you are willing to put me back together.”

“God you are so perfect,” as his lips found yours with a tender and borderline innocent kiss, his cock pushed through your gummy walls making you gasp and moan against his lips before he hid his face on the crook of your neck, biting the base as he slowly entered your tight hole. “Tell me when I can move.”

A small shake of your head was all he needed before he started progressively thrust into you, his hips finding yours at a rapid pace as both your moans and grunts filled the house along with the sounds of your bodies. Wooyoung was a bit over average size, but he was girthy, so you were still getting used to his size as he fucked you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix every so often.

His hands pulled your legs towards your chest making him hit a whole new spot inside you, making you scream at the feeling before his thumb start rubbing circles on your clit, your legs already shaking, mouth open, uncontrollable moans leaving both of you as his thrusts became sloppier, his kisses were messy and you clenched so much around him that ripped profanity after profanity from his lips.

“Woo, I’m coming, fuck, please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, it feels so good!”

“Cum with me, love, cum all over my cock,” as if magic, his words hitting your core sending you to combust under him, shaking and screaming as you felt your orgasm reach you, feeling his warm seeds inside you as his thrusts faltered before coming to a stop. Your legs were numb, but your arms quickly wrapped around him, your nails scratching his scalp softly as his body weight held you against the couch. “You are just as perfect as I imagined you to be.”

Your giggle came with the small kisses and love bites he left on your neck before pulling out of you and placing some distance between you two as he watched his seeds leak from your fluttering hole, a smirk on his lips before his lips met with your clit making you cry a moan.

“Wooyoung, please…!”

“Sorry love,” his face was quick to go up to yours, a kiss on your lips as you both smiled at the current situation. “So, can I ask you to be officially mine, now?”

“I was yours from the moment we met, Wooyoungie.”

“That’s my good little bunny.”

general masterlist here ♡

network: @cultofdionysusnet ♡ @atzhouse ♡

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

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lcvclywon · 2 days

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in sickness and in health

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synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday.

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems.

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early?

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference.

“What are you doing here.”

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe.

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across.

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare.

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.”

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset.

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN”

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings.

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week.

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.”

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands.

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!”

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you.

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth.

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

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mediumgayitalian · 1 day

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———

She brushes another kiss to his hidden face and settles against the car door, holding him. She thinks for a moment and decides on something old, a tune she heard on the radio once upon a time and never heard again; she’s warped it, now, no doubt about it, humming it from memory so long it’s changed to whatever she has made it. But Will recognises it from years of lullabies, picking up on the swooping baritones and mumbling the words into her shoulder.

“You know, that Han Solo shrine up in your room makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it.”

The melody dies in his throat.

“Mama.”

“I’m just saying.” She bites back a smirk, swatting away his smacking hands. “There was a point in time I thought it was admiration, you know, but you have a lot of posters of that open vest —”

“Mama!”

She acquiesces, this time, never having seen his poor face so scarlet, trying and failing to keep her laughter to herself. The tear tracks have long since dried and his breathing is steady, now, gangly limbs tucked into her ribs and hanging off the bend of her thigh. Flopped all over her like he used to to when he was young and she was still touring, when the world was too loud and too bright and too mean and she hid him from the sun. Her hands in his hair are to touch instead of soothe.

“Who’s the boy?”

“No.”

“C’mon, babydoll.” She pokes at his ribs, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes to hide his smile. “Tell me.”

“It’s nobody, Ma, gods.”

“Yeah, right. Not like you were comparing having a crush to killing someone in cold blood twenty minutes ago. Clearly it’s somebody.”

He, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.

Unfortunately, he forgets that he gets his stubborn from her.

“Hm. Can’t be anyone I haven’t heard of in a few weeks, or else it wouldn’t be bothering you. What names have you mentioned?”

He looks at her in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Absolutely, she would. Her smile widens.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it ain’t Chiron, ‘cause then I’d have questions —”

“Oh my gods! Stop!”

“— an’ I doubt it’s that security fellow, with the eyes, although if it is no judgement —”

“I’m throwing myself out of this car! Right now! I’m gonna lay on the road ‘til someone hits me!”

“— Lord, you don’t mention many names. You’re a recluse, baby. You gotta make more than two friends.”

She stills. Will, perhaps guessing where she is going, makes a noise of deep, personal agony.

“Oh my stars, is it Cecil?”

“Ew, Ma!”

He strains against her hold but she tightens, hooking her elbow around his shoulders and flexing her other hand, pretending to examine her nails.

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, he is a very handsome young man. And he has a good heart, too, despite the — how to put it — distaste for the law —”

“I just threw up in my mouth! Right now! Stop it!”

“I should probably stop letting him stay in your room when he stays over, huh, that one’s on me —”

He wrenches himself away from her, finally, clambering over the seats and gagging like the mere idea makes him nauseous.

“Ew! Ew! I do not have a thing for Cecil, oh my gods, I might as well marry my cousin! Augh! I’m gonna throw up for real! Why would you even say that, oh my —”

“Alright, alright!” she laughs, kicking his rapidly repeating shoulder. “Holy Jesus, you are dramatic. I should call up camp and tell him you’re out here retchin’ at the mere thought.”

“Good,” Will says darkly, voice muffled from how deeply his head is buried in his hands, “make sure to also tell him he is a weasel.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am going to deface his vintage Hot Wheels collection.”

“Y’all have a strange friendship.”

“He’s not my friend, I am stuck with him via circumstance and because he refuses to leave me alone.”

She holds up her hands in surrender, refraining from pointing out the friendship bracelet he is currently wearing with a CM on it and that has not left his wrist in four years.

“Alright, alright. Not Cecil.”

He scoffs in agreement, ignoring her rolled eyes.

She wracks her brain for other boys he’s brought up in their phone calls, aside from people in passing. Mostly he mentions patients, really, answering her endless inquiries — it will never stop astounding her that he baby can practically sew heads back on bodies; she tells people he’s in med school and preens at their wide, impressed eyes — but there are other people he mentions, in between that and the pranks he’s frequently pulling with his friends.

“There was that boy you were so excited to keep around. Nick?”

“His name is Nico,” he corrects, and then immediately goes scarlet. “I — I mean, I have a friend, named Nico, not that —”

Her grin gets sharp as nails.

“He is — unwell! He’s travelled a lot, he needs monitoring so I am — monitoring him, you know, out of concern for his safety —”

“Nico and Wi-ill, sitting in a tree —”

“Oh my gods are you five —”

“You are steaming! I can actually feel the heat pouring off of you right now! You love him, you want to kiss him, you —”

“I am never telling you anything again in my entire life!” he hollers. “Never! Next time I think I should tell you something I’m just gonna — swallow glass!”

She snickers. “Drama queen.”

He sticks out his tongue as she situates herself back in her own seat, turning the keys in the engine. His puts his dirty converse on the dash despite her grouching, reaching over to fight her for control of the radio, flapping his hand excitedly when she lets him win and something bright and overdone starts playing. His bandage stays where it is, tied loosely around his wrist.

“I’m glad you told me, you know.”

He smiles, small and genuine, leaning into the palm she cups around his cheek. The dimple in the centre of his right cheek is back, the scrunch of his freckled nose. She presses a lingering kiss smack dab in the centre of his forehead and he leans into it, trusting.

“I know.”

#okay THATS it #do i like this as much as the first part? no it’s less impactful. but it is fun so idc #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #naomi solace #will solace & naomi solace #solangelo #fluff #my writing #fic #longpost

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sarawritestories · 16 hours

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 13

Cassian X Archeron Sister

Summary: Cassian won't leave Y/N alone in hopes she will at least talk to him, giving her the best gifts money could buy. Perhaps material things are not the way to earn her forgiveness...

Content Warnings: Low self worth

A/N: We're kicking off the 1000 Follower Celebration with a bang!! WOO HOO. I once again can't Thank you enough for your love and support!

Also, we are getting so close to a portion of the story that I have been plotting since day one and I'm so excited. Though I highly doubt you all will be when we get there.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Also thanks @prythianpages for giving me a new banner to use 😍😍

1000 Follower Celebration Masterlist

Unwavering Presence Masterlist

Chapter 12

I awoke to knocking on my door fully aware of who was on the other side. Not moving I tucked the blanket closer to my chin, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping he would leave. When I didn’t answer, the doorknob began to jostle, “Princess, can we talk please?” Cassian’s voice carried through the wood. “I want to make this right.” He continued to knock on the door.

I closed my eyes and sent my emotions down my tattoo; my direct link to Rhys. Hoping he and Feyre were on their way back from the Summer Court.

Cassian’s knocking finally ceased, and I could breathe easier. Inhale…Exhale…

Angel Rhys’ voice rang out in my head, What’s wrong?

Tears prickled my eyes as Cassian’s cold stare from the night before came to the forefront of my mind, “You can barely take care of yourself.” His words rang in my ears.

Can you or Az get me? I sniffled.

Why? Did something happen to Cassian? Are you in Danger? Rhys’ voice sounded panicked.

Take a look I brought the memories from the night before for him to see.

Me or Az? Was all he asked; his voice was a lethal calm.

Az, Please.

He is on his way, Angel. I want you to know no one thinks you’re helpless. We love you.

I cracked a smile. Thanks Rhys.”

Rhys left my mind, and I closed my eyes and let sleep consumed me once more.

The sound of shouting jolted me awake. It took me a moment to distinguish the yelling. It was Azriel’s voice that carried throughout the cabin. He. Was. Angry. I slid out of bed, grabbed my robe and opened my door just enough to peek through.

“You’re not taking her!” Cassian snarled his siphons blaring. His face held a mixture of emotions I didn’t care to decipher.

Azriel’s siphons flared in response. “She asked for me. This is Rhys direct order. I’m taking her home.” Cassian swung at the Shadow Singer only for Azriel’s shadows to flair out and push him to a chair.

I stepped out of the room as shadows pinned Cassian to the chair. “Azriel.”

Both males looked over at me Cassian had a pained look on his face and opened his mouth to speak. Az’s shadows wrapped over his mouth as Azriel glared at him. “You don’t get to speak.” Cassian lunged at Azriel, and I jumped back gasping. Cassian slammed back in the trail trying to fight Azriel’s shadows and I moved closer to the Spy Master. His hand slipped through mine and Cassian glared as his hazel eyes, cold and unyielding as he watched our hands intertwine.

Always hoping someone will save you. Cassian’s words swirled in my head and when our gazes meet, I can tell that he knows what words are filtering through my head, as his gaze shifts from cold to guilty. I tried releasing Azriel’s hand, but he gripped tighter. “She is going to gather her things and we are going to leave.” Cassian dipped his head, “Rhys expects you home in three days’ time. Meaning that he does not want to see you until then. Nod if you understand, Cassian.” Cassian gave a nod. “Good.” Azriel led me to my room, and he shut the door, and I closed my eyes my heartbeat racing. My thoughts began to overtake my senses.

Weak

Pathetic

Worthless

You don’t belong with him. You don’t belong with anyone.

You. Don’t. Belong.

I choked on a sob leaning against the bed post. Shadows swirling up to my cheeks, kissing away my tears.

“Come on,” I opened my eyes as Azriel’s hands gripped my shoulders, “Let’s get your things.”

Azriel helped me pack my things, I slipped out to the door and headed back to Cassian. Hearing the chair shift as I headed toward the door the Shadow Singer in tow, calling out my name, though muffled by the shadows. Azriel opened the door, letting the sun in and I turned to look at Cassian. His hazel eyes lined with silver, there was pleading there. Don’t go, please, they said.

“Goodbye, Cassian.” A sob escaped and his shoulders began to shake violently as tears streamed down his cheeks. Something felt heavy against my chest, and I had to battle the urge to go to him and wipe his tears. Azriel guided me outside and shut the door behind him, muting the sounds of the General of the Night Court’s Army’s cries.

Wrapping my arms around Az’s neck he grips my waist my bag in his other hand, and he shot us up to the sky. “You, okay?” He asked.

“I just want to go home.” I said, fighting off my own tears. Az shadows consume the two of us as he winnows us to the streets of Velaris. He put me down but gripped my hand as he led us to the town home. The sidra glistening against the morning sun. I instinctively leaned my head against his arm, trying not to focus on the male we left behind.

We walked in silence for a couple beats before nudged me with his shoulder. “You know for what its worth. I know he is remorseful.”

I rolled my eyes, “How could you possibly know that?”

Az smirked, “He could have easily broken away from my shadows. Had them skittering back to me without blinking an eye.” I lifted my head to meet his eyes. His hazel eyes held no hint of humor. “He is one of the most powerful Illyrian, Archeron.”

We reached the town home, and I gripped his elbow halting him in his tracks. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he chose to stay in that chair.” Azriel’s shadows swirled around my wrist. “He didn’t want to frighten you.”

I crossed my arms, “That’s not good enough.”

Azriel lips pressed in a tight line for a moment. “I know. I would be disappointed in you, if it was enough for you.” He cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead, “Make him suffer, Archeron.”

I gave him a smile, “I’ll make him the Lord of Tears Shed.”

Azriel barked a laugh, “I’m stealing that.”

“Go for it.” I smiled as we headed into the house.

“Rhys, Feyre and Amren are almost back.” Az gracefully changed the subject.

“Were they successful?”

Az’s face turned grim, “Yes.”

“But?”

“But it came at a price.”

I sighed, “It always does. How bad?”

Azriel smiled, “Let’s just say Cassian isn’t the only one banned from the Summer Court anymore.”

Cassian’s POV

A fist collided with my cheek while I was at the training ring, Rhysand’s ring digging into my skin. Blood pooled in my mouth the metallic taste assaulting my taste buds. “You called her weak.” I lifted my head for Rhys to hit another blow on the opposite cheek. Blood spattered on the rock as it sprayed out of my mouth. “You called her worthless.”

I snarled, “I never called her that. I would never call her that!”

It was Azriel’s voice that spoke next, “That’s exactly how she felt though! She opened up to you about her deepest insecurities, things she hadn’t even told Feyre about! You used that insecurity and threw it back in her face.” Azriel’s flickered with anger, his shadows swirling around him clearly agitated.

“You know who also does that, Cassian?” Rhys’ voice is calm as my gaze meets him. At that moment, Rhysand was not the High Lord, or my friend. He was being a protective brother. “Nesta. She has spent most of her life with that kind of torment. I would believe that Xavier did it too.” He wound up his arm and felt the crunch of my nose. “Feyre told me that she kept to herself. That she doesn’t trust easily. She trusted you. For whatever reason, you made her feel safe.” I could hear one of my ribs cracking. “Why?”

I fell to my knees, “I was angry.” I hang my head low, blood dripping on the concrete. “Devlon got under my skin, and I was pissed.” My breathing was labored. I went straight to my room to prevent myself from lashing out, but she followed me.” The tears could fall before I could stop them. “She wanted to help.”

“And then you said she was barely able to help herself.” Rhys roared. “That she was always waiting for one of us to help her.” He knelt and gripped my face tightly. “Imagine how she feels, in a place where most fae hate her kind. Imagine how she felt when the first time she went back to the one place she should feel safe in, she was taken. She absolutely should expect us to be there for her. Because should any of our enemies get to her, she may not actually stand a chance.”

“I know.” I wheezed. “I want to make this right.”

“Go to Madja and get healed.” Rhys said, his violet eyes cold. “I still need my general to breathe.” With that he took to the skies, likely checking in on Y/N. Leaving me alone with my best friend. His face cold, no playful glint in his eyes.

Azriel stalked over to me, his face was one I’ve seen before; one he used on his for the poor souls in his dungeons. I dipped my head, blood dripping past my lips. Az gripped my hair yanking my head back to meet his gaze. His shadows swirled as his lips turned into a snarl. “Fix. It.” He tugged my hair harshly once more. “And pray to the mother that she forgives you.” His knee collided with my chest, the underlying threat clear as I collapsed to the harsh gravel, trying to regain my breath. As Azriel left me in the training ring with my thoughts.

I tried to take a deep breath the searing pain of my abdomen screamed in response. This was what I deserved. No pain would ever compare to seeing Y/N’s eyes look so broken at my words. I had a plan I just hoped she would hear me out.

Rhysand had other plans. “I’m not arguing with you about this.” My brother crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “You’re going.”

I clenched my fist. “How can I fix things if Y/N is here and I’m dealing with her insufferable sister.”

“She won’t even be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes. You can make your sad attempts at forgiveness when you return.”

I slammed my fist on his desk, “You’re a prick. You know that.”

“Watch it, brother. I could ban you from seeing her at all.” Rhys’ voice was even, his voice void of any emotion.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I whispered. “You know how much she means to me.”

Rhysand stood placing his palms on the desk in front of him eyes dark. “You want to wager on that?” I remained silent and his words softened, “As much as I want you to fix this. I need my General right now. I’m not saying this to hurt you, Brother, but she doesn’t need you right now.”

I pressed my lip in a tight line. “Fine.” I turned to walk away. I opened the door.

“Cass, she will come around you know?” I walked out the door leaving his question unanswered and took off to human lands. Though the hairs on the back of neck tingled, unease coiling in my belly, as I had the sense someone was staring at me. I wouldn’t turn to see Mor’s smug face.

I met Nesta’s cold stare with one of my own. She had let me in without so much as a glance only to lead me into the dining room. “Where’s Elain?”

“In her garden. I’m trying to limit her time with…your kind.” I may have towered over the eldest Archeron sister, but she had a gift of making people feel small with just the tilt of her head. On this day Nesta wore a beautiful blue gown, and her hair was braided in her usual style. Yet my mind kept drifting to her baby sister and how similar they look. The way they stand, the same scowl that scrunches up their nose.

“Has your brutish ways impacted your hearing as it has your brain?” My wings rustled as I returned my gaze to the eldest Archeron, “I asked how my sisters were.”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re fine.”

Nesta quirked a brow, “Oh yeah, Y/N giving you a hard time?”

I stilled, “What makes you say that?”

Nesta smirked, “You have the same look most people have when she’s being difficult.”

“She’s not difficult.” I tried to focus on my breathing, remembering the vile things she said to her sister the first time we met. “If anything, I’m the one who made things difficult.”

Nesta lowered her arms and stared at me, her cold gray eyes searching my face. “You love her?” I snorted and to my surprise that took Nesta off guard. “What is loving a human such an outlandish thought to you?” her lips curled upward in a snarl.

I shook my wings and my body and eased my body and mind into something calm, thinking of Y/N’s hand in mine or who beautiful smile. “No, not outlandish for me at all. No what is outlandish to me is the fact you have spent years treating her so terribly and yet here you are asking if she’s okay and if I love her, when even if you did love her, you will never tell her as much.

I approached the woman her back pressing against the wall, “Tell me Nesta, do you know what happened that night you asked her to die?”

Nesta’s eyes widened, as if she too was recalling the memory. “You almost got your wish that day. She almost died. I found her strung up like an animal, her blood was everywhere. We barely made it in time. I could see Nesta paling as I continued. “Did you know the lover she took here got off on torturing her even assaulted her?”

“How dare you-“

“Did. You. Know.” I gritted my teeth my arms caging Nesta in so she couldn’t avoid this. “Did you know that this man had been using her as a doll for months using her job as leverage to get her to stay? Only for her to come home and want love and affection from her sisters only to find disdain and despair here.”

Nesta face looked pain only for a moment before her cool mask slipped back into place. “No, I didn’t and it’s not my place to know what type of lovers my sisters make. I’m sure if he was in high standing to help us get out of poverty, she would have made do.”

I stepped away from her. “Unbelievable. You would have subjected Y/N to a death sentence if you made her stay with him. You didn’t see the cuts on her back like I did. If you had it maybe you wouldn’t be so calm and serene about it.”

Nesta stepped away from the wall smoothing her skirts walking over to the desk in the living room. She opened the drawer to quickly shut it and turned back to me with an envelope in her hand. “They wish to meet in a weeks’ time.” Nesta eyes were glassy, but the fiery rage remained. “Be here in that time. Now. Get Out.”

I snatched the letter from her hand, “You are a disgrace. You failed in every way that counts, Nesta Archeron.” I walked past her heading for the door. I called over my shoulder, “And yet Y/N is the first person to come to your defense or speak of you as someone who needs healing. You never deserved her as your sister.” And with that I left, and I swore I heard a choked sob before I took to the skies.

Reader’s POV

Cassian had been home for a week. I had managed to avoid him by training with Azriel, studying with Rhysand and using his own brothers as shields if he got too close. Both Rhys and Az were happy to oblige in keeping me close and occupied. Then the gifts began appearing at my door.

Chocolates, Jewels, Shoes, by the end of the week the stack of Journals came to my hip. They all went unanswered. The boxes began to collect dust, the chocolates went stale, and the jewels suspiciously went missing after day two. Something tells me a short black-haired female was the culprit of that. Though nothing Cassian could buy with money would not be able to sway me to forgive him. Not after he hurt me in such a deep way.

Feyre walked into my room with a box in her hands at the start of the week, we had been able to spend more time together since the fiasco at the cabin, reading in the library, sharing meals together, walking through the streets of Velaris. It felt like the times before we lost our fortune when it was me and her against the world, I hadn’t realized how much I missed just being in her presence until we started spending more time together. “This was at your door.” She said shaking the box. She plopped on my bed dropping the box onto my lap. “Open it!”

I sighed, putting my book down, I untied the ribbon and open the lid, with a note.

Princess,

Please accept this gift as my apology to you.

I miss you.

Cassian.

Handing Feyre, the note, I began unwrapping the paper to find a gorgeous red silk gown I picked it up out of the box. Feyre smiled and nudged me, “Try it on.” Facing her I opened my mouth to protest and was met with her pushing me off the bed. “Right now.”

A few moments and I emerged from the changing partition and Feyre gasped. “Y/N… you look so beautiful.” I walked over to the mirror and turned to get a full view. The bodice of the gown, being held up by thin straps, had glittered fabric covering just enough that the swells of my breast were on display. Rich Silk overlapped meeting the sheer fabric covering my abdomen, red boning standing out against the flesh tone. The red satin draped down ruching at my hips as it cascades down a revealing slit to reveal my newly toned and muscled leg. I had to agree with Feyre.

The dress was stunning, but I recalled the note left with it and I pursed my lips.

Are you that incompetent of taking care of yourself? His voice echoed in my mind.

“He called me worthless. Did he believe that that him buying me this was going to make me fall to my knees and forgive him.” I rolled my eyes and went back to change out of the dress. “Didn’t even hand me this gift himself, had to leave it at my door like a coward.” I mumbled sliding the rich fabric off my body and back into my purple dress with light lavender tulle sleeves. I walked over to the bed to place the dress back into the box.

“What are you going to do with the dress?” Feyre questioned not seeming to have an answer for my earlier inquiries.

“Keeping it. The dress is gorgeous and fits me like a glove. The dress will not suffer because the male who gifted it, is incompetent.” I sighed and crawled into bed placing my head on my twin’s lap where she instinctively fingers through my hair. “This isn’t enough.”

Feyre hummed and we sat in silence for a moment. “What would it take for him to earn that forgiveness?” I glance up at her and her blue eyes meet mine, “Is what happened unforgivable to you?”

I thought about it. Cassian up to this point had been nothing by kind and attentive to me. What he said was said at a moment of anger and if I was honest, I pushed when I should have let him be. However, that did not give him a right to throw my past and my insecurities back in my face the way he did. “No. It’s not. Not for him anyway.This dress or the other gifts for that matter, doesn’t tell me that this won’t happen again. That he won’t lash out and hurt me. I have given my heart to cruel people too many times. I can’t risk that again.”

Feyre hummed once more. “Rhysand and I are going to the human lands.” I sat up at that and gave her a questioning look. “Yes Nesta, sent word to Cassian two days ago.” Oh, so that’s why the gifts had stopped at that point. “We are to go back in a few days.”

“Great I’ll-“

“Rhys thinks it would be best if you stayed home. I can’t say I disagree, with everything that has gone on,” and everything that happened the last time I was in the human lands, though she doesn’t say it. “I must agree. I would feel better knowing you were here.

I lay back on the bed and groan, “You are lucky that I am in no mood to fight. I’ll stay but I’ll grumble about it the whole time.”

Feyre kissed my cheek, “Thank you. Now let’s go get breakfast, I’m starved.” I laughed and followed her out the room, though I can’t get the image of Cassian taking off that dress off me from my mind.

Cassian’s POV

I was almost ready to give up by the time Feyre and Rhys were getting ready for the meeting with the human queens. I stormed into Rhys’s office with the last gifts I provided. “What kind of person destroys a stuffed toy?” I hold up the stuffed bat I got her, whose wings are now ripped apart.

Azriel and Rhys both pressed their lips in a tight line, but it was Azriel who lost his composure first. I threw the bat at him, and he caught it with ease. “She’s brilliant. I love her.” He looked to Rhys, “Can we keep her?”

I groaned plopping on the couch as Feyre came in. “I just don’t know what else to do. I have tried everything. I even wrote her a letter. She looked me in the eye as she threw it in the fire.” Her words still haunted my memories:

“How would you feel if the one person you trusted with your heart took your deepest insecurities and threw them in your face. The one person you felt safe and protected with just takes everything you are so afraid to burden people with and tells you, you are exactly that. A burden.” Then she walked away.

“Cassian did you hear me?” Feyre’s voice pulled me out of my daze. Recognizing that she caught me she smiled and gripped my hand with her own. “She doesn’t want material things or pretty words Cass. She wants security that what happened at the cabin will never happened again.” With her free hand she pressed her palm against my chest. “She would much rather you give your heart in exchange for hers than any material object.”

An idea blossomed into my mind, and I smiled looking at my girl’s twin. “My heart”. I pressed my palm over the back of her hand on my chest. I kissed her cheek, “Have I told you how brilliant you are today?”

Feyre smiled, “No, but I can see your gears turning in that mind of yours, do you have a plan?”

I nod and look to Azriel, “I do, but I need your help, Az.”

Azriel smiled, “Tell me what I need to do.”

So, I did.

Rhysand and Feyre had left for the human realm that night and I set off to go find Y/N. I started in the library and to my surprise she was there. I smiled looking at her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lip tucked between her teeth. Her hair was up in a cute little bun, and she wore those knee-high socks that made my cock strain in my leathers.

“I can see you, General.” She said not bothering to look up from her book. “Something you need?”

“Get dressed.” That caught her attention. Her eyes meet mine in a challenge. “I can’t keep doing this, Princess. I miss you.”

“You should have-“

“I’m well aware of what my actions have done,” I stepped deeper into the room approaching her. “I am asking you to give me a chance to show you, just how sorry I am.”

“I can’t leave-“

“I’m not arguing with you about this. I am asking for a chance. Please.”

I could see her expression turn into contemplation. Then with a sigh she closed her book, and I fought my heart from swelling as her eyes met mine, “What should I wear?” I smiled.

It felt good to have her in my arms once more as we landed in the mountains. She was shivering as we walked a few miles from the clearing I landed in. I tucked my wing around her to prevent the wind from whipping her skin raw. Her teeth chattering told me otherwise. “We’re almost there, Sweetheart.”

“Cassian, Where are we goin-“She paused mid-sentence as the Cabin came into view. A large cabin sat here the chimney already having plumes of smoke swirling out of the top. Her mouth was slightly agape that the cabin was about the size of the town home, and she looked around the area her gaze found the one thing I was hoping she would find. Walking closer to one of the larger trees that had wildflowers blooming she looked at the frame of the woman. The portrait had faded over time and not in the best condition due to weather here, but the woman shared my eyes and it was the only good quality photo I had of her. “Cass, what is this? Who is she?”

I knelt in front of the memorial and smiled my hand grazing the picture, “This is my home, Princess.” I looked to Y/N and gave another smile, “This is a portrait of my mother.”

To Be Continued...

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @blackgirlmagicforever @fullmoon-94 @thehighlordishere @jenniferpendragon @ray4hotchner @phoenix666stuff @misskennygirl @whitewolfsbitch @highladyivy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @packsvlog @heyyhelloohii @parabatai-winchester @julesofvolterra @lilah-asteria @lyanna133 @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @milswrites @eve175 @acourtofbatboydreams @saltedcoffeescotch @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @talesofadragon

If I didn't tag you please let me know so I can get it fixed straight away!

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian #archeron sister #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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hyperfixiation-station · 22 hours

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I swear I'm working on my fics, but I just had an idea while reading this post by @dante-mightdie. Also inspired by @a-b-riddle poly!141.

So like its poly!141 and reader, and the 141 has been ignoring reader and is just not good for them, and so when they go out without you, again, you decide to just...leave.

You live with them, of course, they wouldnt have it any other way, (you weren’t 'safe' alone) so you can't just text them and say the relationships over. There's no where for you to run, no way to hide once you do. So you instead you pack your bags and go, no note.

Now this is the 141, you know them, know how good they are. You know that one of them will check the camera when the motion detector goes off, you know that they'll come rushing hime when they see you leaving. You know that you've got maybe 1 hour from the moment you leave before they start looking for you.

So you pack your bag, leave your electronics at home, and head to the nearest Walmart. There, you cut your hair in the bathroom, change clothes, get a new bag, get glasses, and pull out as much cash as the ATM will allow you. You change your gait, walking with a limp so that they can't identify you that way.

Next you book a hotel with your card, the last purchase you make with it before throwing it away. Hoping to buy yourself more time.

You take your cash to another Walmart, spreadong out amongst Visa gift cards. You purchase a burner phone, call your sister and, one tearful conversation later, get the okay to stay with her, and book a flight to America.

You only breathe when you're part TSA. There's a hole in your heart, the weight of your emotions so heavy you can feel it. You feel guilty for just up and leaving, but by the time you start ahving second thoughts, it's too late to go back. Your plane has already left the ground.

This doesn't makes sense, I'm sorry, but I wanted to get it out XD.

#brain worms #cod fanfic #cod #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley #angst #cod x reader #poly!141 #john price x reader #price fanfiction #captain john price #johnny mactavish #john price #my brain is mush #rambles

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obsessedwithceleste · 23 hours

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Mattheo Riddle Headcannons

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Being the son of the Dark Lord is no easy task. Obviously.

Growing up, Mattheo had very limited contact with other people, which stunts his social skills a lot, especially with his peers

Once he breaks out and has the ability to meet other people, he's 100% an extrovert because he feels like he has to make up for everything that he missed out on

Growing up alone though made him very independent and self sufficient

Lots of trust issues, lots of abandonment issues

But he's also very bad at picking up on social cues, and reading other people's emotions

He grew up being outwardly judged by everyone around him, which caused him to develop a sort of apathetic attitude as a buffer

This gives him a sense of freedom because if he doesn't care about other's opinions, he can do whatever he wants, they'll judge him either way, so why not do what makes him happy

Mattheo also has a deep internal rage

Like, level 11 out of 10 on the scale of anger issues

He bottles up all his emotions and frustration with the world, often lashing out and exploding at the smallest triggers

His frustration mostly stems from the fact that it's not fair that he's suffering for the actions of his father. Because at the end of the day, he's still innocent in all of it

This is also why he's particularly spiteful and disdainful of authoritarian figures

He simply doesn't owe them anything

At Hogwarts it's hard for him at first. It's pretty clear that he didn't have much of a childhood and that he was forced to grow up much too fast

And once again, he finds himself being judged by everyone, so nothing new

His biggest pet peeve is when someone complains about a minor "tragedy" from their childhood, because he's absolutely certain that he had it worse

Lowkey victim complex™️

He's able to eventually bond closely with Theodore Nott, sharing a lot of similar childhood trauma (we <3 trauma bonding) and surprisingly Lorenzo Berkshire who shares his fuck-all mentality

Many assume that he's a malicious bully, based solely on his last name, but he's really more of a chaos instigator

He rebels against authority and stands up for what he might find to be an injustice, but he'd never go after someone without cause

Hogwarts is one of the first places he's able to truly act his age

He joins the Slytherin quidditch team,

He's a beater (which is kind of therapeutic as it allows him to let out a lot of his anger)

Often skives off of class,

He's not book smart like Theo, but makes up for it with street smarts

And likes to pull Theo into the fray simply because he can

This is also how he gets his reputation for frequently sleeping around to put it nicely

Mattheo grew up with a distinct lack of affection from those around him which causes him to search out any hint of it that he can find

He doesn't really use girls per se, he just doesn't quite understand the concept of love

But when Mattheo falls, he falls hard

The first time he catches feelings, he's absolutely terrified that he's under the influence of a love potion

Very confused, very upset, and denies it to the ends of the Earth

But once he comes around, he's all in

He doesn't like to think of himself as jealous, just territorial.

Jealousy is when something isn't yours and you want it. But you belong to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't defend his territory

He also isn't shy at all when it comes to PDA, simply because he wants everyone to know what's his

Definitely love bombs, but he doesn't know what that means

Won't bat an eye before hexing someone for looking at you too long (will act innocent and pretend it wasn't him)

Honestly probably would not be the best partner initially because he's so used to being independent

And would likely try to hide a lot of his anger and emotions from you because his biggest fear would be being judged by someone he loves

It would take a lot of time and effort to work through, but Mattheo would be willing to put in the work because he's determined to have the one thing his father never could

#slytherin boys #slytherin #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle headcanons #harry potter universe #my boy desperately needs therapy

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musingsofanaroace · 17 hours

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Coming Out as AroAce-Things People Say

Here's a list of things people have said to me when I came out as AroAce to them.

It's just a phase.

I can fix you.

Doctor House cured someone who thought they were asexual. Perhaps you just need to see a doctor.

Maybe you just haven't met the right person yet.

Don't worry, you're still young. When you get older, you'll change your mind. (Note: I was twenty-five!)

You just made up this sexual orientation because you want to feel special.

You'll be alone forever.

I'm sure you'll find someone. Don't give up hope!

What do you mean you don't feel sexual and romantic attraction? Everyone does. Maybe there's something wrong with you that a doctor can fix.

Does that mean you want to become a nun?

That's not a real thing. Surely, you're making that up.

How sad. You're so pretty! Is there a cure?

I'll pray for you. I'm sure Jesus can set you on the path of righteousness and make you whole once more. My church meets on Saturdays. Do you want to go with me? The pastor is the kindest soul you could ever meet. I'm sure he could help you.

Oh, you're just scared to date someone. You know, I have a friend who's really nice. Do you want his number?

Are you sure you're not just a lesbian?

What's that? It sounds like the name of a stripper club.

Perhaps if you wore makeup and grew out your hair, you could get a boyfriend. No problem.

How interesting! I never heard of such a thing before. Huh...You learn something new everyday.

That makes sense.

AroAce? What's that? Is it contagious?

That's cool. Do you AroAce people have your own flag? (Blank stare from me.) Sorry, I just really love flags. (I show him the flag.) Wow! It reminds me of the beach.

A isn't for ally? Are you sure? I read on a forum a while back that the A stood for ally. Maybe you got your facts mixed up.

Don't be silly. There's no such thing as an AroAce. Stop making things up!

sister's boyfriend: You're f-- delusional! AroAce isn't a thing. You just can't accept the fact that no one wants to date a psychotic b--. You don't stand a f-- chance of getting a boyfriend until you get some psychiatric help first. (Note: Fortunate for him, I kept my cool and didn't push him down the stairs.)

Well, that's all I remember/have written down. Until next time, take care and stay curious.

#lgbtqia #aroace #aromantic #asexual #aphobia

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gojoidyll · 1 day

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hihihi hruuu

Could you pretty please write something where megumi accidentally makes reader cry and then immediately feels bad abt it because I love megumi and I also love hurt/comfort

It's been awhile since I wrote anything for Fushiguro, so I hope I don't disappoint <3

Fushiguro x Reader, Hurt/Comfort

“No, I would never date them. They’re too annoying. Always so loud and clingy too. I would be exhausted just dealing with them.”

“Hey! Isn’t that a bit harsh? Even for you.”

Fushiguro merely rolled his eyes. What started as a meaningless conversation at a sleepover in your room quickly turned into gossiping. And, like any sleepover, love was in the air as Kugisaki and Itadori couldn’t help but to bring up the topic when you left to get more popcorn for the group.

“So, you’re telling me that you feel absolutely nothing for them?”

“Yeah, aren’t you two childhood friends?”

“They merely clung to me throughout school. Nothing more, nothing less.”

As for you? You were waiting behind the door, listening to everything. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was your room after all. How were you supposed to know that your childhood best friend, the exact same person you had a long-time crush on, was telling your other friends how annoying you are and that a relationship between you two will be nonexistent from now and long into the future.

You stood behind the door, frozen in shock, as Fushiguro's words hit you like a ton of bricks. The popcorn in your hands suddenly felt heavy, and your heart sank as you realized that your feelings for him were not reciprocated. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, not wanting your friends to see you upset.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself and walked back into the room, trying to act as if you hadn't heard anything. But the atmosphere had changed, and Fushiguro's words lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the rest of the night.

As the evening wore on, you tried to act normal, laughing at jokes and joining in the conversations. But inside, you were hurting, trying to come to terms with the fact that Fushiguro saw you only as a clingy childhood friend, nothing more.

Eventually, the sleepover came to an end, and your friends left, leaving you alone in your room. You sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. How could Fushiguro say those things about you? Didn't he know how much you cared about him?

But deep down, you knew that you couldn't force someone to feel a certain way about you. You had to accept that Fushiguro didn't see you in the same light that you saw him. It was a painful realization, but one that you knew you had to come to terms with.

As you lay in bed, thoughts swirling in your head, you made a decision. You wouldn't let Fushiguro's words define you. You would continue to be the kind, caring person that you were, regardless of how he saw you. And maybe, just maybe, someday he would see you in a different light. But until then, you would focus on loving yourself and moving forward, even if it meant letting go of your feelings for him.

Though, you did worry about what tomorrow would bring…

The next day weighed heavily on your mind as you tried to push away thoughts of Fushiguro's words. You couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and betrayal, even though you knew deep down that he had the right to his own feelings.

As you went about your day, you couldn't help but notice the looks from your friends. They seemed to sense that something was off, but you brushed off their concerns with a forced smile. You didn't want to burden them with your feelings, especially when it seemed like they were already tiptoeing around you.

During classes, you found it hard to concentrate, your mind wandering back to the sleepover and the conversation you overheard. (You were also surprised that no one seemed to bother you, not even Gojo-sensei.) You wondered if Fushiguro regretted his words or if he even realized how much they had hurt you. But you pushed those thoughts away, knowing that dwelling on them would only make you feel worse.

After school and a short mission, you decided to take a walk to clear your head. The cool breeze and the sound of birds chirping provided some solace, and you found yourself reflecting on your friendship with Fushiguro. Despite everything, you knew that your bond was strong, and you hoped that it would endure this rough patch.

As you walked, you made a decision. You would confront Fushiguro and tell him how his words had made you feel. You didn't expect him to reciprocate your feelings, but you wanted him to know the impact of his words. You needed closure, even if it meant facing more pain.

When you arrived at your room, you found Fushiguro waiting for you outside your door, a solemn expression on his face. He looked like he had been waiting for this moment, and you knew that it was time to have a difficult conversation.

You had been distant and out of it all day, and Fushiguro noticed. As you approached your dorm room, he called out to you, his voice tinged with concern. As you had got closer you found that you didn’t have the courage to face him yet despite hiding how you felt really well so far.

"Can we talk?"

You ultimately decided to face him, and the concern in his eyes softened your resolve to run away. You nodded, silently inviting him to speak. But you didn't dare open you door. You didn't want to let him in there again. Not yet at least. Whatever he had to say can be done in the hallway (you just hoped Kugisaki wouldn't walk by...).

"You've been acting strange all day. Is everything okay?"

At his words, you finally felt your resolve break as the tears immediately started falling. One second you were fine, but the next moment your eyes felt wet, and seeing you break out into tears caused his eyes to widen, “What-“

"I overheard what you said last night, Fushiguro. About me being annoying and clingy. It really hurt,” your voice sounded shaky as you tried to speak.

“I-“

“I know I can be a bit much sometimes, but I really thought you were my friend, and to think that I- I actually loved you too.”

Fushiguro's expression fell, realizing the impact of his words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why did you say it.”

“I don’t like those two getting in my personal business, and, well, you already know what it’s like trying to get me to open up,” he smiled slightly, trying to make a joke as he nudged his foot with yours.

“Yeah, you’re an absolute ass sometimes.”

“Only sometimes.”

You frowned, but the tension between you had already started to dissipate, “you’re right, I meant all the time.”

Fushiguro squeezed your hand gently. "I'll try to be better. I value our friendship more than anything. Can you forgive me?"

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret there. Despite the hurt, you knew that Fushiguro was truly sorry. With a sigh, you nodded.

"I'll forgive you, Fushiguro. But please, don't ever say something like that again. It really hurt."

"I won't," Fushiguro promised. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."

As you stood there, holding hands with Fushiguro, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You knew that healing would take time, but you also knew that your friendship with Fushiguro was strong enough to withstand this rough patch.

Not to mention that you knew that your feelings for Fushiguro were still there and that even though he didn’t quite acknowledge the fact that you said that you loved him, you were thankful. You didn’t want to be rejected after you just made up with him after all.

And who knows…maybe Fushiguro feels the same.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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kefiteria · 2 days

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FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.

A comfort letter from Scaramouche to you.

So, I've noticed you've been retreating into your mind more than usual lately. It's like you're doing a disappearing act even Houdini would envy. But hey, I get it. People are complicated creatures, and occasionally it feels safer to hide behind our thoughts than to face the chaos out there.

About this facade you've got going on. You know, the one where you're holding on to your inner child like it's a winning lottery ticket? It's almost comical how tightly you cling to it, as if someone's lurking around the corner waiting to snatch it away. Newsflash: nobody's taking it from you, dear.

Now, about those tears. I know, I know, crying is for the weak, right? Wrong. Even the toughest nuts crack sometimes. Take it from me, I've shed more tears than I care to admit, and yet here I am, still standing, still better as ever. You don't have to plaster on that smile 24/7, you know. Let those tears flow like a leaky faucet if you need to.

And speaking of tough times, let's talk about failure. It's not the end of the world, despite what your overactive brain might be telling you. Trust me, I've had my fair share of failures, and look at me now—still standing, scheming and myself.

So, when are you going to cut yourself some slack? Stop beating yourself up over things that are as out of your control as the weather. Tomorrow's just another day in the grand circus of life, and guess what? I'm your ringmaster, baby. You're not in this alone.

And those feelings you've been bottling up? Yeah, it's time to pop the cork and let 'em out. Trust me, it's like a pressure valve for the soul. Cry if you need to, scream into the void if you must. Just don't keep it all locked up inside. That's a recipe for disaster, believe me.

So, here's the deal: you're not alone in this. I've got your back, whether you're crying like a baby or plotting world domination (ugh just do it in moderation though). Just remember, it's okay to let your guard down once in a while. After all, even the sharpest swords need a little sharpening now and then.

Alright, let's wrap this up before I start growing a conscience or something equally absurd. Seriously, who knew pouring my heart out on paper could be so exhausting? I feel like I've been on a marathon run through a field of emotional landmines, and I'm not even wearing my running shoes.

But hey, if this little rant of mine manages to knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours, then I guess it's worth the carpal tunnel I'm bound to get from all this writing. Just promise me one thing: don't go making a habit out of this whole “feeling your feelings” nonsense. It's bad for my image.

So, there you have it. Consider this your one and only free pass to the sappy side of Scaramouche. Don't get used to it. Now go on, get out there and conquer the world, or cry yourself a river, whichever floats your boat. Just remember: you're not alone in this crazy circus we call life. I've got your back, whether you like it or not.

“It's okay, your world, and feelings are precious, so precious just like you are now.”

Fondly yours (don't make it a habit),

Scaramouche.

#kefimenu #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scara x reader #genshin scara #fluff #genshin impact #genshin oneshots #genshin x reader #comfort #Spotify

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bestworstcase · 1 day

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option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.

pros:

a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.

ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.

if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.

cons:

realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.

it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.

means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.

honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?

tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?

glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.

if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.

option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.

pros:

a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.

gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.

we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)

introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.

easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.

cons:

makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.

leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.

option 3: tai is dead.

pros:

explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.

might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.

cons:

raven would know.

it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.

option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.

pros:

“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.

brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.

cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.

raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).

consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.

the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.

foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"

juicy

cons:

???

dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)

taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY

option 5: secret fifth thing

pros:

???

cons:

???

75 notes · View notes

munariplans · 17 hours

Note

Hello there, Your writing deserves a Michelin star. I eat it up every time and I’m NEVER disappointed. Thank you. If I may, I’d request (in a very polite and “no pressure” tone) a fic about Natasha and spider-reader regarding the Odesa mission Natasha outlines in The Winter Solider or a “first time” fic for the couple if you are comfortable.

Keeping doing what you are doing. You are great at it. In the meantime, I will be talking to Michelin about getting you more stars.

synopsis: based on the request for the odessa mission above! plus a backstory and a little character exploration of our spidey!reader, wherein the mission highlights a little of their dynamic too.

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.4k words

a/n: i'm back :) thank you everyone for your patience, and i hope you enjoy this one.

masterlist

a thumb brushing over your own. her knee pressed up against yours. her scent calming your senses down. natasha was beside you, red hair a stark contrast to the all-black tactical suit. on her face, was a comforting look. she didn’t smile, but she didn’t need to. her being there was enough.

“you okay?” you knew she knew something was troubling you deeply. but for the sake of the mission, yours and her sanity, and the engineer sitting behind the both of you at the train station, she didn’t ask. you thought she did it so naturally, being able to comfort you.

you didn’t know it was taking all she had in her not to freak out. she wasn’t sure if this was what people did, or how best she could do to comfort you. she could only reciprocate what she found she liked best when you comforted her. but in the presence of everyone else, she couldn’t do the last thing you always did for her; pull her into the tightest hug and let the world itself disappear away. she knew the both of you needed to be half-alert, at least.

natasha felt like she was the one breathing out a sigh of relief when the wrinkles in your forehead disappeared slightly, your own thumb rubbing hers back. “yeah, i–i’m fine.”

“do you want to talk about it…?” she was pushing her luck.

you looked back at the engineer. he was asleep. the contact for the rental car wasn’t due to arrive in an hour. natasha looked back at him as well, and offered you a small smile, “ninety percent of the mission’s done anyway. simple in and out, get him transported back to SHIELD. makes me wonder why fury asked us both. maybe he felt guilty for sending you away on that undercover for so long; let us have a little bit of a workcation together.”

your mind was screaming at you; but you shrugged and gave her a smile back. “yeah. maybe he did.”

she didn’t know that you and her had separate missions, after all. while hers had been to sneak into the research facility and escort the engineer out, and transport him safely back to SHIELD, you had been informed that there would be…obstacles, in the way. you just didn’t know when.

you remembered the meeting with fury well. you had told him, that with such a statute and reputation the winter soldier had, that you weren’t confident of taking him alone, especially in a place so out of your element. but he had reassured you that you would be fine, and that you should focus on your own assignment when the time came, while natasha focused hers solely on the engineer. you had thought it wasn’t very fair. natasha deserved to know of any dangers, at least, that might pop up, but fury insisted that since it was one of her first few missions as a team lead, he hadn’t wanted to shake her confidence. you had no choice but to comply.

turning your attention back to the hand holding yours, you squeezed it for a moment, then said, “when we get back, can we…just…have a break around the chrysler building? the rooftop, just you and me?”

natasha nodded. she understood. and she didn’t push.

—

when the three of you finally reached odessa, you sat with the engineer as natasha convinced the guards to let you through without passports. knowing russian, aided with a heavy handed helping of flirting and subtle lowering of her zipper, definitely did wonders. and while nervous as you were, spider-senses tingling all over for the winter soldier, you still managed to let out a less-than-annoyed tsk when she returned, taking great care to zip up the rest of her suit and glaring at the guards behind her.

“careful,” she smirked, hand reaching for your cheek to turn your eyes to her, “they won’t let us through if they don’t at least find it believable that they can have me.”

“no one else can have you,” you replied, but she was already walking towards the car, hips swaying purposefully so, and another wave of irritation crept up upon you, “no one, you hear me?”

natasha waited for the engineer to get in, before chuckling and looking back at you. “are you getting in, spidey?”

when you had safely passed the borders and began driving on the snowy, white roads, natasha unbuckled her seatbelt for a minute, before pulling you in from your attention on the road to steal your breath with her lips. it was only when the cherry from her lipstick had fully melted into the heat of your mouth did she let go, panting just as hard as you were. you were very thankful the roads were empty.

“god, i love it when you get jealous,” she muttered.

to her displeasure, however, the engineer behind let out a disgusted scoff, and murmured, “you guys know i’m here, right?”

“yes, and we don’t mind returning you right back to HYDRA if you complain one more time,” you replied.

—

at a gas station pit stop, natasha knew it was wrong to pry, but she caught a glimpse of your wallet as you paid for snacks on the trip, and an old, almost-faded picture of a younger you next to an older woman was all that her eyes could zero on. you were in a new, freshly-ironed SHIELD uniform, and the woman had her hand on your shoulder, grin mirroring yours. natasha had never seen her before.

you shut the wallet promptly after, and natasha trailed behind as you both returned to your car.

about an hour into the drive later, with the engineer’s soft snores behind the both of you, and natasha’s own eyes drooping, she knew she had to keep the both of you awake somehow.

“you can take a nap, it’s okay,” you told her, but she sat up, the sight of your wallet on the dashboard reminding her of her curiosity earlier.

she angled her head to face you, admiring the older, finer lines on your face that grew more beautiful as time passed. the younger you couldn’t compare to the sight she was treated to now.

“you always this good-looking, or did something happen when you were younger, to turn you like this?” she decided to start.

a tint of red on your cheeks, you chuckled nervously. “um…i don’t think….no. i’ve always been like this.”

“was SHIELD your first job?”

“my first job was when i was twelve. worked for a car mechanic near my place. then i took up newspaper delivery, then a restaurant, researched for my university, and a ton of other jobs,” you said sheepishly, “i wasn’t…that well-to-do.”

she let her thumb caress your cheek. you relaxed a little more. “what did you study?”

“quantum physics. full-ride scholarship, or i never would’ve been able to afford those years.”

then, after a beat of silence, you continued. “it was also where fury found me. recruited me to SHIELD intelligence then. i guess you could say it was my first official job. i wasn’t…uh…wasn’t supposed to be front-facing, you know? i wasn’t a combat agent or anything, just the intelligence. i was in intelligence for five years.”

“what changed?”

you looked at her through the mirror, eyes carrying an emotion natasha could not quite figure out. you looked away again, before sighing. “intelligence got bombed one day, everything was on fire. i was helping my teammates escape, was one of the last few out, and a burning pillar fell on me. i almost died then, paralysed from the waist down. i guess nick felt bad, that the medal of bravery he awarded could only do so much to my current situation. felt even worse when he saw my mother crying by my side. he gave me a second chance.”

“the spider serum.”

“it was experimental then, i believe the number of exclusion of liability clauses i signed reached the hundreds. i was lucky it worked. there were a few others…not so lucky ones.”

natasha reached over the console to where your leg was shaking, and she ran her palm up and down, helping you regain your sanity. “thank you for telling me.”

“it’s not–” you never finished your sentence, because in the next second, your senses overloaded with warning signals, and your hands moved quicker than your brain in swerving the car, the steering wheel jammed to the left so the bullets that you barely saw incoming landed on the car’s tires instead of the glass and right at the engineer. you remembered the engineer screaming as the car skidded off of the cliff, and you remembered jumping out right then to shoot a hanger web to save it from falling completely and crashing onto the ground.

you groaned as you gripped onto the web, feet planted on the ground as you tried pulling the car back up. you have to be quick, quicker than this. he’s here, your mind ran through those thoughts, but your arms were burning. you pulled little by little, hoping natasha was protecting the engineer down below, and the car was moving. it was probably a minute before it was near the edge, and you had one last pull left to bring it up again.

but of course, right as the wheel of the car barely touched the ground you were on again, a blunt force came ramming to the side of your head. you could hear the metal whirring of the winter soldier’s metallic arm as you felt the webs slip from your fingers, sending the car right over again.

—

luckily, the last of your webbings managed to catch on the railings of the edge of the cliff, preventing the car from crashing, but merely hanging precariously in the air.

the blaring pain in the right side of your head was all-too-consuming, but you managed to recover and gather yourself quickly enough, to see him in full view, stature almost twice of yours, face looking down to where the car was hanging. then, the winter soldier raised his rifle, and taking aim, you flew off from where you were to tackle him, throwing him off as the bullet landed astray. he grunted in annoyance, fighting you off as you tried snatching his gun off of him. your legs were straddling his torso, holding him down as the gun was wrestled between the two of you. from below, natasha was holding onto the engineer’s arm, watching the fight as she tried to figure out an alternative escape plan; rather than merely relying on you.

but when the winter soldier felt the gun finally slipping away from his hands, instead of pulling it back, however, he gave one final grunt, before pulling you in. the air was knocked out of your lungs as he slammed the both of you against the railing, his metal arm then travelling to your neck, squeezing as tight as he could.

natasha watched in horror as you struggled against his hold, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as the winter soldier began choking you. it didn’t look like a fight you could win, and her hand went to the handgun in her thigh holster, taking a leap of faith and shooting at him.

the bullet riveted off his metal arm, but it was enough. the man took his eyes off of you for a moment, and zeroed in on natasha. unfortunately, it meant that he noticed the engineer behind her too, and immediately, he threw you off of the cliff, and came closer to her. she wished she had the capacity to worry about you, but she was immediately obligated to protect the engineer first.

she angled her body over his, heart pumping in her chest as the winter soldier took aim again. from how she was shielding the engineer, and the angle the winter soldier was at, there was no way he would have a clear aim. he wouldn’t take the shot.

surely not, she thought, as his gun clicked. surely not, she thought again, as the look in his eyes became empty, almost as if he was seeing through her. surely not. he pulled the trigger.

the last thing natasha could register was the burning sear on the side of her stomach, before she was falling straight into the sea below.

—

on your end, you caught the moment right as the shot was fired, and immediately jumped off of where you landed to catch both bodies falling through the air before they hit impact and broke the surface of the water. while you were thankful that natasha’s distraction worked, it was even more horrifying to have to pull her body out of the water beside the engineer’s, your eyes fixated on the gaping wound on her stomach.

you dragged them to shore, and it was then that you noticed both of them were bleeding out, the wound on natasha was bigger than you imagined, and the bullet was still lodged within the engineer, you were sure, as he grappled with a neck that was drenched in red. he was struggling to breathe, mouth opening and closing desperately as the blood loss incapacitated him.

you were cruelly reminded of your own assignment to capture and / or kill the winter soldier, as you glanced upwards to where he was, half-expecting him to be gone already. but he was there, standing still and watching you. almost as if he was challenging you. the hatred rumbling in your heart could not account for the disappointment you felt in already failing the mission. he held eye contact with you, gun no longer aiming at either you or natasha, but instead tucked into safety. his head tilted for a moment, you heard a car pulling up a few seconds later, and he broke eye contact first. entering the car leisurely, he made his getaway without pursuit.

you contemplated giving chase, swinging upwards and taking him down. killing him with your own bare hands, for what he did to natasha, stuffing his own gun down his throat–

natasha shuddered underneath you, and those thoughts were gone as fast as they came, replaced by the instinctive need to stay and make sure she makes it out of this alive. you gathered the first aid materials from the boot of the hanging car, cursing when you dug through the kit and only found the bare minimum. half a roll of bandages, stitches, and some antiseptic. barely enough to only keep one of them alive.

when you made it back down, the engineer was seizing, and you had to turn him on his side and stabilise him for a brief moment, the coldness in your fingers not merely from the frozen waters you had just come out of. natasha, clutching onto her side, managed to notice your dilemma, and the materials you had, and her hand reached out for yours.

she was shaking, and on the verge of bleeding out, but her hands were more steady than yours. she knew. she shook her head as you began grabbing the antiseptic for her wound.

“save him. they…they…need him more,” she choked out, eyes darting between you and the engineer, but the tears brimming in your eyes barely noticed it. you swallowed down a broken sob, looking between the two one last time, before making your final decision.

fuck the assignment. fuck fury, and SHIELD, and anyone else who was going to punish you for saving natasha, anyone who even thought of saving the engineer over natasha, anyone who thought natasha was more dispensable than the engineer. you let go of natasha’s hand, and began working on her, despite her protests. the antiseptic splashed onto her wound, the stitches came weaving through her skin, you tuned out everything else to save the woman you loved first.

even the engineer groaning beside you. even his hand gripping faintly on your suit, him pleading, “i…have a family…a kid…back home. p-please.”

a kid back home. i’m killing this man with a kid back home. you were the worst person in the world, you were sure, as you spared a look at him, his lips blue and pale by then. natasha had used up all the supplies then, so all you could do was hold his hand, angling him at a half-sitting position against your body, and murmuring i’m sorry to him about a thousand times.

“...please.”

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you were killing the main objective of the mission. you were killing an innocent man because of your own selfishness.

his blood was on you, literally and figuratively, as your hands could only do so much to press against the bullet wound and try to prevent him from dying so soon. but it was imminent; he was never going to make it back, and you and him knew it. the bullet was still lodged somewhere in the back of his neck, and life was leaving his eyes.

you held him until he took his last breath, still apologising.

—

when you reached out to check on natasha for a moment, her skin was getting colder then, too. the stitches and bandages could only hold for so long, and her condition would drop steadily if you didn’t make a move soon. there was no time to wait for help to arrive. so you made the final decision to rest the engineer’s body to where emergency services could easily find him, made a call for help, and promptly brought natasha home first.

—

it was inevitable that you were suspended for almost a year for what you did. you had taken the brunt of the punishment, and volunteered to take natasha’s end of it too. fury had never looked more disappointed, and upper management had a field day berating you for your poor decision-making. you distinctly remembered one of them yelling at fury that you were the reason why they should implement a relationship ban among agents.

you should have known better. you knew you should have done better, as well. more than blaming the winter soldier, everybody could see that it was your own self that you placed the heaviest blame on. the team also knew you would have almost lost yourself, if not for natasha.

she gave you a second chance this time, making clear that you were the only one she would trust to help her get back on her feet, to help her heal. you were reluctant to ever leave the training grounds, to even let yourself handle any other mission other than getting back stronger and better, but she was there. she always was, and she ensured that you wouldn’t regret saving her instead, even if she also thought it had been a difficult choice.

when you lay in bed each night after her recovery, tracing the scar on her stomach and killing yourself in your own mind, she would run through her fingers through your hair, reminding you to get out of the headspace. when you doubted your abilities even in training the younger agents, she would back you up. even when you made the weekly visits to the engineer’s home back in the states, helping out his wife and apologising for your failure to her family. she knew even supporting his child financially for the rest of his life wasn’t enough for you.

odessa was probably the biggest failure in your career as a SHIELD agent. and there was no happy end, or satisfying outcome, you would have achieved then. but at least having natasha through the journey of your recovery from that, helped your growth and acceptance in part.

when she would be asleep beside you most nights in the years after, you would often sneak out and, in the quite space between your balcony and the rooftop of the building, tell yourself that you would have done the same thing over if you were placed in the situation again.

natasha liked to think of herself as cold, her personality and actions as impersonal as things got. she was never sure she was doing right by you, or able to comfort you as much as you comfort her. but clearly, she was quite the opposite.

most nights when you came back after your hours alone, pondering over the day of the incident over and over again, you would look at her sleeping figure on your shared bed, and think to yourself how no one was able to know you the way she knew you. no one came close.

she was your sanctuary as much as you were hers.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

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alwaysshallow · 1 day

Text

single mom x price; PART 4

you try to stay away from john. and, surprisingly so, it turns out that it's not an easy job.

AO3 VERSION

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

You know that you usually keep your promises.

When Janice had to leave for a week and asked you to water her flowers religiously three times a day, you didn’t skip any watering. You stood there, cursed multiple times under your breath with a more or less excited kid on your hip, but you did it. Even if your son was a pain in the ass and tried to destroy every little plant that Janice had because watering three times a day was stupid for him.

When Cassie’s mom came to you, telling you she’s pregnant, scared of having kids in her forties, you were the one that drove her to the abortion clinic and promised not to tell anyone. Because she was terrified of doing this alone, not to mention asking someone else.

Information like this in a small town spreads like weeds in the garden, no matter how hard you try, and you knew it too well. So, as her best pick, you tried to take it like a hero.

And you didn’t even flinch when you heard that they thought you were the one that got rid of the baby, not her. You just stared blankly, acting as calm as ever, even if their stares were too much to bear when you shopped, talked with others. Easy enough, they watched you like hawks.

Eventually, it all calmed down, like the weather after the storm. Everyone started living their own lives again, got invested into another drama, forgetting the situation with abortion clinic. And, Cassie’s mom was eternally grateful for that. Probably still is.

You’re known for keeping your promises and getting the job done, so you really can’t be surprised when the neighbors choose you to be responsible for this year’s neighbors BBQ, something that this town is obsessed with, when it gets warmer. Can’t really blame them, as the town is dead during the winter months.

What is surprising in this situation is the fact that you have to break a promise—but the promise that you made to yourself.

Just because you’re in a committee with John Price. John Price that you wanted to desperately avoid for some time, but right now, he’s looking down at you with a smile, patting your back with encouragement.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with this,” he murmurs, right to your ear. It’s nothing naughty, but it’s enough to make your whole body feel hot, like your body is full of lava. He knows you can’t say no to organizing this BBQ, and if you would, he’d find a way to get you back on board.

And, he for sure noticed that you spoke to him less lately. As you learned, he’s not really a fan of that behavior, so when you go home, you have only one thought in your mind: you’re terrible at keeping distance from John Price. It’s either a terrible coincidence, or he has the help of God to make you run into him every time.

Ironically, the second option sounds more real than the first one, even if it should be the other way.

Planning with him feels easy, though. He’s quick to make a whole concept of the party with you, where exactly the BBQ needs to take place, what can be brought so it will be better than the years before. He’s ambitious enough that he makes small jabs towards the neighbors that hosted years before, saying something about not having a sense of style and stuff that shouldn’t make you laugh, but they do.

When it comes to the practical stuff of the job, it’s a bit different; John doesn’t let you touch anything or lift something by yourself, god forbid you try to say that you’re going to help him with moving things. The irritation because of it is enough for you to try to confront him, but he just shushes you. He says something about having “the boys” for that, and you’re not invited to the physical part of the job.

However, you asking him for help? He seems to love the fact that you need him.

When you are trying out the recipes, he’s magically around you. Appears in the most random moments, just to annoy you a little, whisper some encouraging words, like “you got it, love”. He’s more than eager to try out the food, always licking the spoon clean with such focus, like it was a military job, not his neighbor asking him for his opinion on BBQ food. Not only it makes you satisfied, but flustered as well.

Whatever you want to say to him about it, you forget it right away. You’re far too gone in his praises, slight suggestions, and so much more that has you wondering if this man is just nice, or he really means it. Because you truly believe that he does; no one could fake the glimmer in their eyes, lips twitching in a playful manner and this damn look of approval, when you do the right thing. When you think about it, you could easily get used to it if it would mean he’d be around more.

Hell, you never liked cooking that much. It was mostly something to do, so you won’t starve. With John? With John it feels like you want him to admire your food, so you try as thrice as you did in the past.

What is also satisfying in this whole “planning” thing, you’re the commander if it comes down to decorations—you tell him if something needs to go to the left side, if it’s in the right place, or maybe it doesn’t fit the vibe at all. It's good fun for you, a lot of bickering with John, a lot of him actually respecting what you have to say. Sheer contrast to the contact that you normally had with other men, and the dad of your son. Constant problems, give me this, give me that, nothing really came from them. And if it did, you had to ask for it.

And John? John is just the epitome of a perfect man. The kind one that you like seeing on the street because he’s helpful and considerate. Always willing to help you, no matter what the hour is, or what the problem is, like—

Like a real husband, you think, trying to push that thought away the second you see that you’re losing yourself a little too much in it. Just because someone is nice to you, it doesn’t mean that they have a romantic interest in you.

John isn’t helpful with making your thoughts go away; he’s so close to you, like he doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. At some point, you think that he has to do this on purpose. It’s not possible that he’s like this with everyone—so touchy, manhandling every time someone stands in his way, whispering little “I need you to move,” before moving the person somewhere else. It’s unnecessary, you would move if he’d only ask you to do it, but…

But you’d lie if you’d say that you do not like this. Because you do, with all of your heart, even if normally you’d be irritated by behavior like this. But, this is John Price that you talk about. He’s so delicate in this, joking around so much that you don’t even pay attention to the amount of times that he does that.

The closeness doesn’t bother you; not until you realize that a bunch of people are observing you with sharp precision; they’re talking about something too, but it’s clear for you that they are watching the two of you. It’s even more obvious when they gasp right in the moment when John kisses you in the temple, squeezing your hip, silently thanking you for the help. Like you were doing it out of simple kindness, not because you two are responsible for it anyway.

“I’m gonna go,” you murmur under your breath, almost jogging to your house, just so no one will notice the flustered look on your face.

You’re not free of John here either; after an hour, he asks you over the text if you have a minute because he has a sudden epiphany. So, like a good neighbor you are, you stay on the phone with him for another hour, when he tells you how a “kids friendly” zone is needed. Because some parents don’t have a nanny or anyone to leave their kid with; and it seems reasonable.

He makes a monologue about inflatable castles, houses, everything that excites kids.

“I already have a guy to buy it from. I just need your word,” he says. You can almost hear how he smiles on the other side from his tone. “So, what do you say?”

So, even if it seems a bit fancy for your town, you agree, thinking it would be his way of saying a proper “hello” to the neighbors. You even regret that your kid is currently at his grandma's place, as you dropped him a few days before the preparations, because he’d love this idea. More than anything.

Yet, you bet that with John being here, in your neighborhood, he’ll have multiple occasions to do fun things.

The day you have to host BBQ, Price is here for you from the early morning. Making final touches, speaking like a motivational coach because he sees how big of a mess you are; he even helps you to do your hair before you two go outside and start everything properly.

You’re the equivalent of a stress ball, when he’s literally the calmest person alive in the same moment. Water to your fire, easing your nerves in the moments that you’d consider as trivial, extinguishing the heat when you need it. Making you actually feel seen with your feelings, with how he acknowledges them and treats you the best he can in the moment. You feel less dumb for being so nervous, and automatically you feel better as well.

Hours feel like minutes by his side. You greet your neighbors, make small talks about food or their families, asking how they are; you can easily leave any negative thoughts behind you, without caring about your emotions before the BBQ. All you care about is right now, and how John is literally around you at every moment possible—because this man does not leave your side, even if you’re talking with someone that he doesn’t know personally.

“Oh, she’s responsible for all of it,” he says, grinning like a devil, when you talk with the Smiths about the preparations. It’s so easy for him to sneak an arm around you, and you can’t even find in yourself the want to push him away. “I was just Santa’s little helper, ‘s all.”

“Stop that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He was very helpful, actually. I wouldn’t know what to do without his help.”

“Only on her command.” John shrugs, looking down at you. For some reason, you feel your stomach tightening on the size difference that you two have. “Without her, it probably would look like a brothel. Maybe worse, so she is the real brain of the operation.”

He’s like that all night. Praising you, even if he’s not directly speaking next to you; him pointing a finger in your direction, sending a wink, it all makes you feel like you suddenly have your wings again. Like you can actually do anything with him by your side. He charges your batteries, and you’re thankful for that.

What also charges your batteries is alcohol—normally you wouldn’t be a drinker because of your son, but when you know he’s in your mother’s house, it’s a different situation. Drink goes after a drink when you have lots of food, shots come down your throat way easier with your favorite neighbors. It’s easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere of freedom, when you haven’t had that in a while, too busy, too focused on your son.

Just like you thought, you have your wings again.

You don’t even feel like you’ve gone too far. Not when John accompanies you in the experience, asking if you need another beer, so casually, nudging you with his elbow. Taunting, like he wants to say that you won’t do it anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t, if you weren’t so drunk, but now, when there’s not a single coherent thought in your mind…

Things start to get fuzzy after that beer. You don’t even know when you put the alcohol away in order to dance with Price; you don’t know when his casual touches become something entirely different. It feels like he’s trying to help you, support you, as your legs start to feel more wobbly, but when his hand lands lower, fingers play with the material of your dress—a dress that right now seems like something you’d rather get rid of in the heat of the moment—you feel that something else is in the air.

The “don’t do anything stupid” side is flooded by waves of excitement, by the thought that you feel like you deserve a bit of fun after so many times you told yourself “no”. Maybe that’s why you agree to him walking you to your house, maybe that’s why you invite him over for a little “drink”, to end the success of the neighborhood BBQ that you two “hosted”.

Even if you have enough drinks for a few months, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You really had everything innocent in mind about this. You even came up with the speech about how late it is in your head, but the brakes fail you just in the moment when you stand right in front of him. It’s all happening in slow motion, like a catastrophe that was supposed to happen and everyone knew it from the beginning—but that catastrophe is you kissing him.

He doesn’t say anything, at first. The potential consequences of your actions dawn at you, making you sober up almost immediately, when you see his face. Darkening with every second, making you doubt what you did. Because if it was good, why is he like this?

“I’m so—”

“—Don’t even try.”

And that’s all what he says before kissing you. Kissing you so deep that you forget to breathe for a second, and you just stand still, letting him pick you up like a doll and go upstairs because what can you do about this?

He doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. His lips are everywhere, just like his hands, when he finds the bedroom—you’re already out of your dress and lingerie, but he is fully dressed. You almost want to complain, have a protest that it’s not right, as you waited maybe even more than him for this exact moment, but any word that wants to come out from your mouth is gone when he sinks his finger into you.

It’s slow, at first. Deliberate, making you feel like he’s trying to know you before he does anything more, before he loses himself in you—because that, oh, that happens fast. Faster than you’d thought it would take, but you do not mind that; not in the moment when his two fingers pump into you, while his thumb is taking care of your clit.

The moment his tongue replaces his thumb though, this is the moment when you see stars and all the restraints you had, completely break under the influence of his movement. He knows what he does, how to make you scream, and how to make you beg—because that’s what you want to do, when he suddenly stops.

"John—”

He chuckles, amused. His eyes are glimmering, when he meets yours. "Patience, honey. Patience."

And when you finally come with his name on your lips, you know you have it.

He gives you maybe a fifteen second break—it’s enough for him to strip out of his clothes and pounce at you again; it makes you realize that is the main course you needed from him.

It’s far from casual sex, far from the scenario that you’ve created in your mind. It’s something deeper, as he intertwines fingers with you, insisting that’s the only way you’re gonna do it; and he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Before you can ask any question, he shushes you with a heated kiss, his hips moving, but at a much slower pace than you expected, like he’s trying to devour the moment. Enjoy it until it lasts, maybe show you something so you’ll miss him in the future.

It’s almost like he wants to prove something here and you let him do it. Because for the first time, it’s nice having someone to take the initiative. Lead you, lure you into the mindset that you need him for that piece of heaven he’s busy to give you. Fixated on that, you plant bloody crescents on his back, not caring about the outcome.

It’s just you and him, at this point. You and him, no one else really matters.

Afterwards, you pay no attention to the fact that he insists on staying. He, in fact, doesn’t say anything; he just states a fact when he puts his big arm around you, squeezing you tight and you just know he won’t leave. You think it’s only right—he’s drunk, after all. It wouldn’t be very neighborly to you to ask him to leave in that state, even if he lives right across the street. And, it wouldn’t be very neighborly to ask him that, considering that he fucked the shit out of you.

Because he'll probably leave in the morning anyway. Everyone leaves before the sunlight, it’s just the way the world is. It was nothing… serious, right?

But, he doesn’t. Oh, of course he doesn’t.

He brings you coffee in the morning, right to your bed, sandwiches on the plate. You can’t quite put it when he had the time to make it, or when he got up—because you’d normally sense someone walking around your house, you’re used to being on high alert. Yet, there is John Price, smiling from ear to ear.

“Your mother called,” John says, which causes your heart to drop immediately. “Said that she’ll drop your son later.”

“...and what did you say?”

“That I’ll tell you this, as soon as you’ll wake up,” he informs you, kissing the top of your head. Like it’s nothing, he sits next to you, pulling out his phone and typing something; as you peek, you can see the news website popping up.

Great. Now even your mother knows about him. It’s not like he is that important right now, but you know your mom a little too well, so it’s easy for you to assume that she’ll make a big thing about him and you’ll have to tell her something to blow her off. And, for now, you’re out of ideas of what exactly you should tell her.

Something other than “it was just casual sex because he’s my hot neighbor”, something other than “I actually don’t know him that well”. Words are spinning in your head; a massive hangover doesn’t help to form anything, so you just nod in acknowledgement, watching him for a moment, bewildered. He acts like he owns this bed, and doesn’t even think of leaving. It’s a potential threat, when you think about it.

You’re not even surprised when you see text from your mother on your phone.

You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.

You decide it’s best not to reply to that, so you just grab the cup of coffee that John made you.

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