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#I *do* not believe they were not thinking of things other than hand to hand combat when this happened
ktgoodmorning · 2 days
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"I'm scared"
Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 3 of that awkward smile but also can stand on it's own in my opinion, just kinda in that same universe.
You get injured during the chelsea match and Alexia steps up to comfort you
I Part 1 I Part 2 I
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To say you were stressed about the upcoming Chelsea match would have been an understatement. Champions league matches always held more weight to them so you’d always be the first to put an immense amount of pressure on yourself. You were similar to Alexia in that way, always expecting the absolute best from yourself and willing to push yourself to any length necessary to get there, no matter what it took. 
But you were ready. That’s what everyone told you. Barça was incredible and you all knew exactly what you needed to do. You had trained for this and knew how to handle the pressure. 
You did all your pre game rituals, even getting a quick kiss on the forehead from Alexia once the others had left the locker room. They still had no idea the two of you had gotten back together and at the moment you wanted to keep it that way, knowing Mapi would be fiercely protective over both of you, scared to see her best friends hurt each other once again. 
Before you knew it, you were lined up in the tunnel, ready to take the pitch. Mapi was working her way through everyone, giving plenty of pep talks and words of wisdom asshe did so, being sure to make a long stop in front of you.
You were a center back, working hard to fill her shoes in her absence and trying your absolute best. Everyone knew it was a difficult job but you continued to improve and put in the extra hours to make sure you could make her proud. She was always sure to give you some extra advice and hype you up to make sure you knew that she believed in you. You had known Mapi for most of your life and as much as you’d never admit it, her faith in you worked wonders for your confidence and skills on the field. Especially with you still settling in at Barcelona, knowing that she trusted you in her absence made you step up to the plate in a way you hadn’t been able to before. 
As she approached you, Mapi took both your hands in hers, looking at you with a rare sense of seriousness that she often didn’t show. “You’re ready for this, amiga. Just do what you do best, quit thinking about anything else, just go play and be the footballer that you are.” She gave you a short nod which you returned to her before pulling her in for a short hug. Soon afterwards, you were being led onto the pitch for the game to begin. 
As the game got started, you settled into a pace that was much faster than most of the games you were used to. There was much more back and forth, more speed, and more physicality than you normally played with, both teams hungry for a win which only heightened the intensity further.
It was around the 60th minute when a Chelsea player sent a long ball down the field in your direction, hoping to reach Mayra Ramirez. You, being the closest to her, took off running towards her the second the ball started your way, pushing yourself to catch up with her and using your speed to your advantage. You were able to reach the ball just as it was about to arrive at its intended target, immediately jumping up in an attempt to head it away before Mayra could take control of it. 
However just as your feet left the ground, you felt a mind-numbing crack to your temple, clearly coming into contact with something that wasn’t the ball, before immediately collapsing onto the pitch. What you didn’t realize when you tried to take the header, was how close you were to the opposing player who, like you, was jumping up in hopes of getting control over the ball, leading to her head smashing into the side of yours. 
You had little to no awareness of the things going on around you as you layed there, curled in a ball, groaning in pain, wishing you didn’t exist. Pain was shooting through your skull with an intensity that made it hard to even pinpoint its origin. All you knew was that it hurt. 
Everything hurt. The sunlight in your eyes hurt, making you keep them squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Squeezing your eyes shut caused pain too, but not quite as bad as if you had opened them. You didn’t even have the energy or mental capacity to fully react to the amount of pain you were feeling at that moment, just bringing your hands up to your face as if they would somehow shield you from the pain you were feeling, exhausted, tears unknowingly running down your face. 
 Game play stopped almost immediately as you and Mayra had both hit the ground hard, her seeming to be in better shape than you currently were. The second she saw your heads make contact, Alexia felt like her whole world came to a screeching halt. It did. You were her world. You had slowly become ingrained in everything she did as over the last couple months you had been together and now here you were, curled up motionless on the grass. 
She didn’t even realize it but the blonde had begun sprinting towards you the second you went down, not even waiting for the whistle or giving it a second thought. It was automatic for her, the need to protect you outweighing everything else. 
Normally if a teammate went down, Alexia would be the one to argue with the referee about whatever had happened and allow someone else to go comfort the injured player. It’s not like the captain had a reputation for being warm and fuzzy and good with handling people’s emotions. She’d leave that to the others so she could be the stone faced captain she preferred being. But not with you. You were different. 
Alexia was by your side in an instant, suddenly no longer caring who knew about your relationship. Keeping things a secret wasn’t even a thought that crossed her mind as she slid to her knees next to you, instantly grabbing your hand in an attempt to provide you some comfort until the medical staff could reach you. Her hands shook as she brushed some hair off your face and wiped your tears, genuinely terrified of what was going on with you. The blank stare in your eyes, paired with your silence and lack of reaction was eerie to say the least. 
“You’ll be okay, amor, I’ve got you. The physios are almost here.” It’s like time was moving in slow motion, feeling like they were taking forever even though they were just as prompt as they always were. Your girlfriend’s words were almost more for herself than they were for you. The way you still were yet to react, didn’t call for words of comfort, however she needed to say it out loud, just to hear it for herself. You would be okay. You had to be. She was thinking so many things at once that she couldn’t fully process it all, just fully in survival mode on your behalf. 
When the physios reached your side, Alexia moved over to give them some space, still refusing to let go of your hand as they did so. She didn’t notice, but plenty of teammates had given her some weird looks, confused by her sudden concern over you and the way she was expressing it so openly. The look of fear in her eyes was new to everyone, even those she had known her entire life. Nobody had seen the captain looking so unsure of things when she was on the football pitch, normally that was the place where she came across as the most confident no matter what was going on. 
The physios did their job, asking you a million questions and trying to examine you as best they could in your current state. Alexia could hardly pay attention to anything they said, far too caught up in her thoughts about what could be going on with you. 
You were hardly answering any of the questions, just mumbling soft responses here and there, struggling to focus on their words. Because of your continued lack of coherency, the medical staff decided to stretcher you off- something that didn’t help Alexia’s mental state, doing her best to hide the tears that were welling up in her own eyes. She was still yet to let go of your hand, squeezing it tightly as if her hold on your hand alone could keep you safe as she helplessly watched the medical staff load you onto the stretcher.
The blonde stayed by your side as the staff wheeled you off, only stopping when they reached the sideline where Mapi had come down from the stands to wait for you to take Alexia’s place by your side. Alexia knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to come off yet. It was the Champion’s League and everyone knew there wasn’t the wiggle room to mess with the subs more than absolutely necessary. As much as it killed her to see you go without her, she knew she didn’t have another option and at the very least, she was grateful to know Mapi would be by your side the whole time. 
When they paused at the sidelines with you, Alexia took the opportunity to give your hand a tight squeeze before bringing it to her lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “You’ll be okay amor, I’ll see you as soon as this is over. I love you, okay?” She didn’t expect a response given your current state but appreciated the weak attempt at returning a squeeze of the hand to her. Mapi froze for a second, giving her a look of confusion over what she had just seen from her best friend before giving the captain a reassuring pat on the shoulder and taking Alexia’s spot by your side. 
Everything after that was a blur for you, only knowing that the medical staff were busy performing tests on you, doing what they could to make sure you were okay. You became more and more aware of your surroundings as they did so, feeling the shock of the incident slowly starting to wear off. They decided you wouldn’t need to go to the hospital and that it appeared to be a grade two concussion, paired with the sudden shock of the injury. While you’d still spend longer than you’d like on the sidelines, it was a much better outcome than anyone was expecting given the state you had been in when it happened. 
Once the physios had finished their tests, they gave you some medication for the pain and let you doze off on one of the treatment tables, snuggled into Mapi’s side while the game ended. The second the final whistle blew, Alexia was sprinting off the pitch with the sole intention of finding you, ignoring any other responsibilities that might have been awaiting her. 
She burst through the door to the training room, expecting to be told that they took you to the hospital, stopping herself only when she saw you sleeping peacefully against Mapi. For the first time since you went down, the blonde was able to take a deep breath and calm down now that she had seen you looking relatively okay. 
“Ssshhh, Ale, she’s asleep. But she’s okay. Grade two concussion, and plenty of shock but she’ll be okay, that’s all it is.” 
“Gracias a Dios,” Alexia’s shoulders visibility relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh, having assumed the absolute worst for the last half hour. 
“What’s going on between you two? Are you back together or something? Cause I really don’t think-” 
“Si, Mapi,” The blonde rolled her eyes at Mapi’s reaction, knowing it was exactly what had prevented you from telling her earlier. “I know you’re worried about her but I promise it’s different this time. We’re both in a completely different place now, and we’ve talked about it a lot, and it’s going amazing, Mapi. I promise you. I will not do anything to hurt her.” 
“You better not, juro por Dios. I’m so serious, Alexia, if you do anything-”
“I won’t! I swear, Mapi. I could never do that to her again. It kills me that I even did it the first time. This time is completely different, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.” 
The defender only responded with a very pointed look, clearly not too pleased with the current situation. It didn’t help matters that you were still passed out against her, unable to help your girlfriend reassure her that things were going well between you. 
Not wanting to discuss it any further, Mapi slid out from underneath you, carefully allowing Alexia to slide into her place. It was clear you knew who it was, snuggling into her further and grabbing the top of her kit tightly to make sure she couldn’t leave. It didn’t matter to you that she was drenched in sweat and smelling rough, you just needed her close to you, even if you weren’t awake enough to consciously decide that. 
Alexia took your movement as an opportunity to wake you up, gently rubbing your shoulder, and speaking softly as she did so. “Hola, amor. I think we should get you home so you can keep sleeping there, get you more comfortable. Si? You’ll stay at mine so I can make sure you’re okay.”
You nodded weakly, mumbling a somewhat incoherent agreement. The idea of going home with her sounded great but the idea of moving sounded like the worst thing you could imagine at the moment. 
She smiled softly at your reaction, knowing that there were few things you loved more than cuddling and that she knew she would have a hard time getting you to agree to get up right now. “You’re so cute when you’re tired and barely making sense, amor. I’ll carry you if you want.” 
She sat up further in an attempt to encourage you to join her, hoping to get a better idea of how you were feeling, but wasn’t expecting to see tears pooling in your eyes as soon as she did so. “Ale, I feel horrible.” Your voice was wobbly as you tried to hold in your emotions, suddenly overcome with pain in your head once again. 
“I know sweetheart, I know. I’ve got you though, okay? I’ve just gotta get you home and then I’ll take good care of you and let you rest more. Is that alright?” 
You nodded, looking and feeling more broken than you ever had before. “Could I please just hug you, first? Then we can go.” 
Your words made her melt, suddenly aware of how much you needed her support right now, allowing you to collapse into her arms. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll be alright, mi amor, you’ll be alright.” She rocked you gently in a way that almost seemed to dull the pain you were feeling. This moment in her arms was the best you had felt since you hit the ground, and it did more than you ever could’ve guessed. Something about being in her arms seemed to work better than any prescription ever could.
When you pulled away from her, she gently wiped away your tears, once again pushing your hair back away from your face. “I’ll see if Mapi can grab our stuff and then we’ll meet her at the car okay? Do you want a sweatshirt or anything?” You were both in your kits still and Alexia knew you enough to know that you always ran cold and preferred being snuggled up in a big sweatshirt. Your only response  was a pouty face, sticking your bottom lip out at her with your best puppy dog eyes as she gave you a smile and shake of her head in return. Of course Alexia knew exactly what you were implying with that face. It was your subtle (or not so subtle) way of requesting a sweatshirt of hers instead of your own. “I’ll get you a sweatshirt and let Mapi know that we’re ready to leave. Then I’ll come get you. Okay?” You nodded at her which she acknowledged with a quick peck on the lips before leaving the room, giving you the opportunity to lay down for a few more minutes while you waited. 
You must have slightly dozed off by the time Alexia returned to you because you awoke to the sound of the door opening once again. “Feeling any better?” 
You squinted slightly, trying to let your head adjust to the lights in the room. “Ale, you were gone for like five minutes, why would I feel any different?” The words carried more attitude than you intended, too far distracted by the pounding in your skull, but your girlfriend seemed to be unphased, just shrugging off your words before helping pull her sweatshirt on over your head. 
Once you seemed to be more comfortable, she turned so her back was facing you, bending down slightly so you could climb on, piggy-back style. “Hop on, I’ll carry you to the car, amor.” So you did just that, climbing on and then burying your face into the side of her neck, partially to block out some of the light, partially because you just wanted to be as close as possible. 
When you reached her car, she gently set you down on the passenger seat, making sure you were comfortable and buckled before leaving a kiss on the top of your head to go to the driver’s side. As soon as she sat down, she reached to hold your hand, giving it yet another reassuring squeeze. Although the silence between you provided some relief from the pounding in your head, It also sent you into a spiral of anxiety thinking about what this concussion might mean for you. 
Alexia quickly noticed your change in demeanor as she drove and how you went from mostly asleep in a comfortable silence to staring into space, clearly filled with tension. The fact that you were suddenly more awake was her biggest red flag given that you had been in and out the entire time she’d seen you. The panicked Alexia that had appeared when you first went down seemed to be back and filled with concern over you once again. “Hey, are you okay? Is something worse with your head, amor? What’s wrong? Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over if you want?” 
“I don’t know, I’m just scared I guess.” You gave her a grim shrug that did little to calm her nerves, still looking at you expectantly, trying to figure out how to help. 
“Scared of what? You’ll be okay, they said most of your symptoms should be getting better already in a few days.”
“Not about that, Ale.”
“Then what…” the blonde trailed off, clearly confused as to what you were saying. 
When she seemed to not be catching on, you let out a sigh, dreading saying the words that had come to mind. “It’s just that last time we dated, injuries are part of what tore us apart. We couldn’t deal with the stress of them. I’m just scared that that might happen again.” You paused, trying to put your thoughts into words, “I can’t lose you again, Alexia. So I don’t know if I should stay with you and I don’t know if we should do this, because I don’t think I can handle that again.” Your voice cracked as you went silent once again, both of you simmering in what was just said. By the time you finished speaking she had pulled into the driveway so she could now turn to face you, cradling the side of your head in her hand. The warmth of her large hand provided you comfort as you leaned into her touch, letting her support your head even more.
“Amor. I know it’s scary, I do. But I never plan on letting you go. Not ever. I promised Mapi that while you were passed out earlier and I’ll promise you that. We talked about this, we were both different people then. We are both more mature, stronger, kinder, smarter, and better. This is not the same.” You finally looked up to meet her eyes for the first time that night. “And I think you know that, amor. I love you, so, so, so, much. It’s okay to be scared, I’ll carry enough faith in us for the two of us. But at the end of the day, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. There’s a reason we got back together, si?” 
It was rare that you saw Alexia get so sentimental and emotional but something about you seemed to bring out that side of her. “Gracias, Ale,” she leaned forward to give you a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously.” She interrupted you with more kisses in an attempt to pull your mind away from your anxieties and back to the present. 
When she pulled away, Alexia was relieved by the small smile that had appeared on your face, the first she’d seen since before the game today. “Now let’s go inside, we can take a bath and get you some comfier clothes, and get you all snuggled up to go to bed. I’ll hold you as much as you want, I won’t go anywhere.” 
You gave her a small nod, before slowly leaving the car and following her inside, ready for a night with Alexia all to yourself and ready to take care of you. Your head still hurt, but if there was one thing that could make it feel better, you knew it would be your girlfriend and the hardcore pain meds you’d been given.
might end up doing one more for this but we'll see :)
Requests are always open
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moodriingz · 2 days
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Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes
Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 
Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx
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“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 
Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 
Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 
A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.
“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.
“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.
“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.
“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.
“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.
“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”
“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.
“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.
“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”
“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.
The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.
“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.
“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.
“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.
“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”
“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.
“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.
Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.
“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 
You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.
You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 
Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.
“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.
Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.
“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.
“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.
“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”
“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”
“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 
“No he’s not, why would you say that?”
“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 
You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.
You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.
He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.
“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.
“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.
“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.
“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 
The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.
Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.
“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”
When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.
“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.
“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.
“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.
“You what? You move fast, man.”
“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”
“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”
The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 
Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.
“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”
“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.
“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.
“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”
“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 
You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.
“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.
“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 
“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.
“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.
“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.
“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”
“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.
You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 
Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.
“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.
“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.
“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”
“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.
You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.
Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 
“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.
“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.
Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.
You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 
Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.
There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.
Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.
Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.
“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.
“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”
“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.
“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.
Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.
Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 
Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 
He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.
“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.
“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.
“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.
“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.
“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.
“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.
You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 
Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.
“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.
“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.
“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.
The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.
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autumnywinter · 1 day
Note
Hiii! <3 Could you perhaps write something with Reader cheating on yandere Jingyuan?
I hope this isn't ooc! I love writing for HSR characters but I don't do it often.
Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader
Tags: NSFW MDNI, cheating, spanking, patronizing behavior, light degradation, sex as punishment, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping
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You couldn't deny you felt shame. Jing Yuan was so sweet, so doting, but he could get so busy sometimes. You loved him, you truly did, but occasionally, it was too tempting to not hook up with someone else. Just a fling, that's all you wanted. Only enough attention to make up for the lack of his while he was on duty. You didn't expect anyone to get murdered over it.
Things were supposed to go out smoothly. Your husband would be gone for the weekend, so you'd have a one-night stand and sneak back home at midnight. You didn't bother hiding the hickeys since you didn't think he'd be home.
However...
"Welcome home, dear. Did you have fun?"
He was there when you walked in. He was lounging on the sofa, eyeing you as you came in, his figure relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. There was no anger on his face. On the contrary, he smiled and looked more content than he had been in a while. But you could see it.
The glimmer in his eyes, the dangerous red that clouded his pupils. He wasn't angry. He was furious.
You flinched, wanting to shrink away into your coat. How were you supposed to explain this? "I..." Your voice came out in a rasp, throat dry and tight. You swallowed down your fear and tried again. "Yes... I did."
Part of you was still foolishly hoping he didn't know about your disloyalty, that you were overthinking his mannerisms.
Perhaps he just happened to be home early because he wanted to see you, and not because he rightfully suspected anything. Maybe you could still cover this up.
He rose from his seat and came towards you. "Did you now?" His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hands shook as they hung by your sides. "Would you like to know what I did, honey?"
It wasn't a question. He didn't care if you did or didn't want to know. He was going to tell you anyway.
His face pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent, humming against your skin. "I followed you." His lips peppered your neck with kisses as his grip tightened. "I have lots of friends in the knights that patrol the area frequently. Imagine my heartbreak when I hear my darling spouse has been sneaking around. I didn't want to believe it, so I had to see for myself."
You trembled in his hold, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jing Yuan's tone was frighteningly even, but that only scared you more. You could feel him smiling against your skin. Forced and cold.
"When I saw you enter that man's house, I thought to myself: No, there must be an explanation for this. There's no way you would do such a thing." The more he talked, the more painful his grasp got. His nails dug into your side, threatening to puncture your skin. "So I waited outside for a while and sure enough, you came out a mess." His gaze became more narrowed, trailing down to the angry hickeys covering your skin.
"You stunk of alcohol and sweat, with all these nasty marks all over you. Even on your collarbone. Absolutely shameful."
You winced. "I'm sorry-"
"Shh." Jing Yuan's lips covered your own in a deep kiss that tasted of wine. "You were lonely without me, right? You wanted attention. I understand. There's no need to apologize. I know I haven't been paying much attention to you, so it's natural for you to look elsewhere."
Despite his understanding words, you felt trapped. Jing Yuan kissed you again and again, tongue swiping against your lips. You didn't have a choice but to open your mouth and let him in, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.
He usually took his sweet time tasting you, but this time, he was impatient and sloppy. You could only grip his arms, whimpering as he poured all of his pent-up anger into the kiss.
When he pulled away, your knees threatened to give out on you. His mouth remained close, the warmth of his breath grazing your lips.
"You'll just have to make it up to me." His hand slithered under your coat and slid it off, his fingers stroking the marks on your shoulders. "These look painful. I never knew you liked pain. But I guess I never knew you were a whore, either."
His words pierced you like daggers, tears spilling from your eyes as you choked back a sob. Jing Yuan's cold eyes softened at the sight, cooing at you.
"Don't cry, sweetheart. It hurts me too when you cheat." His fingers stroked your cheek, catching some of your tears and licking them off his fingers. "I'll take care of you now, okay? Let me be your husband again." He guided you into the bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck all of him out of you, so when I'm done, you'll only remember me. And all the other men you've seen."
Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled down your pants. You squealed as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red mark that would surely bruise later.
His palm was ice cold on your hot skin, soothing the sting from the impact.
"I want to forgive you, but I'm not going to lie to myself. You hurt me. I'd never hurt you like that." He paused, feeling between your legs. "And now you're getting aroused by this? Maybe I really have been neglecting you." He stood up to unbuckle his belt. "Let me remind you what sex feels like with someone who loves you."
You glanced back at him over your shoulder, watching him stroke himself. He looked down at you, an unsettling smile on his face.
"You know I love you, right?"
Jing Yuan climbed onto the bed, fingers tracing up your leg before pressing into your entrance. You whimpered as he eased them inside, not used to being stretched so suddenly. But he didn't care.
He thrust his fingers in and out of you, moving his fingers in scissoring motions to spread you more. You couldn't stop squirming beneath him, struggling to adjust to his pace.
"Answer me," he demanded. His fingers curled inside you.
"I do! I-I do!"
He hummed and removed his fingers, staring down at his hand covered in your wetness. He admired the way his wedding ring glistened in the low lighting, but not for long.
His gaze lowered to your reddened, flustered face, making his cock twitch.
"Good. Because I really do love you." He lifted your hips up, guiding the tip of his cock to your hole. He pushed into you and watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate moans falling from your lips. Your walls wrapped around him, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck you.
So he did.
His hips snapped against yours at a rough pace, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. But the way you cried his name was the best song to his ears.
If he weren't mad with jealousy and frustration, he would've taken a few seconds to grab his phone to record. But he needed to chase the image of that man out of your mind first.
He reached around you and started rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, grunting against your skin. His touch sent you spiraling into an orgasm, juices gushing all over his cock.
Your tightening walls drove him towards his climax as well, and he came inside of you with a satisfied groan.
Your eyes were blown wide as you felt his cum fill you up. Jing Yuan panted above you, not having the energy to pull out yet. After a few seconds, he did, watching his seed spill out of you. His hips gave a few lazy thrusts into you as if trying to push it in deeper.
"You took me so well, sweetheart." He laid down next to you, bringing your shaking body close.
"Are you still mad at me?" You breathed in his scent.
He chuckled. "I'm no longer mad. In fact, I'm happy. You just confirmed my suspicions that you can't be trusted on your own."
You didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"
He brought a hand to your neck, stroking the skin there. "You have a wild spirit. So it's only natural that I'd need to watch over you closely, right? So you don't wander off again. How can you cheat on me if I'm the only person you see?" He ignored your frightened expression and snuggled you close to him. "This is for the best. Everything I do is for you, Y/n."
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sickslimez · 2 days
Text
HOLE IN THE WALL! — NANAMI KENTO
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SYNOPSIS...as an overworked and stressed employee, you find relief in giving blowjobs to complete strangers at an adult store
INFO...nanami x fem!reader, oral (m!receiving), jerking off, nipple play, tit job, pussy job, cum eating, praise, a little twist at the end, not proofread (as usual)
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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had to repost this bc tumblr took it down for whatever reason even though I have things more explicit than this on my other blog lmao
Working at an office where you were constantly hassled for your deadlines always put a lot of unwanted stress on your shoulders. Higher ups yapping in your ear about something you’ve been told one hundred times before and your fingers are typing as fast as they can on the computer. It was a complete and utter shit show, a waste of your precious time. But you have one little secret no one knows about, you volunteer at a glory hole every now and then when you feel too worked up.
After a long week of staring at a computer screen and boring meetings, you walking to the adult store, greeting the worker who already knew what you were there for. All you needed to relax was to watch random strangers cum from your touch. Believe it or not, it brought you joy hearing their moans on the other side of the thin wall. Maybe you chose the wrong profession.
As you entered the room, you let out a sigh, locking the door behind you. You slipped your coat off, and placed your bag down on the chair. Despite what others might think, the room was always clean. It wasn’t a random glory hole you’d find in a public bathroom or a shack in the middle of the woods. You unbuttoned your shirt, letting your tits breathe as you finally were able to relax and wait for the first person to come in.
You perked up at the sound of the door to the other room opening and closing shut. He let out a loud sigh, the sound of his pants being unbuckled making you excited. “Just make me cum, I’ve had a long fucking day,” he grunted. You looked down at the hole, the man placing his semi hard cock through it.
“You and me both, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good.” Your hand glided up and down his shaft, slowly stroking him, feeling him grow harder in your hand. You stared at his cock with a smile, his swollen tip flushed a dark pink, prominent veins running on the underside of it. Whoever this man was, he sure had a pretty cock. “You’re so big,” you giggle. Your hand barely able to fully wrap around.
Delicate fingers traced the prominent veins, teasing the underside of his dick before your thumb rubbed over his swollen tip. You felt him throb in your hand, a bead of pre cum forming at his tip, a smile tugging at your lips. The stranger was fully hard, dick long and pretty. You continued rubbing your thumb over his tip, sticking out your tongue to give him kitten licks, tasting his pre cum. You heard the man shudder, a breathy gasp leaving his throat. “Oh, you’re so sensitive!” You gasped, now slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, moving from base to tip.
You moaned in satisfaction, lip tucked between your teeth as you jerked the stranger off, your free hand cupping your tits as you started to feel turned on by the sight in front of you. “Oh, fuck,” he let out breathy moan. More pre cum began leaking from his tip, allowing you to use it as lubricant to jerk him off easier. Your wrist moved in circular motions, squeezing gently the closer your got towards his sensitive head. “Shit, sweetheart! You really know what you’re doing, huh?” A moan could be heard from the other side of the wall.
Your hand pumped him faster, squeezing tighter around his shaft. “You better not cum yet!” You smiled as if he could see you, but you were taking joy in hearing him in pleasure. Opening your mouth, you stuck out your tongue and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while simultaneously moving your hand. You pinched your nipple, moaning around his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.
“Oh, baby, your tongue feels so good! Let me feel that throat,” he whimpered, bucking his hips against the wall, trying so desperately to fuck your face. You removed your hand from around his cock, allowing him to fuck your face. Glug, glug, glug. “There we fucking go, atta girl!” He moaned loudly. As you sat there and let him use your throat, you couldn’t help but think at how familiar the man sounded, though you couldn’t remember from where. But it was the least of you worries, you were only thinking about making him cum.
You pulled your head away, trying to catch your breath as drool coated your chin. You lazily smiled to yourself, wrapping your hand around his shaft again and slowly jerked him off. You positioned yourself to where your tits were close to his dick, rubbing his tip over your hard nipples. “Mmm, feels so good.” Your brows furrow in pleasure.
“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, sweetheart. God, I wish I could see your pretty face right now,” he grunted. You smiled at his words, continuing you give him a tit job before spitting on his cock again. You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, taking him in your mouth slowly, allowing him to stretch your throat. You gagged on it, tears forming in your eyes before clenching them shut. Mascara ran down your cheeks as you began moving your head up and down, more spit coating his cock and falling on your chest. Your hands messily spread the spit over your tits, teasing your sensitive nipples. “Wanna cum all over your face—mmm, fuck me!” He groaned.
You pulled away again, taking a deep breath. You grinned when his cock twitched, a small giggle erupting from your chest. “You’re so close to cumming! I love it. Do I make you feel good, huh?” You cooed, dragging your fingers over his head. His cock looked even prettier dripping with your saliva.
“Can I feel your pussy? Please, sweetheart? I need it so bad,” he begged. You sat there on your knees, processing the words he said. You usually never let anyone fuck you at these glory holes, but you could think of the next best thing.
“How about a pussy job? Would you like that, baby?” You questioned, waiting for his answer while you slipped your soaked panties off. You dipped your fingers in between your folds, letting out a small gasp from how wet you were. “You got me so wet.” You slapped your pussy a few times, a lewd wet sound filling the room. “Hear that?”
“Goddamn you.” His cock twitched just from hearing how wet you were. “Let me feel her, please—fuckkk me,” he breathily said once he felt your hand grip his cock and rub his tip over your sopping slit.
You were bet over, using the chair as support while the other reached over and guided his cock along your pussy, his head rubbing between your folds and nudging your puffy clit. Your jaw went slack, eyes fluttering shut. Moans could be heard on either side of the wall. He desperately wanted to shove himself inside your gummy walls and fuck you until you passed out. “Cum all over my pussy, I know you want to.”
“Fuck, fuck, shit,” he grunted. “I’m cumming! Oh, sweetheart I’m fucking cumming!” Not even seconds after saying those words, you felt hot spurts coat your pussy, the man moaning and you continued to rub his cock all over your sloppy pussy.
“Yes!” You laughed, gasping from how he was still going. “Oh my goodness!” You felt him twitch one last time in your hand before you pulled away, sitting on the chair and spreading your legs to see at the mess he created. Curiosity got the better of you as you dipped your fingers in, scooping some of his cum and licking it clean off. “Mmmm, you taste so good!” He let out a breathy chuckle.
“Thank you for that, baby.” He pulled away from the glory hole, cock disappearing. You heard him put his pants back on. “Can I ask you a question?”
You kneeled back down towards the glory hole. “Yes, what is it?”
“Will you allow me to see who you are?” He sounded like he was nervous to ask the question.
“There’s no fun in a glory hole if you know who the person is,” you replied in a playful tone.
You heard the man let out a small laugh before sighing. “I guess you’re right. Until next time then.”
“Until next time.” You smiled to yourself. One thought sat in the back of your mind, though. Why did this man sound so familiar to you? It was a forbidden glory hole ‘rule’, but you couldn’t help yourself from peeking through the hole in hopes to catch a glimpse of the man on the other side. You noticed a familiar watch on his right hand, his figure coming more into view when he walked towards the door. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you saw the blonde hair. It was none other than Nanami Kento, your co-worker who you regularly greet at the office, the man who sits in the cubicle right next to you.
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tarjapearce · 2 days
Text
Iridiscent (Pt. 5)
Pirate! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader
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WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of slavery, secondary character death, introduction of characters, violence, mysticism, implicit dark rituals and black magic , mentions of blood, power dynamics, power imbalance. Whump scenarios
Summary: A purpose and a choice lays before Miguel's path.
A| N: CENTURIES after, here is our pirate ❤️ Thanks for waiting this chapter!
So far Peter had proved himself to be useful enough to keep up with the fastened peace Miguel was used to.
He didn't slack off or fell behind. If anything The Red Eyed Demon was somewhat impressed. For being a regular merchant there was surely more than met the eye. Life truly never ceased to bring a much needed dose of surprise.
They had escaped Hacienda Valverde, Miguel had to dispose of a couple of guards in the way to retrieve some ammo and other tools. However a new challenge laid ahead.
Get inside a brigantine.
"So, according to you, we just have to keep ourselves hidden until the boat comes. Then we snuck in and hide again."
Peter spoke as he crunched over the jungle's tree roots. Gun strapped to his hip and a sword on the other. Tense muscles still ached, the blows from the guards had left Miguel to handle the physical duties, giving a brief but welcomed rest to the merchant's ribs.
Miguel nodded and stopped for a moment to have a proper look at his surroundings, the familiar smell of rotten wood and moss filled in his lungs, "Basically."
The pirate mumbled as he took a better look into his milieu, unmistakably they were following the same path he took when foraying up into the Hacienda.
With a groan, he pulled Peter up the tree trunk to cross on the other side. Each landed with a heavy thud, a couple of branches crunching under their weight.
"And..." Peter heaved, "you're sure this will work because...?"
"I've done this before." The pirate cut in curtly, a subtle way to say his reluctant companion to shut up.
Peter just nodded and followed him. The soursops kept stretching until they reached some Acai trees.
"We'll need a uniform for you." Miguel glanced briefly Peter's way to then swing his machete through the foliage, ending the life of whatever plant had dared to cross his way.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Miguel sighed on Peter's surprise and turned to see him, "I'll pretend to be your prisoner. But for that we'll need an uniform."
"No offense pal, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm beaten."
Miguel shrugged nonchalantly, "Makes it more believable. They'll think you got in a fight with the slaves. Happens all the time."
This earned Miguel a disgruntled groan.
"I don't look English enough!"
Miguel deadpanned. "You're white, that's more than enough, just fake the accent and you'll be fine."
Peter's stomach flipped uncomfortably at the implication of his words. Slaves? Fights? He looking English? God forbid MJ to know about his whereabouts or his companies. He was already imagining his wife being horrified for the things he was about to do.
"You've traded slaves before?"
Miguel snapped his head at him so quickly with a glare that made Peter recoil with his hands up in defense.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
The merchant quieted down when Miguel brought a rugged finger to his lips and furrowed his brows, then moved his hand down, a signal for them to hide.
Peter swallowed as he ducked and crawled over a nearby thicket, Miguel however hid behind the tree trunk
The indistinct voices murmuring from a distance alerted the fugitives, Miguel peeked out from a standing tree and saw a small group of guards. Three in total.
One stopped in a nearby hollowed and broken trunk, unbuttoning his pants. Miguel's ever alert gaze darted to the other two that walked away a few meters to give their colleague some privacy as they discussed their next rest layoff, completely unaware of the murderous intentions stalking them.
Miguel crouched, to be eye to eye level with Peter and whispered as he handed him the hefty rope in his weathered hands.
"Take the guy in the back. I'll get the other two."
"W-Wait, what am I supposed to do with this?! Choke him?"
"Exactly. Try to not damage the uniform. He looks your size."
Peter gulped with a panic surge and sighed, "Just for you to know, I don't look-"
"Just shut the fuck up and kill that man! "
Miguel hissed, a vexed tinge in his voice as he tightened his grip on the machete and Peter gulped again. Before the merchant could protest Miguel was already prowling over the other two men.
Peter sighed and remained crouched. The soldier kept baptizing the tree with his pungent scent, earning a temporary disgusted look from the merchant.
With quiet steps, and hitched breath he ventured in through the thickets, keeping himself hidden and quiet as possible while his hands rolled and fisted on the rope.
Peter's heart hammered within his ribcage, pounding with such force his chest thrummed. Bile slowly rose in the back of his throat, he was about to kill a man after all. Something he sometimes fantasized whenever his customers were too pushy or demanding in rough seasons with his prices.
But now that he got to experience the real deal, his hands couldn't help but tremble, soft pants turned agitated the more he approached.
The soldier was too into his own musings by buttoning his pants back that felt a bit too late the rope knotting around his throat.
Peter used his back as a lever and with a sudden downward pull brought the fatheaded guard bending above his knees, hands flailing, gasping for air as he tried to remove the rope out of his obliterating neck.
The soldier's muffled and unintelligible gasps soon turned into gurgles and weakening grunts. Peter couldn't see him, yet the man's face went into a chameleon-like state as his face erupted with several shades of blue and purple while his life escaped before the quiet witnessing of mother nature.
Peter heard the other men's cries as Miguel swung his machete in their bodies, ending their lives in swift moves.
The lurid crack made the merchant to tighten his grip for a bit more, making sure the life had faded from his target.
The soldier's deadweight against his back felt like he carried a block of pure lead, no longer moving. His uniformed arms hung loosely on each side of Peter.
"He's dead." Miguel spoke in between pants as he sheathed his weapon and rolled his shoulders in, releasing some pressure from his joints.
Peter however was clutching the rope tighter, his eyes shut and his teeth baring.
"Hey!" Miguel called but his ally was far too gone. It quickly came to realization what was happening. Peter was panicking. With a sigh he approached carefully and removed the rope from his hands in a firm but mindful tug. The soldier slid down his back and fell to the floor, the overgrown grass muffled the body's fall.
"Pet-" Miguel didn't get to finish his name since the aforementioned crawled behind a tree and retched with all his might.
"O-Oh god... I just" He folded again and Miguel scrunched his nose in mild disgust. He begun examinating the fallen's bodies in search of something that deemed useful, in the meantime.
"I just killed a man." Peter gasped to then wipe his mouth with the back of his shirt.
"Congratulations." Mumbled Miguel as he gathered some ammo within a soldier's hat.
"The hell you mean congratulations?! I just killed a man!" Peter held his stomach as he slanted and panted against a tree, his head hazed with a mix of adrenaline and nausea.
"A man that wouldn't hesitate to plow some bullets into you even if you weren't a threat."
Peter just groaned and rubbed his stomach in circles, trying to soothe the gnawing anxiety within his guts.
"You'll get used to it." Added Miguel with a weak shrug, "Better get your uniform soon, we have to hide the bodies."
Peter retched a final time and Miguel groaned, annoyed, he stood and took a handkerchief from one of the soldier's pockets and waited till Peter finished to  hand the fabric piece to him, the latter wiped his mouth and heaved a deep exhale.
"You done?" Miguel's shoulders squared
Peter nodded and without much thinking Miguel slapped him, hard across his face to make all the queasiness abandon his body in a go as he stumbled to the side.
Blue eyes widened both in surprise and and anger.
"W-What the hell was that for?!" the merchant growled and stood inches away from the muscle mass and Miguel  nodded, pleased at his reaction.
"You're angry?"
"Yes! You don't go around slapping people like that!" Peter pushed him as he rubbed his cheek.
"Think that as life slapping you again. And again and again" He crouched to resume his gathering, "And again. What will you do about it?"
"If you slap me again, we'll have a problem, pal."
Miguel chuckled at Peter's sudden bravado. With a soft shake of his head he handed him a knife.
"What will you do about it?"
Peter frowned and looked straight in his eyes.
"I'll beat your ass."
Miguel huffed, and patted his shoulder a tad rough while pushing the knife further into his hands.
"Now you know what to do with the guards if you wanna see your kid again."
Ironically, Miguel had just repeated the same words Mundaca had once taught him, and always proved effective. Of course he understood Peter's discomfit for such life changing event, he had  spent the night crying after giving the foreman's a taste of his own cat 'til he died.
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Night had segued in, covering the endless horizon underneath a stary blanket, the smooth back and fro motion from the dark waves, deemed a worthy sight of admiration after death provoking activities. The saltine breeze caressed the men's skin in an attempt to soothe the underlying discomfit.
Miguel and Peter had found a proper hideout, a spot nearby downhills, where they could see the port and every ship that docked down. The foliage covered them, blending their presence within their ever green density, away from local predators.
The fire cracked cozily within a circle of rocks, oozing with its warmth in every direction anyone approached. Warming up more than bodies and rattled memories.
Miguel laid down in the grass, as Peter sat before the fire that slowly cooked their meal. Some fishes and potatos they'd managed to find in another camp were deemed a proper meal for both.
Peter watched Miguel as he laid.
Strong hands and arms tucked behind his robust nape, eyes closed, almost peacefully. His rugged and cinnamon skin was embedded with faint scar lines that had blurred overtime, leaving a trail of faint white scratches that could only be prominent to the eyesight if he came close enough.
But after witnessing what he could do with his bare hands, the merchant decided he was rather fine at the current distance. His mind however brewed with so many questions his brow furrowed.
"Why did you become a pirate?"
Peter mumbled and Miguel's brows twitched in a mild pucker.
"Had nothing else to lose."
It wasn't in him to share such intimate details of himself with strangers. But Peter had been honest ever since they met, and it was only fair to share tiny bits that remained as universal truths without poking at the too personal territory.
And, au contraire of what people believed of pirate's unruly nature, they all ruled themselves by a code. Miguel respected it as much as he could, specially one of it's most basics and antiques of rules. A truth for a truth.
Peter flipped the fishes to then poke the potatos with a stick, sinking the tip in them to probe at their level of doneness.
"What will we do once in the ship?"
"We hide." Miguel explained simple, "As soon as we get inside, two things can happen." He raised a finger and Peter perked his ears.
"Or you're asked to put all the prisoners to the brig," Miguel raised another finger, "Or you're taken to another area to other duties. You know where a brig is right?"
Peter shrugged with a pout and Miguel groaned while throwing an eye rolling look his way.
"You landlubber..." he shook his head and sighed, "The brig is usually located in the lowest deck. There's no missing in it. Unless you're fucking dumb and end up in the bilge."
"You spill jargon as if I actually understand a thing. I've only been on a boat-"
"Ship." Miguel corrected, earning an irked sigh from Peter.
"I've only been on a ship three times in my life. When my mother gave birth to me, when I tried to look for a better way to keep my business afloat and when I was pressganged by the English a  few days ago. So pardon me for not being a connoisseur of a ship's anatomy."
The ramble made Miguel chuckle with derision.
"Relax, mecha corta. I really need for you to understand that no matter what, we need to get in the ship. That's the only way out we have." (Short stack)
"I know." Peter grumbled, "I just... miss my family." He admitted with a slow yet sharp bite to the fish as Miguel nodded absently.
"Haven't properly met my daughter, haven't seen my wife in almost a month."
Miguel just watched him before rising and seating. He took a impaled fish and pulled it's flesh gently with his fingers and ate in silence.
If anything, the Red Eyed Demon understood him better than anyone.
He'd understand the despair of being away, not knowing anything from his little girl for months, he'd definitely felt the disappointment in Peter's eyes. The all too familiar feeling of being a failure for not being there often weighed his mind way too many times he liked to admit.
"And now I hang out with pirates with a pissy ass attitude." Peter chuckled the last bit for himself, "Where are you from, anyways?"
"Born and raised in a Spaniard Hacienda."
Peter hummed as he munched on a roasted potato and nodded. "Born and raised in Queens, New York, USA."
"Yeah, could tell by the accent."
"Family?"
Miguel shrugged while pulling the fish's spine apart and put it within the giant leaf
"All dead."
Peter stopped in his motions to stare at him with a brief mix of surprise and disturb in his eyes.
"Sorry."
"Así es esto. Now, there's one more possible thing that can happen in the ship." (It is how it is)
Peter wiped the rest of fish on his mouth and paid undivided attention to him.
"There is a minimum chance for us to be discovered once aboard. Though minimum, is still a possibility."
"Ok."
"If we ever get discovered, don't run, don't beg and for God's sake do not jump over the board."
"So we surrender?"
Miguel nodded while eating his dinner in a few bites.
"What if they want to kill us?"
"Though that's a fifty fifty, I'm more inclined to believe they won't. My size alone always brings people's curiosity, so let's use that. You said you were a lock master, right?"
Peter nodded almost dumbly, " A locksmith. That's... my business. Yeah."
"Then, we'll be good"
"And if we don't?"
"We jump over the board."
"But you said we don't-"
"I know what I said, just do as I tell you, alright?"
"Fine."
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For how long they've waited? Hours? No. Definitely days. The sun had gone up and down four times in a row. And the guards were already packing in.
Gathering and scourging for food was a a risky move, since the guards in Hacienda Valverde had found a couple of corpses the deathly duo left in their wake.
Miguel had kept him well fed and making sure he'd recover properly. If they wanted to leave, Peter had to give him the best rendition of his opposite being. He hsd to be strong, for his little girl awaiting back at home and himself.
Upon the fifth day, The both stared with keen and curious eyes the horizon. The first few english frigates docked, announcing with their sumptuous flags on top, the arrival of the HMS Amberjack. A navy galley.
Peter however smacked Miguel's chest when his eyes noticed another ship behind. This one had two flags. One black and the other a clear piece of Spain.
Miguel's brows furrowed with alarm and confusion.
"What is he doing here?" The pirate muttered under his breath upon recognizing the Spaniard captain's ship.
Another galley, piloted by none other than a famous privateer that spaniards hired whenever a route or a pirate proved themselves a nuisance for the merchants in the area.
None other than Constantino Salazar de Olivares, or infamously known as El Brujo, took the steering wheel of El Aquelarre. A galley that could easily be mistaken by the devil's ship itself, spat right out of darkness and abyss.
"You know him?" Peter quirked a brow on his annoyed reaction.
Of course Miguel knew him. Olivares was after Mundaca, and his crew. El Brujo had been on a relentless hunt for his father figure a long time ago.
"If you're dangerous enough either spaniards or english men send him for your head. But el cabrón proves himself more annoying than anything with his stupid ass beliefs."
"What's wrong with them?"
"He calls himself a sorcerer. Him being here is no good. Something's happening. If we can, we avoid him."
Peter just nodded and soon, the plan was set in motion.
They changed and practiced Peter's locksmith skills once more, before making sure he could get Miguel out of his shackles without a hitch, if the situation demanded it.
And once ready, both men made a descend downhill, threading carefully through the jungle to beckon closer into their common enemy's territory.
Miguel could sense Peter's discomfit as he pressed the weapon against his back.
"Relax. Once aboard, try to stick nearby."
The closer they got, the more men and noise they could hear.
"Round'em up boys, we gotta leave before midday!"
The captain shouted somewhere. The slaves, much to Peter's distraught, were held in chains, shackled in a bee line as they were pushed up aboard.
Miguel murmured little indications to Peter the more they ventured in everyone's radar. Bit by bit, they managed to sneak in the prisoner's registration under fake names.
They passed the first security filter without much trouble. Slowly but surely, the line grew shorter. El Aquelarre came into view and a chill ran down Miguel's spine.
It wasn't only the mysterious and supernatural aura that oozed from the black ship, but the feeling of something unknown calling him. Pulling him close like magnet. And then he saw him. Saw the man that had been chasing Mundaca for almost a decade.
Tall, dressed up in a crimson red coat, black pants and boots. A large and fat shiny feather adorning his triple black edged hat. A couple of talismans, and rhinestones necklaces adorned his tattooed neck and wrists.
Constantino was a good looking man. His eagle like nose, matched perfectly his symmetric squared face. Thin but pretty lush lips, hidden underneath a scruffy, thick beard. Bushy brows that could rival Miguel's, what stood out the most, however were his feline eyes rimmed in black.
Pale green that people often mistook for gold. Watching, ever mysterious and impassive his surroundings. A dangerous pretty man that wouldn't hesitate into sacrificing anything in the name of his beliefs. Leaning against a palm tree.
"Hold on... What was your name again?" The guard before them asked while he took Miguel by the nape and examined him.
"Johnson."
"Ah... Must be a new face 'cause I haven't see you around."
Peter scoffed nervously, "I was assigned up the state."
The guard tittered as he shoved Miguel inside, a couple of flogs were delivered by other armored men, the pirate hissed, his flesh had forgotten what was to take a taste of that whip's mean end. If anything Peter's accent was a bit too good. It suited him, sadly.
The quartermaster looked at Peter with a curious glance while circling him.
"You look familiar."
"I-I've been told I have a common face. Same for my cousin. We're-"
"Shut yer gob."
Peter obeyed as the man slapped disdainful his back. His heart beat increased a houndred per second.
"That uniform looks a bit too big on you, Pete."
The pirate looked at him, concerned despite his own pain. They were almost there. Freedom at the tip of his calloused fingers.
"Well," Peter swallowed as his eyes darted to Miguel, "Taking care of that bastard is a good workout. Specially when said fucking idiot keeps running away!"
The guard laughed merrily and squeezed his shoulders. Peter laughed and nodded with him.
"Oh, tell me about that. Chasing slaves is fun. We should get dogs to make a competition. Sadly, Pete..."
The merchant's face fell as soon as the quartermaster pulled out his gun and pointed it at Miguel.
"You'll have to go in the other ship. As much as I'd love to keep you both, and see you chasing that dumb mammoth, the brig's full. Ya get me?"
Miguel rose to his feet in a haste as the other guards tossed him outside the ship. He had to keep the calm despite the burning and scorching fury shouting to be unleashed. To teach them what he was made of.
"Tell Smith to take the rest to Olivares' ship."
"Yes, sir."
Peter didn't waste a second longer and told the guard behind, assuming he was the Smith guy, to take the remaining group of slaves towards the black and eerie ship.
He walked ahead of the group and sighed with relief, if it wasn't for his quick thinking and impersonation of a couple of his clients, who knows what would've happen.
The gun was pressed against Miguel's back and sighed
"Sorry for that. You ok?"
Miguel just nodded, a tad uncomfortable by the tingling burning in his skin and the fact that his plan was dramatically changing.
A crisp, strong and cold gust of air pushed both men forward, coaxing to approach faster. As if the universe was unable to wait a second longer for them to meet their fate and ebbed them to get inside as soon as possible.
Constantino's green eyes met Miguel's red ones for a brief second, clashing with unspoken grudge. The latter could see how El Brujo smirked as he was taken to the brig.
But little had realized Salazar that he had summoned yet another demon to his ship.
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Miguel's mind was rampant. The moment he had stepped in the ship, his brain was already counting the men and recollecting as much information as he could swot on.
The guards, or rather the lack of them, made him frown. Were they on cover torturing the upcoming slaves? Probably. Or they could be in the weapon room, readying the canons and powder for defense.
Just as Miguel had said, the brig was located in the lower deck, and what he found there, churned Peter's heart with an uncomfortable stir.
Slaves. Grown men and youngsters all put in cages, like wild animals for a merciless and dehumanizing show. The ship hasn't even sailed yet, and their heads already had a price.
Each knew their fate. Spain, England even America and Cuba. Others hoped for a quick death, if the diseases and whipping on earth didn't, the injuries in their body would.
Some slaves looked up to meet their new trip colleagues with keen eyes, hoping for a novelty. And Miguel didn't disappoint. A collective round of hushed whispers in different languages echoed as he entered.
He was put on a cell with another young black man, and the rest was put in the remaining cages.
Silence reigned heavy in the brig once the guards left at haste. Curiously, if he had seen a couple of guards, was to say he'd seen too much of them. The ship was desolated. Even for a galley. But to Olivares, this seemed like another day.
Seconds and minutes dragged on too slow, but the hefty and slow steps from the darkened hall alerted the men.
All eyes could see the pair of beady glowing golden eyes, approaching, preying. The black and shiny feather on his hat waved at the beat of his walking.  Constantino was selecting the future sacrifice for his ship.
It was mandatory, since Olivares believed subjugated blood protected against all evil once in the sea.
His imposing frame blocked the view further to the darkened hall, emerging like if shadows themselves had spat him right before them. Beady and eerie eyes raked over the fine and twisted selection of men that stared back with fear. Green gold orbs glanced a little to long in Miguel's way, to then shift his eyes to a young man.
El Brujo had made his selection. With a snap of his fingers he pointed at the man and two guards came and fetched him. Needless to say the young slave fought, cried and asked for mercy. But it all fell upon deafening ears.
Miguel wasn't precisely a believer, he'd rather to not dwell too munch into things that didn't provide or granted him a purpose, food or money. But after seeing a mermaid with his own eyes, he couldn't remain completely skeptical to the mysterious ways of the world and how they wove it's intricate connections together.
The youngster was dragged away and the rest could only watch in fear silent. Making themselves as small as they could. They knew how things would end for their companion.
The rituals Constantino did, left the slaves trembling in fear. He'd start chanting in Latin, then have the man's throat slit and his blood smeared in whatever surface Olivares decided to put on, and then throw the body at the sea, to feed the monsters lurking underneath. Serving his purpose of sacrifice.
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Peter returned a couple of hours later, with a disturbed and paling countenance, strong emotions surely made a show of his face.
Bile rose up his throat, like his discomfit. When he entered the brig every pair of eyes were on him as he quickly removed his coat, trying to break the link that tied him to that awful event, leaving his stained shirt with spots of long dried blood. He sat a few steps away of Miguel.
The latter didn't have to ask too much as to what had happened when Peter's hands did all the talking. There was blood in them. Dry and crusty flakes came off as the merchant rubbed them on his pants.
Olivares had ordered him to paint the ship's board with the young man's blood.
"He... He killed him." Peter stammered to then gulp the sudden lump tightening in his throat. His breath hitched.
"Of course he would. He's coo-coo on the head. He believes 'imself sorcerer or some shite like that."
The man next to him spoke, like the sacrificed man, he was young, didn't passed the nineteens, tall, lanky, some piercings on his face and tattoos on his marred and whipped flesh.
His hair was tucked back in a lose thick bun, thanks to his dreadlocks. His eyes dark, ever pondering and assessing the situation before him.
"Then how do'ya explain we survived  that... monster of storm, Hobie?!" Another man with a heavy accent spoke, and some nodded as if encouraging the questioning.
"Cause it's a sturdy ship, you twat, it's well built!. Spain has the best craftsmen in the navy." The man shrugged nonchalantly.
"He hunted down a monster!"
That perked Miguel's ears. "What monster?"
Peter and the man next to him looked with a quirked brow his way. Miguel didn't strike as someone gullible for such nonsense.
"I don't know, man. But the storm was so strong the ship nearly sinks. All we could hear was screams and some guards saying, 'we've got her.' And then? The biggest and meanest of waves start hitting and wipes half the crew!"
Miguel blinked almost dumbly. 
"This ship's hunted cause that Olivar man has made a pact with the devil."
"It's a rumor, Adé." Hobie mumbled, a little annoyed they couldn't see past superstition.
"It is not! Think about it! This famous pirate dies, and all these... mysterious things start happening at sea. Ships start sinking, waves turn bigger and bigger each storm, just cause they saw this... monster."
"Are you forgetting we nearly drown, ship an all? The sea is angry!. And since this... Captain captured whatever, it's even angrier at us. He shouldn't be a fool and trust demons to take care of us and return that thing to where it belongs!"
The other slaves nodded. Superstition was rampant in every ship Miguel visited. But again, he simply couldn't remain a non believer forever when a mermaid ate his quartermaster before him and everyone aboard his forsaken ship.
While the chained men discussed other underworld like stories, Miguel scooted closer to a much more calm Peter.
"How many men you saw?" he asked in a low, almost hushed voice.
"Like twenty five, including the captain. Most are in their barracks."
Miguel nodded with an emerging idea in his mind. The slaves were bigger than the crew itself if he could convince them to join his cause, not only would they be free, but he'd have a temporary ship to finally get his own back.
But would they follow him?
That was a significant question. If there was something life had taught him, was to preach with an example. Only then he'd get the right people to get his goal achieved.
"What're ya planning?" Hobie spoke as he kept glancing to the door.
"Excuse me?" His bushy brow quirked with disdain.
"Excused. What're ya are planning?"
Miguel remained quiet for a bit. The young man had spoken enough to prove himself a rational and quick thinker, and his knowledge of ships didn't go unnoticed.
"Escaping and seizing the ship."
Hobie couldn't help but titter quietly on Miguel's words.
"Well, break a leg, mate." He shook his head.
Miguel shrugged as Peter begun lock picking his shackles. Mirth slowly left Hobie's body, surprise and hope took over.
"Wait. wait... What are you doing?"
"Escaping, to seize the ship."
"Wait!" Hobie demanded once more, turning the whole attention the attention of the whole group towards them.
"Have you even seen the pigs outside? They're armored to the teeth! They'll kill you."
"I rather fuck around to find out than dying to a man's madness, boy."
The shackles embracing his wrist possessively, fell to the floor. Defeated.
"Will you get us out of here?"
"Please! Get us out!"
The slaves begun pleading, raising their voices and Miguel roared with his commanding voice.
"Cállense!" (Shut up)
Peter looked outside the door as quiet returned to the brig. With a deep inhale, Miguel spoke.
"If we want to get out, you'll listen. Understood?
Mostly nodded.
"I can't free you out just yet." Some faces fell, other sighed with resignation, "I need to confirm the information first, we need to be careful. If we get caught, we all die. Simple as that."
"How can we know this white man won't sell us out?"
Another collective rounds of nodding flooded the future crew.
"Cause he was beaten and press ganged by the english too. He's a merchant not a guard."
"And a locksmith." Peter quipped, trying to clean his sudden reputation.
"You said the waves wiped half the crew right?" the man nodded, "Peter here says it's twenty five men in total, including the captain."
"We're more than them?" Hobie asked, nonplussed for a second.
"Apparently. That's why I wanna go and see myself, cause if it's true, we can take this ship to ourselves."
"Now you're the crazy one." Another man spoke.
Miguel's brows furrowed with annoyance, tired of the pessimistic thinking when the chance laid obvious and ahead of them.
"I'll make it simple for you. If we don't succeed we'll get to either Spain, England or Cuba, where each of you will get at much three hundred for your head, if you're not injured." Some men recoiled at the information,
"Some won't even endure the first month of labor under the english. You think Spaniards and Cuban are bad? Wait for you to be at the hands of British."
He stood and Peter opened the door's cell. His true seize standing proud among the rest. Some gasped.
"If you want a number define your value, be my guest. The less useless in my way, the better." Miguel smoothed his wrists and moved them to stretch his fingers.
"But if you want to live and experience life out of those shackles, you'll wait till I return and act like nothing happened in the meantime, understood?"
Hobie chuckled and nodded. The rest followed with a new sense of renewed hope.
"Aye, sir." He saluted.
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Sneaking out wasn't hard, but keeping himself hidden proved to be rather tricky.
Narrow and wooden halls extended left and right, and after what it felt hours he cleared the weaponry room, seizing some for himself. A short ranged knife and a rope. The pistols would be fetched later, when the heist would start. For now, he'd need to be as quiet as possible.
The brig was the extension of the armory. Canons and rifles laid in every direction his eyes landed. All left behind by a wiped crew.
The creaking door however made him hide under the gunpowder barrels, the tinkering of rhinestones and talismans made his breath hitch. He saw Salazar going further the room, and then he disappeared in plain sight.
Confused, Miguel snuck closer and he pressed an ear on the wall.
There were definitely steps and voices. Salazar spoke, and another door was opened.
How could he disappear and be in another place?
His brows puckered and soon his hands pressed against the wall. Taunting and feeling for any irregularity in it. A little current of air flowing in a side made him blink.
A hidden passage. Of course.
He pushed the apparent sturdy wall and to his surprise it budged enough to create an opening to another hall. He sidled inside and hid behind some boxes.
He could see the hall empty, candle lit by the lamps etched to the walls. Floor damp, the saline water pungent.
Was he on the bilge?
Salazar's feather bounced as he walked behind the sturdy door. There was no room for doubts.
With careful steps he approached the end of the hall and snuck in last minute before the door closed with a loud thud.
He hid once more under a pile of musty ropes and ammo. The room was lit up in a cold hue of blue. The crystal-like resin Constantino used to lit the lamp, sparked in a pale blue and aqua sparks, cracking merrily as the fire consumed it within the translucent goblet, amplifying the magnitude of the illumination.
"Cuando lleguemos, la reina no tendrá más opción que darme todo lo que le pida. Ya que te rehúsas a cumplir mis deseos, veremos si desafías a la corona." (When we arrive? The queen will have no choice but to give me everything I ask for. Since you refuse to grant my wishes, let's see if you refuse The Crown)
Miguel could see Olivares from a slit between the ropes.
A deaf thud echoed and Salazar let out an ominous yet rich laugh. Way too entertained.
"Aunque me encantaría que me consumas, aún tengo otros planes en mente." (Although I'd love to be consumed by you, I've still got other plans in mind for you)
Without much say, Olivares left after turning off the resin again. Letting the room to drown in darkness once more.
When Miguel was sure none would come again, he stepped out of his hiding spot and approached the goblet, he had no immediate fire, but knew how to start one. It was one of the first things Mundaca taught him.
He took two pieces of resin and crashed them together until sparks flew again. Illuminating the room with the soft blue hue again.
The clinking of chains demanded his attention. And his heart nearly stopped at the sight.
It couldn't be, could it?
Cruelly chained by your neck and wrists, with heavy links attached to the floor, allowing minimum movement. A hook trespassed the fin of your tail, nearby it's start, holding you in place from a corner.
Defeated, beaten and bleeding; trapped behind thick walls of glass that provided a clear image of your overall state.
Tortured and injured.
You were real. Mermaids were real. And they bled.
You bled.
He didn't have to repeat himself that they weren't real to try and justify your mere existence. Not when you laid before his eyes. Subjugated, demoralized and meek. A demure creature far too different from the monster he met at the ship.
But instead of feeling joy and that twisted sense of pride for a fellow human to have captured you and had your will broken, something else nested in his chest.
Compassion and confusion.
How had Constantino achieved his younger self's dream? How was this possible?
He stepped closer and his breath hitched for a second time. For once in forever, your eyes met his.
Acknowledging eachother.
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essektheylyss · 2 days
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This was entirely tangential to this post from @utilitycaster which is why this is its own post, but the tags made me think about what feels most compelling about Liliana to me, and it's really because there's such an interesting approach to redemption in terms of the sunk cost fallacy to be had there.
There have been plenty of comparisons between Liliana and Essek, but I don't think they're really situations that can be compared. Essek had done one horrible thing (that was of relevence to the story; it is implied that he's taken other actions that he feels were wrong, but we don't know what those entail nor do the Nein care enough to ask, so per narrative convention, they do not matter for analysis) and was only still involved in it to the extent that he couldn't take it back, so to survive he had to continue covering his tracks. But he was also incentivized to otherwise act in alignment with the group that was not those on behalf of whom he had made terrible choices, because he was still living in the Dynasty, and as such wasn't actively perpetuating those actions beyond the cover up.
Liliana on the other hand is acting with the Vanguard and has been furthering if not personally committing atrocities on their behalf for a number of years, continuing to the present. Like Essek, she believes her involvement in the cause to be a difficult choice that was made for noble reasons, and now can't see a way out. But she is also relieved to be told to stay, though at the point that they discuss her leaving, she is alone and outside the immediate range of contact or oversight from the Vanguard. It seems reasonable that she could disappear with a decent headstart, and perhaps become untraceable quickly enough to be safe from anyone following. With this context, returning to the Vanguard with the intention of feeding information to the opposition feels like the riskier choice, but crucially it is the devil she knows.
I actually liken this more to Cassandra de Rolo than Essek. Cassandra was manipulated against her brother by the Briarwoods, but this was also spurred by having watched Percy seemingly leave her for dead. There are legitimate reasons why the Briarwoods, as the people who rescued her and then kept her alive for many years, are the easier option in which to place her trust. She knows what she's getting from that vantage point and how to handle it. She doesn't inherently have faith that someone she only knew as a young and helpless child, who ran from the hardships she's faced, would have the strength or willingness to do what she has found necessary for survival.
I think that Liliana's actions are more willful, not least because she was not a child nor in mortal peril when she joined the Vanguard, but she sees herself as having made difficult choices when only faced with difficult options, and I do think they have been difficult. She didn't want to leave her family; she doesn't want to hurt the young Ruidusborn under her care; she is probably genuinely sorry that innocent people were considered a necessary sacrifice for what she sees as the greater good. It is psychologically taxing to feel as though one is always picking between bad options, which is a significant contributing factor for why people buy into a sunk cost for so long. And over time, those hard decisions become easier, because you know what to expect from the outcome. Though Liliana is well aware that she might be killed for a misstep among the Vanguard, she already knows how to act to maintain their favor, but how she might be received on Exandria by those fighting the Vanguard, even with the Hells vouching for her, is anyone's guess.
This is a very real reason why people remain in cults and struggle to push back against this kind of conditioning: because the decision to leave feels more immediately perilous than the decision to stay. (On a certain level making these kinds of choices and actions habitual is a fundamental basis behind a lot of military conditioning.) And if you are acting in the interests of your own survival, but that survival comes at the cost of that of countless others who have not, in fact, made any threat or harm against you to begin with, then is the nature of your survival morally defensible?
This analysis isn't a question of whether Liliana will commit to her role as double agent and turn fully against the Vanguard, or even which one of these is a "better" story; this is about what the story might say if she doesn't. Yes, she might commit to a different path than the one she's on and make an effort to redeem herself, but it is also a perfectly coherent and interesting story if she doesn't.
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petrapalerno · 2 days
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Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #12
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Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.
TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, overstimulation, anal play, gagging, violence and murder.
MASTER POST
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PREVIOUS
The entrance to the hunting cave is nearly invisible. Golden vines twine over the leather door flap, nearly obscuring it from view. 
Sweat drips off your brow. The humidity of the jungle is so different from the dusty deserts of this planet. You find it hard to believe these two eco systems exist so close to each other. 
Drohako removes the saddle bag from Graysi and sets them near the rocky wall of the cave.
Pushing through the saffron colored brush, you notice the sweat on your arms mingling with the blood of the fallen alien attacker. 
You took someone’s life, extinguishing it in a single act. A full fucking grown Volkroth warrior. 
And he fucking deserved it. 
You think about your life before, how you wouldn’t be able to do what you had just done. 
But things are different now. You love an alien barbarian, you’re carrying his child, and you’ve run away from what little civilization exists on this planet. 
You should feel worse about murdering someone, shouldn’t you? 
Drohako’s hand caresses along the messy skin of your arm. 
“Your first kill?” He questions, although you can tell that he already knows the answer when you nod. “You are strong, you protected your family—wear his blood with honor.” 
Our family. 
You push your way through the overgrowth on the door and into the cave. 
As the leather flap snaps free from the grasping vines, dirt sprays and you cough, your lungs assaulted by the dust. 
The hunting cave is even more primitive than you expected. Unlike where you’ve fled from, there are no comforts. No furs line the sleeping space, the fire pit is tiny, and a thick layer of dust coats everything. 
“You don’t get to do much hunting, do you?” You ask with a sarcastic smile. 
“Hunting seasons are short, especially in spawning years,” he shrugs, pushing past you. 
Drohako removes the incubation pod from his satchel as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. His thick fingers struggling to hold the tech just barely bigger than a gallon of milk.
“Hard to think you were ever that small,” you sigh as you flop down and pat your slightly swollen belly. “I feel like I can’t even feel him in there, you know?” 
A panicked look flashes across his purple face. 
“I mean, he’s in there, but I thought it would feel different—like a parasite.” Your alien frowns, and you get that your choice of words has you sounding less than enthused. 
“What I mean is, it doesn’t feel wrong—it feels natural, like it was meant to be.”
When you look back up at my mate’s face, you can see his gaze soften. 
“It’s fate,” He tells you. “Come, the pod needs a blood sample to activate.” 
He reaches his scarred hand out to you, pulling you to standing. When he taps a button along the incubation pod’s side, a robotic arm pops out. 
“It’s strange Volkroth’s births are so high tech, aren’t it? Because, well,” You gesture broadly to your surroundings. The primitive cave isn’t really where you would expect the Volkroth to live after seeing this little space age orb of white metal and glass. 
“We choose to live in the ways of our ancestors—but we’ve adapted to breed without female Volkroth, and it’s mostly thanks to this tech,” He keepings talking even after the little robot arm pokes your finger with a quickly appearing needle. 
“Ouch!” you yelp, as Drohako grabs your hand to prevent it from recoiling from the machine. 
“Still, it’ll be over in a second,” he mutters as he watches the collection tube meet the small droplet of blood welling on your fingertip. With a whoosh, the machine sucks the sanguine fluid away.
As the blood enters the pod, it glows with an orange light. The intensity pulsing like a heartbeat. 
“Done. That wasn’t so bad, now was it my tiny warrior?” His face is filled with pride as he stares down at your still blood covered body.
“Well, no, but—“ he interrupts your words by sucking your finger into his mouth, his rough tongue licking the needle’s wound.
“I promise you pleasure earlier,” he growls as my finger drops from his lips. The sound of his voice is making your pussy quickly slicker, as if on his command. 
When you feel his hand go lower, skirting the hem of your wrap. You grab his wrist. 
“Stop.”
Maybe you’re still full of adrenaline from the attack, or maybe this feeling has always been under the surface–but you want to be in control for the first time in your life. 
“Mate?” His body is frozen, maybe shocked by your command.
“I think I’d like to call the shots this time,” you whisper to your barbarian.
“That’s new,” Drohako cocks an eyebrow. The muscles of his body relax slightly, but his eyes bored into you with a new intensity. “So, what do you want?” 
“I want you to listen, but don’t worry–you’ll enjoy yourself if you do. Will you be a good boy for me?” 
His pupils dilate and he looks like he can taste colors as he looks at you with hooded eyes. 
“If that’s what my mates wants, a good boy is what she’ll get.” 
“I need something comfortable to lie down on,” you say with an unpracticed coolness that surprises you both. 
Drohako swiftly steps past you, pushing the leather flap out of his way, as he grabs the saddle bags from outside. Once back indoors, he kicks some dead leaves and twigs away, clearing a spot on the dirt floor. 
He looks at you with a pleased smile as he unrolls a few of the thick yellow furs from your former home. 
“This will do.” You shrug off your makeshift clothing, already feeling one hundred percent better than before. There’s something so natural about wearing nothing at all around Drohako that makes your heart sing. 
His gaze on your naked body is that of a predator’s, hungry and all-consuming. You lay down slowly, deliberately, spreading your legs so he can take in the view. 
He inhales sharply and pushes the heel of his hand down over his loincloth, onto his quickly hardening bulge. 
“Who said you could touch yourself?” You drawl as my finger traces up your slick lips. “I don’t think I gave you permission.” 
“I thought this was supposed to be fun,” He scowls, clenching his fists at his side. You don’t let the fact that he’s still listening to you go unnoticed. 
“It will be, because the anticipation is part of the pleasure.” 
Whatever’s possessed you to be so bold, you love it. Could it be that letting yourself be used like you’ve always wanted has you finding some new confidence? Have you found my power through being submissive? 
You rub small circles over your clit. The blood of the fallen male mixing with your own slick–Drohako’s breath catches as he watches you work.
“I want you to want me, to feel every pang of desire.” 
You twist your nipple with your free hand, not even attempting to stifle the moan that falls from your lips. 
“Can I touch you, if I can’t touch myself?” His voice is needier than you’ve ever heard it before. 
“Are you uncomfortable? Does my having the control cause you this agony?” You ask him, dipping your fingers into my opening—thrusting deep. “Don’t you wish it was your cock plunging inside me?” 
“Is torture your idea of fun? Does our Volkroth babe fill steel your heart as a barbarian?” Despite his suffering, he smiles. His eyes hold a menacing glint.
“Seeing you squirm is fucking delicious, a reward all in itself.” You pick up your pace, throbbing need ebbs through your core. “Ask me for what you want,” you moan.
Drohako licks his lips, stepping closer. 
“I want to taste you,” he growls. 
“Then crawl and beg me for the honor. Prove to me you want it.”
Drohako, the mighty alien warrior that he is, drops to his knees with a thud. He rakes his nails over the dirt floor, pushing his glorious ass high. Each scrape of his fingers over the ground sends shivers up my spine.
When he finally reaches you, he presses his lips against your trembling skin, worshipping every inch of you with fervent kisses. You moan in ecstasy as he continues to worship at the altar of your pleasure. His tongue laps up your honey, teetering you on the edge of bliss.
You're both consumed by our primal desires, oblivious to the world around you, fueled by an insatiable hunger for each other’s bodies. 
“Make me come, mate,” you hiss as you buck your hips, threading your fingers through his coarse hair and wrapping around his horns.
Drohako probes his fingers into you, spreading you wide with his hands alone. When he sucks on your clit, your core pulses sharply and you shatter.
Your legs attempt the snap shut over his ears, but he pushes them open. His tongue is unrelenting. 
“Stop!” your voice is hoarse as you yell. 
Despite his history of loving your overstimulation, he does. With just one word from you, he immediately ceases his ministrations. He’s under your command, afterall.
“You’ve done such a good job, you deserve a reward—” 
“Serving you, mate, is enough.” He pulls himself until his strong jaw rests on your stomach. His face glistens with your juices. 
He brings his hand to either side of your hips, kissing the small swell on your stomach. He stares adoringly at the pooch, and the promise that lies within.
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five-rivers · 2 days
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vacation in camazotz
@rgbyshipper101
.
“... keeps going like this, he’s going to end up dropping the house into another dimension again.”  Danny sighed heavily.  
“Well, that’s not really fair,” said Sam.  
“Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Danny, blinking blankly at her.  “That’s definitely a thing he did.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally him.”
“He was pretty tangential, actually,” said Tucker.  “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”
“I… haven’t I told you about the time he sent the house into a parallel dimension?”
“You didn’t exactly need to.  We were all there.”
“No,” said Danny.  “What are you guys talking about?”
“Yes, we were.  The whole town was there,” said Tucker.  
“You know,” prompted Sam.  “Vlad pawning the Ring of Rage off on Valerie, you pulling Fright Knight’s sword out of the ground, Pariah Dark.”
“Yeah, you’re more related to us winding up in the Ghost Zone than your dad is.”
“Ooohhhh, I get what’s going on.  You’re thinking of a completely different time.  The time I’m talking about is way back in sixth grade.”
Sam’s gamer cave (she did not call it that, but that’s what it was) went quiet enough that the faint hum of the computer screens could be heard.  
“Your dad sent you guys to another dimension when you were in sixth grade,” said Sam, spinning her chair around and pointing a painted fingernail at Danny.
“Yeah,” said Danny.
“Three years before your whole…”  She waved her hand at him.  “Thing.”
“Before you got zapped, she means,” said Tucker.
“Yeah.  So?”
“So,” said Sam, “why is that, even though you knew alternate dimensions were a thing and your dad could get you there, you didn’t believe in ghosts and were okay with walking into the portal?”
“Okay, but, look,” said Danny.  He put his controller to one side.  “That’s– That’s a false equivalency.”
“Spending time with Jazz, I see,” said Tucker.  He was now the only one still playing the game.  
“Shut up,” said Danny.  “I know stuff without Jazz telling me about it.  But just because one unbelievable thing is true, that doesn’t mean that all unbelievable things are true.  Besides, the dimension we wound up in was way different from the Ghost Zone.  Had nothing to do with ghosts at all.  Definitely not something you look at and then go, ah, yes, ghosts exist.”
“But you knew that other dimensions existed.  Even if there weren’t ghosts on the other side of the portal, you still could’ve realized that it could take you to another dimension.”
“But it didn’t do that.  It just half killed me.”
“By opening a portal to another dimension in you.”
“And?”
Sam glared at him.  “You’re just playing dumb at this point.”
“Neither of you are playing anything, and I think at this point we can just say that Danny’s dumb.”  Tucker’s computer let out a little jingle as his character completed a quest.  
“Hey!  Most of their stuff doesn’t work,” said Danny, exasperated.  
“But you were messing around with something that they had made work before.  Didn’t you think that could be dangerous?  Or have consequences?  Drop you in yet a different dimension?  Something?”
“They said it didn’t work.  I believed them.  And you guys kept hassling me about it.”
“Someone skipped out on the ‘don’t give in to peer pressure’ PSAs,” said Tucker, singsong.  
“You are not innocent here, Tucker!  We’ve all done dumb stuff.  Can we drop it?  I thought we were playing games today, not playing ‘gang up on Danny for stuff we all did.’”
“Fine,” said Sam.  She picked her controller back up.  Danny picked his up a second later. 
They continued playing the game.  
Then Sam dropped her controller again, this time in her lap.  “Okay, actually, this is going to bother the heck out of me if I don’t know.  How did your Dad drop the house in an alternate dimension?”
“And what was it like?” added Tucker.  He, of course, kept his eyes on the game.  
“What was it like…” said Danny, contemplative.  He made his character run around in circles.  “How to explain?”
“Start with how you got there,” said Sam.  “Go from there.”
“Okay.  Well.  It started off– It was pretty normal.  You know.”
“Uh, no,” said Tucker.  “Sending your house to another dimension is not normal.”
“Normal for them.  For my parents.”
“Define normal here.  Like, describe it,” said Tucker.  
“Working on the portal.”
Sam let out a slow, exasperated sigh.  “Really, Danny?”
“Well, it was that or weapons.  Do you think their weapons teleported us to another dimension?”
“They could’ve.  The bazooka does,” said Tucker.  
“Fair,” said Danny.  “But, like, they were working on the portal, but then they were going over some of the math - it was wrong, obviously - and they saw that there was, like, there was a, um.  There was an ‘interesting result.’  Supposedly, distance fell out of the equation if you had the right inputs.  Something like that.”
“Which means… what?” asked Sam.  
“They thought they could make a teleporter.”
“What!”  Tucker finally whirled away from his monitor.  “They have a teleporter?  They made a teleporter?”
“No.  That’s the whole point.  No teleporter.  They messed it up.  But, like, they built what they thought was a teleporter.  And, of course, as soon as they built it, they had to use it.  Mom wanted to do small tests, sending an apple back and forth or something, but Dad decided to jump right into teleporting the entire house, because it was vacation time.”
“Yeah, okay, that sounds like your dad,” said Tucker.  
“Doesn’t it?  Which is why I’m worried now, because it’s the same thing all over again, he keeps getting too excited and then doesn’t slow down to make sure things work the way they’re supposed to.”
“You have no right to criticize that, Mr. Walks Into a Portal and Dies,” said Sam.  
“I think I’m the only one who does have the right to criticize it.”
“And the dimension?” asked Tucker.  “I want to know about the alternate dimension.”
“Right,” said Danny.  “Well, when Dad ‘teleported’ us, we knew things were wrong pretty much right away.  You guys have read a Wrinkle in Time, right?”
“Sure,” said Sam.  
“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “It was assigned last year, wasn’t it?”
“Right, so, you know the planet with the brain?  It was– It was kind of like that.”  His character died and he sighed.  “I suck at multitasking.  It wasn’t even just the stuff, it was, like, the air was flat.  The texture of everything was wrong.  Everything was… fake?  Like a performance, except it was the whole world.  Everyone just had these smiles on their faces but they were… empty.”
Sam propped her head up on her fist.  “Your parents sent you to play outside and didn’t notice any of that, didn’t they?”
“They did.  But they did notice stuff.  Like, all the houses being the same, the creepy sky–”
“The sky was creepy?”
“Super creepy.  It was like.  Segmented.  Triangles.  Like we were inside a pyramid.  And all the roofs were also pyramids, now that I think about it.  Just, pyramids everywhere.  Really pointy ones.  Oh!  And gravity was also a pyramid.”
“What?” asked Sam.  
“Gravity was a pyramid.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It was a pyramid.  Gravity.”
“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got this,” said Tucker.  “What shape is gravity here?”
“It’s round,” said Danny, “duh.”
“It’s round, so there you go, Sam,” said Tucker.  
“It is round,” said Danny.  “Like, gravitational fields, they’re round.  But they were pyramids there.”
“Wow,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t have expected that.  Pyramids.”
“See?  Ghost Zone is totally different.”
“Yep,” said Tucker.  His computer let out another chime.  “By the way, you guys owe me soda now.”“How did you do that?” complained Danny.  “You weren’t even looking at the screen!”
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randomfoggytiger · 3 days
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Collector's Edition: Reviving that Love
Let's have an assortment of mature, (mostly) fluffy, coupley Revival fics, shall we?
This list only scratches the surface; but hopefully it's enough to soothe a particular itch.
**Note**: Another Revival list I've done is Beefy Revival Mulder (and Other Muscular Mentions)-- perfect pairing to this, I believe.
Loose chronological order below~
@oohnotvery/the_eternal_optimist's Always Wanted
But he has a key to her place, because they’ve always had keys to the other’s place, even in horrible times. It arrived in the mail one day, sealed tightly in a bubble-wrapped envelope, addressed from her to him with a handwritten note that he hadn’t even bothered to read before crushing it up in a ball and tossing it into the trash can. Several hours later, in a fit of frustration, he had fished the note out of the trash and shoved it, unread, into a kitchen drawer.
Breakup Mulder realizes Scully has been waiting for him.
@aloysiavirgata’s (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ)
Si Hoc Legere Potes, Liberaliter Educatus
"It was very important to Deputy Director Skinner that you two meet with me. He felt that you needed some guidance before you could resume any kind of professional partnership."
I grit my teeth. You're a dead man, Skinner. 
S10 Mulder and Scully run laps around the FBI recruitment therapist.
I need a fic with Scully's stolen dog Dagoo, and her wearing a Knicks tshirt.
“This is the one I ripped a piece off of for Boggs, Scully. This isn’t just my Knicks shirt. This is my favorite Knicks shirt. I’ve been looking for it!”
She pulls Tesla closer. “Stop violating the fourth amendment, Agent.”
“Stop violating the eighth commandment, Doctor.”
Post The Weremonster Mulder and Scully debate dog names and Knicks T-shirts.
What's your Mulder and Scully Thanksgiving sex headcanon?
"I'm going to die," she mumbles, her eyes half-lidded in tryptophanic stupor.
Mulder and Scully are stuffed after dinner.
@flukemen?/@pinebluffvariants/scienceandmysticism/contradictiontonature's (Ao3) Tie (prompt #1)
“Hello?”
“You know it’s me.” He did. “What are you doing?”
“I’m shopping. And I hope you’re using your bluetooth.” He could tell she was driving from the white noise over the sound of her breathing.
Mulder uses Scully's expertise to pick out a tie.
@hemisphaeric's (Ao3)
"Mulder you need new clothes"
The next day they decided to go into town and do some shopping, after Scully had had to tell Mulder for the tenth time he needed clothes and that no, he couldn’t wear those old ones just to seduce her.
Scully helps Mulder pick out new suits for his new job.
Let me carry some of the pain for you
Suddenly warm hands were touching him but he didn’t react. He couldn’t react, feeling so distant from everything. Scully was speaking, he recognized her voice, but not her words, those were like a white noise in the back of his head, which was so loudly screaming.
“I am better Scully, for real” he didn’t realize he had started talking at first, but he couldn’t stop, tears fogging up his vision.
Mulder panics, thinking Scully will leave him again.
touch.
Things had changed again in the last period though, she had come home; she had been spending time there with him more and more frequently. He understood her necessity to take things slowly, to test the territory before diving in head first, but he felt ready for it.
Mulder is glad to have Scully back.
Mulder, Scully and Elon Musk
She pushed him away and swatted at his arm. “You woke me up early to talk about Elon Musk??”
Mulder wakes Scully early for Elon's rocket news.
grumpysimon's Morse Code
He asks you for a pen. The genius always loses things. Your coffee comes and he spills a little on the napkin. He taps on the table. Morse code, maybe. You’re too tired to figure out what he’s saying to you in secret. You say his name and that smile is more crooked than ever.
Scully secretly loves Mulder's obsessive passion.
@baronessblixen/Baroness_Blixen's
Belong
He closes his eyes and counts. What will it be, he wonders. The sound of a car or their creaky door?
Another minute passes before he hears the soft squeak behind him.
Mulder tells Scully he's "done okay without her."
A few months after they're back on the x-files, Mulder's notices that his neck and shoulders are sore.
Mulder feels better and promises - with a wink - to do the same for her, she just needs to ask. She doesn't ask but Mulder knows her feet are sore a few days later, after hours of walking around. He silently starts massaging her feet while consorting in his hotel room, half-empty take-out containers on the bed next to them....
Mulder doesn't replace his chair-- which is just fine, because Scully becomes his masseuse.
Mulder giving Scully a foot massage
“Exactly. My feet hurt and I need a break. I’m not…” She trails off again as she massages her foot. 
“Not young anymore?” Mulder offers and her head shoots up like a rocket, her eyes shooting daggers. 
“Not used to it anymore.”
Post Ghoulie Scully's high heels finally catch up to her.
There's No Place Like Home (Ao3)
He loves her stubbornness. Once, she told him that she fell in love with him because he was stubborn. Well. That was the pot calling the kettle black. No one is as stubborn as his Scully. 
AU-- Nothing Lasts Forever Mulder brings an injured Scully home.
Growing Old (with You) (Ao3)
“Just wait til you’re my age,” he jokes.
“55 looks good on you.” She proves her point with a kiss on his nose. “I can only hope to look as good as you when I turn 55.”
“You will. And I will remind you of it. If I’m invited to your birthday, that is.”
“You’re always invited to my birthday.”
Scully drops in for Mulder's 55th, assuring him his aging concerns are overblown.
A Study in Chemistry
"I didn't know you cared for this kind of movie, Scully." Mulder, sprawling on her bed, in her motel room, looks slightly disgusted at the small screen where two generic actors share a truly boring, less than passionate kiss in a typical, cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.
"I don't," she says, returning her attention to the case report they're supposed to be working on. Despite his words, Mulder's eyes are glued to the movie and Scully can't help but smile.
Mulder and Scully bridge the gap between them-- and all because of Hallmark and memories.
Surprises Are Best Served Ice-Cold - Chapter 1
They both start towards each other at the same time, laughing.
“Mulder, I don’t remember how to stop,” she says, trying to get her skates under control.
“I’ve got you,” he says calmly and she hopes he’s right because she loses her balance, stumbles the last few steps towards him and crashes right into his chest, knocking him to the ground.
Mulder surprises Scully with a frozen over lake for Christmas.
A Day in May (Ao3)
Mulder puts on cheesy Christmas music and turns down the lights, creating a mood. They share a cup of sugary hot cocoa with mini marshmallows and whipped cream. When Scully raises her eyebrows at the cream, Mulder dips a finger in and deposits a blob on her nose.
“Live a little, Scully.”
And she does.
Mulder forgoes sleep to help Scully decorate their tree on Christmas Eve.
Night Out
"I can't breathe." Mulder is pouting. She wants to be angry with him - all of this is his own fault, after all - but he looks so miserable and yet so adorable that she feels sympathetic. She strokes his cheek and smiles at him.
"I'll make you make some soup."
"Are you sure I'm not dying?" he asks again, coughing. She offers him some tea and he sips it noisily.
Mulder gets sick after a night of Squatchin.
@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk​‘s (Ao3) 
post-Plus One
“You reasoned your doppelgänger out of existence,” he says flatly. She smiles against his bare shoulder, nodding.
“She was a very reasonable woman.”
He laughs softly, the rumble of it caressing her cheek. 
Post Plus One Mulder and Scully catch a few winks.
ficlet; twenty-six years
On her side of the desk, he has procured for her a plain blue baseball cap, a skinny caramel macchiato, and a not-skinny blueberry muffin.
She sits down as he hums and types away at something, taking a bite of the muffin and putting the cap on her head.
Scully always guesses which anniversary Mulder is celebrating.
fluff 🤢
They’re packing up the basement just one last time. They both learned early in life that saying goodbye is so much easier when it’s a choice, and the moment holds no bitterness, no fear.
Post Revival Scully finds flowers she'd once given Mulder in their basement office.
@myassbrokethefall's untitled rm9sbg93zxjz post-ep
Scully had chanced to see a picture of a blobfish on the internet some months ago and he wasn't sure he had ever, in their years and years together, seen her laugh so hard. It was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, frankly, watching the outsizedly hysterical reaction of Dana Scully MD, his serious scientist partner, to a picture of a lumpy, slimy, theatrically frowning fish on the internet. He had brought it up at every opportunity for weeks, renamed the wireless network at the house Blobfish Cove, found a way to work a reference to it into a meeting with Skinner, once printed out a picture of it and left it on Scully’s pillow, and watched in utter delight as she got the helpless giggles every single time. (Even the Skinner time. He hadn't even asked, just looked wearily at some point behind their heads for a few seconds before sighing and continuing on.)
AU-- Robot episode Mulder dreamed up the whole thing.
@onpaperfirst's (Ao3) Honey Hi
The doors slid open and Mulder wrangled a cart from the corral.
“They set up the little rooms and it makes you feel like you’re at home,” she said. “It dulls your senses. You forget you’re in public. And all of a sudden you’re in the middle of a fight about which rug matches the couch.”
“Let’s not fight in Ikea, Scully. It’s so bourgeois.”
Part II to Home, Home, Mulder and Scully's romantic life is examined through the lens of perfectly balanced humor... and their IKEA trip.
@ghostbustermelanieking's (Ao3) bearing north (Ao3)
“The cops out front will stop him,” Mulder says comfortingly.
She nods. Her skull is still pounding, but she feels limp in his arms, safe. “I tried to fight him off,” she says. “I almost did. But he got angry and shoved me into the pool. I hit my head.”
Mulder takes Scully home after she's injured while pursuing a perp.
"You’re beautiful, you know that?” (Ao3)
She turns her eyes up to meet his, burning blue eyes in the night. “You’re… all I have left now, Mulder.” Names are left unsaid between them, but they all register in his brain, like a knife. “I think my leaving was for the best, but I’m ready to come back. You’re my family, Mulder.”
Scully proposes to her Mulder.
@settle-down-frohike's Headcanon: It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota.
It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota. She was flipping through a dossier and he was dozing, as per usual. She heard a mumbled version of her name and threw a distracted “Hm?” his way without glancing up. “Scully.” Firmer, more forceful this time. She looked over, annoyed, and spat “What Mu-“ and realized he was still asleep, but fitfully so.
My Struggle II Scully hopes she can comfort Mulder once more.
@lilydalexf/LilydaleXF 's My Andromeda
He looks back at the road and answers honestly, "I didn't watch many shows. The ones I really wanted to see I wasn't allowed to watch. Except after excessive begging."
"And on nights you could successfully sneak into the TV room after your parents fell asleep." It's a statement, not a question.
"You know me so well, Scully."
Mulder and Scully imagine a night of stargazing.
Eternity Awaits
"Mulder…. We need to go to bed."
"You don't want to freeze together?"
"Not on this decrepit couch I don't."
Post This Mulder and Scully discuss their eternal conversations.
Apostrophic/@mappingthexfiles's
This
Mulder said Push a third time and they both groaned with the effort of heaving the massive piece another three feet, barricading it firmly against the bedroom door.
“What does this,” he gasped, “remind you of?”
Scully, drawing in deep gulps of air, pushed herself up on her elbows, propped on the edge of the chest. She did not say the fleeting thought that had gone through her head: maybe it was not a bad thing Mulder had not been present at the birth of their child.
“Um,” Scully said.
“Yeah,” Mulder said. Panting out, “Towers of furniture.”
Post This Mulder and Scully move their furniture back into place.
The Scully Treehouse of Horror
The automatic taps don’t turn on and off for him. He’s invisible to its sensors. The alarm, on the other hand, blares every time he walks in the door. Sometimes, even, once he’s inside the door and has been for some time. He’ll get up at night for a drink of water and Scully gets jarred out of postcoital bliss by the klaxon siren of intruder alert, intruder alert, Mulder cursing at the sink in the kitchen, yelling for Scully....
If she yells back for him to punch in the code, he does the wrong birthdate or botches the spelling of Queequeg. More often than not, she pads out in bare feet, tying her robe, entering the right code, filling the glass with cold water, sleepily herding a grumbling Mulder back to the warm bed.
Scully's house hates Mulder; and she loves him all the more for it.
Lapsed_Scholar's Wake-Up Calls
On their way into work, his phone rings. It’s just a wrong number, and the other commuters don’t really take any notice, but Scully arches her eyebrow.
At her questioning look, “Do you recognize this theme?”
“Vaguely. Should I?”
“It’s our theme song, Scully! And I think it suits us. Kind of spooky.” A beat. “Don’t you remember our movie?”
If possible, her eyebrow climbs higher.
Mulder always ratted he and Scully out to people-- and still does now, years and years later.
@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys's
Prompt: ballet slippers, chocolate pudding in a can, Wyoming
It was like a Carlton Varney fever dream; like a brothel with aspirations. Mulder actually paused in the doorway and leaned back out to double check the address number on the side of the house.
“Wow,” Scully said, daintily setting down her suitcase a few feet inside the door. She wanted to make a joke, but Mulder looked appalled.
Mulder books a truly terrible vacation spot.
Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 12
“I want something I can’t make.”
It was Day 18 of self-isolation and if you looked at quarantine like the stages of grief, they had rolled easily past panic and guilt, skipped loneliness altogether and were deep in the grip of isolation.
Scully shot him a look.
Mulder and Scully are sick and tired of COVID quarantine.
Prompt: Mulder & Scully vacation Christmas/Hanukah at the Quonochontaug cabin post season 11
“When was the last time you stayed here?” she asked, wrinkling her sensitive nose at the smell of dust, of mildew.
One suitcase on the floor at his feet, one still in his hand, Mulder closed the door behind him, his face ponderous. “Overnight?” he clarified. “I think I was nineteen?”
Post Revival Mulder and Scully spend the New Years in the old Mulder summer home.
outsquatchin94's Joy to You and Me
“Those hipsters… But Scully, that was such a look. Also, I hate to break this to you, but I’m quite sure it’s in the back spare room somewhere in a box.”
For a moment, he thinks she’ll spring off the couch and go find the offending object. She doesn’t though, she only smiles a little.
“I think we turned out okay in the end, even without the sleeping bags.” And Mulder has to agree with her.
Mulder and Scully discuss her old jacket.
@msrafterdark/msrafterdark's A concept : slow dancing on an ill lit front porch late in the evening while it’s thundering and maybe just starting to rain?
When they’re like this again, as though no time has passed, the pleasure of the familiarity is so good it almost hurts her. To have him well again, to be safe and wanted and in his arms is only made sweeter by the fact that the knocks and falls they have taken ultimately only made them stronger.
Mulder and Scully, the Unremarkable House and dancing.
@tofuttim's Comfort and Chaos (Ao3)
The rain pelted relentlessly against the windows of the small cabin. The night air was cold, but inside the cabin, a fire and a shared bed with Mulder kept her warm. The sound of the storm thrusted her thoughts back to the beginning. 
The beginning of forever.
Scully asks Mulder what he remembers about their first case.
@defnotmeyo's (Ao3) The Cost of Living is Just Right
The beds are wrapped in white and light grey sheets with sky blue pillow cases on the spare pillows. The tables all look like something you would have seen on the Jetsons.  
It takes a bit of time for Mulder to feel comfortable at Scully's apt.
Ingot Silver
“Birthday time, huh? We could go uh,” he licked some sauce off his finger as he moved a dish over to the sink, “we could go squatchin’.” He turned and winked at her.
Mulder learned plans an evening dinner for he and his Scully.
the “before i even needed glasses” line
Then, on days he doesn’t hate himself (and those days are multiplying and growing closer together all the time), he remembers he has a son, healthy and alive. He has the love of his life and while she’s not home yet, her toothbrush is back in his bathroom.
Post Cathedral episode Mulder isn't letting his homie get away ever again.
It really looks like Mulder when youre seeing two of everything.
“Mulder… you… you hurled a raccoon down our stairs.”
He shrugs, sheepish as ever.
“Like… you hurled him.”
“It was for Daggoo!”
A raccoon holds the Mulder-Scully household hostage.
I always laugh at that bit in detour where mulder is like “if ur lucky u get seventy-five (75) yrs. if ur rly lucky u get eighty
She refrains from rolling her eyes, instead slides in front of him and slinks an arm around him, patting that soft of his oblique threatening to turn into a love handle.
“Charlie has a decent head of hair,” Mulder mumbles.
“Charlie is four years younger. And you made it passed 50, Mulder. You won.”
Scully reassures Mulder he still looks gooooooooood.
BONUS (HAD TO INCLUDE THESE FOR THE MSR)
@monikafilefan/MonikaFileFan's
Language of Love: Prompts of Angst and Romance - Chapter 6
A sudden rise in emotion crests in her throat when she sees the wondrous look of awe and admiration seize the love of her life.
It’s the exact look she saw grace is face eighteen years ago.
“Mulder…” she whispers, raking her fingers through his silky hair as he grins up at her with a trembling chin.
Post Revival Mulder feels his baby move during the witching hour.
39 and 82 from the prompt list 😁/Just Breathe
“She’s here and she’s beautiful, honey, she’s just—”
“What, Mulder?” Scully shot up onto her elbows with her heart in her throat. “She’s just what?”
“It’s fine. She’s fine, Scully. She just looks like a he.”
Her jaw dropped. “What are you—are you sure?” Their slippery, pink baby covered in layers of vernix and blood mewled in protest as Mulder lifted the tiny bundle away from the comfort of his warm chest and pointed wide-eyed between its legs.
Mulder and Scully and unexpectedly fast Halloween baby makes a chaotically competent three.
RoseThornhill's
Spooky Mulder: The Revenge
Excited dad!Mulder wants a spooky theme for his Halloween daughter's name.
Alice is a Punk Rocker
Mulder, Scully, and their Halloween baby are happy together, despite a few bumpy patches.
@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s Renewal
She tries to shift in the bed, to touch him too, and he stops and pulls back.  “Don’t try to sit up,” he says.  “They made me promise I wouldn’t disturb you.”  He’s trying to smile at her through the tears in his eyes.  “You’re all right,” he repeats.  “Please don’t scare me like that again.  Not ever again.”
Post Revival Scully loses a lot of blood during delivery, which helps convince Jackson to stay with his family and new sister a bit longer.
Thanks for reading~
Enjoy!
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ellalalala · 2 days
Text
Lover, be good to me
Something small I wrote at the bus station to quell my boredom! Dottore 🫶
Dottore held his breath as your hands moved to his mask. It wasn't something he had ever allowed you to do before - that sort of trust and vulnerability had been lost to him for many, many years - but you were different. You were the closest thing to perfection that he knew of; who was he to continue pushing you away?
His heart hammered against his chest. What would you think of his true face? Dottore's ruby eyes no longer bore the fury of his younger segments, but what of his scars? He had long accepted them - refusing to erase them even when faced with the opportunity. The marred skin on his forehead and the bridge of his nose was hardly something anyone had admired before; Dottore still vividly remembered the contempt with which the lowly scholars of the Akademiya would look at him. Surely, you wouldn't be the same?
Your fingers gently unclasped his beak-shaped mask. When your eyes met his, you smiled softly, and Dottore couldn't fathom it.
How could you? How could you not recognize the monstrosity before you?
He let you cup his jaw, trail his cheekbone with your thumb.
"Charming," you murmured, "your eyes are akin to trishiraite."
The comparison felt a tad ironic, but Dottore hardly cared; not when your eyes glimmered with so much affection.
All for him.
He found it hard to believe - that he could be anything but disgusting to you. You, who's visage easily rivaled that of the gods. Beautiful and delicate you - a Sumeru rose yet to be trampled by the rishboland tiger.
"You're beautiful."
"Hardly," he muttered.
You shook your head, "no, really. I fail to see what you find so terrible about yourself."
Had he been any younger, any more foolish, Dottore would have protested; you were wrong, wholly and entirely wrong, but Dottore could play pretend for a moment.
When would the other shoe drop?
Instead of whatever horrible thing Dottore imagined you would do, you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Corners of your soft lips tilted upwards, you gazed at him with more love than he could comprehend.
You were careful not to touch his scars, but your gaze lingered anyway. Dottore felt naked - predator turned prey. He wanted to push you away; the urge would never really leave, he reckoned. Centuries spent in solitude had affected him in ways that could never be changed. Though, the tender way in which you brushed his hair from his face made Dottore reconsider.
His eyes closed when you leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your lips found his nose, his cheeks, his jaw - not an inch of his face left untouched. Dottore drew you closer by the waist, lost in the affection you gave him.
"My Zandik," you said softly. "Beautiful Zandik."
Beautiful he could never be, Dottore thought, not when you stood before him. He thought you blinded by your emotions - your words were entirely influenced by your preexisting affection for him. Had he been but a stranger to you now, would you still have seen him as anything more than a monster? Would you have admired him anyway?
Perhaps. After all, you were unlike the others; delicate and pure and sweet, untainted by those around you.
"I prefer you without the mask," you said, "please, wear it less around me."
Dottore hummed, feigning doubt. Deep down, he knew he would abide by your words without a second thought.
"If that is what you want."
With each kiss you bestowed upon him, Dottore could almost believe it - that he really, truly was worthy of your tenderness after all.
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saintmuses · 18 hours
Text
❝𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚❞
Pairing:
Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary:
Neil had spent all night watching his girlfriend unintentionally flirted with Jonathan, and he couldn’t stand it.
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Warning(s): SMUT. Non-con/Dub-con (at the end). Both POVs. P in V. Forced breeding kink. Jealous!Neil like he is irrational. Soft!Dark!Neil. Daddy kink (so sorry). Minors, dni! Note: the reader is coquette, but only in clothing aesthetic aspect because she is shy.
Word Count: 3.2k
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When the store was finally locked and the street was quiet, Neil took her hand in his, making a beeline for his house.
They barely spoke as they walked. Every few minutes, he gave a suspicious glare at Y/N, but he was trying to hold in his anger.
Finally, they got to his place, and he dragged her inside with a firm grip. He was waiting for the right time to let out all of his emotions. 
And he might just do that tonight.
“Neil?” She questioned him. she eluded innocence, and it was in the way of how she talked or how she acted. Always blushing and always stuttering. It was what made him attracted to her, gorgeous girl in pretty baby doll dresses and milk maid tops with skirts or cute jeans. He was rarely angry with her which was why he knew she was profoundly confused by his behavior.
Neil didn't answer her question. Instead, he slammed the door behind them, and with one swift motion, pinned her against the wall in the foyer by the stairs.
He pressed his nose almost aggressively against hers, his eyes narrowing, his lips curling into a snarl. "I saw everything," he hissed. "You were getting too close with him, weren't you?"
All his insecurities and jealousy finally bubbled to the surface, making him feel angrier than he had ever been. He had felt like Jonathan was better looking than him. "Were you guys intimate with each other?"
“Never!” She gasped, looking into his eyes because he was so close to her face, with his nose pressing against hers. She was confused on why he would ask that. She never even had sex with anyone until she met Neil. 
"I don't believe you," Neil snapped at her. "You spent so much time with him, and you had so much in common. How am I supposed to believe you two were never intimate with each other?" He pointed out, accusation coated his tone as he curled his fingers into his palms, gritting his teeth. "I'm your boyfriend, not him," he spat. "And you better not forget that."
“Friends can have a lot of things in common and not be intimate!” She argued softly, eyes widening. Realizing he took a step back, she was able to move past him, down the hallway towards his bedroom.
He knew that was true, friends can have a lot of things in common, but he was beyond rational to think straight. Especially at his thought filled with his fear of losing her.
"Don't you walk away from me!" Neil shouted at her while grabbing her wrist and pulled her towards him. As she was in front of him, he immediately latched onto her waist, refusing to let her go, “look at me when I talk to you.” He hissed with a warning in his gaze, waiting until she was looking at him. “I know you two wanted to be intimate with each other. I can tell just by looking at him and that's what he wants." His grip was beginning to tighten around her waist, his icy eyes staring at her with pure rage.
Her eyes began to widen, him shouting at her with “don’t you walk away from me” and “look at me when I talk to you” had made her tremble slightly in sheer arousal and she didn’t know why it made her wet, but she wasn’t going to let him know at all. She wasn’t even afraid of him either. She didn’t say anything to him, but just staring up at him. Then she managed to slip from his grip and entered his bedroom.
Neil was taken aback when he suddenly felt her slip out of his grip. It was almost like a jolt of adrenaline because it only pissed him off more. He wasn't about to let her get away that easily.
He moved quickly, following her behind as he entered the bedroom and forcefully grabbed her by her waist, and dragged her back to face him. "Don't you ignore me," he said harshly.
His tone is making her thighs feel slightly slick as she grew aroused, it was a good thing he was too angry to see how wet she is from his actions and his tone.
“Stop,” she whispered, hoping he would calm down so she could stop feeling aroused. She did not understand why she felt aroused when he was acting like this.
"I'm not going to let this go, you hear me!?" Neil’s voice raised as if he couldn’t control himself. "You're with me, and no one else. Is that clear?"
His heart was racing, and his mind was on fire and filled with green ooze of jealousy. She was his and there was no way he would let her see other men, that included his friend.
He squeezed her waist even tighter, making her feel uncomfortable. "Look at me! Or do I need to do something to get your attention?"
“I can’t look at you,” she huffed slightly with a soft noise in her voice, looking away from him to the side.
Neil was frustrated; she just had to make things difficult for him, didn't she? "Don't you dare look away." He grabbed her chin with his fingers and forcefully turned her to face him. "What did I tell you? Look at me."
Her eyes hadn’t met his which only served him with increasing rage. His face contorted into a snarl, and the veins on his neck were prominent from how enraged he was. "Look into my eyes!"
“I can’t!” She burst out with a soft whine, refusing to look at him. In response, he settled for releasing her waist, then immediately grappling for her wrist instead.
"Why not?" He demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening even more as anger overwhelmed him. "Is it because I'm too scary and intimidating for you?” He asked, with a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is it because you know you're guilty of wanting to be intimate with Jonathan?" He was so angry that he wanted to tear something apart. "Stop ignoring me and look at me!"
The biggest mistake was listening to him because when she looked at him and she was purely sopping wet. With a frustrated cry, her free hand latched onto his hand that wasn’t holding her wrist and dragged his fingers under her dress and into her underwear to feel her wetness to reveal how hot and bothered she was over his behavior. As soon she pushed his fingers and felt them touching her cunt, “daddy!” She cried out, and it was the first time she ever called him that.
Neil’s eyes darkened; his breath got caught in his throat as soon as he heard her say the word “daddy”.
All of the emotions vanished in that moment, his anger and jealousy were gone. His heart was pounding, his thoughts racing. He was still holding her by the wrist, and yet…he couldn’t feel any other emotion. 
He was just stunned. All he could see was her, and all he could feel was her cunt.
She mewled and began to rut her hips onto his hand. “Daddy, please.” She gasped, begging as her fingers tightened around his.
Neil inhaled sharply as he heard her desperate plea. It was as if he felt a switch go off in him. 
One second, he was wanting to argue with her, and the next he was completely taken over by this primal desire with a need to claim her. 
It was like she had activated some sort of animalistic instinct in him. 
“Daddy? You want daddy?” Neil asked in a breathless voice. His eyebrows were raised, his eyes darting back and forth between his wrist with the hand that disappeared into her dress and her face.
“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, eyes wide open in innocence and arousal.
Neil’s mind was clouded in lust. All of his thoughts were of this innocent and helplessly needy girl, calling him daddy. 
She was dripping with arousal, and all she wanted was him; the man that she loved. 
This was a dream come true to him.
He dropped her wrist that was still bounded in his hand, and ran his hand through her hair, looking deep into her eyes. "Call me that again."
“Daddy,” she said breathlessly.
Neil was completely consumed by desire, his mind racing, and his body trembling with excitement. He withdrew his fingers from her underwear. "Good girl."
He took her face in his hands and kissed her, pushing her against the wall and wrapping his arms around her. He was kissing her so passionately and aggressively, as if he needed a release, and she was the only one who could give it to him. 
The feeling was unlike anything he ever felt before. He wanted to consume her entirely.
“Oh,” she moaned into his devouring mouth.
Neil kept on kissing her, his hands running through her hair. He felt intoxicated by her scent, and her taste.
Her noises sent shivers down his body, driving his desire even higher. "You're so delicious." He sighed pathetically, he needed her, needed her more than anything in the entire world. He was obsessed with her.
“Daddy.” She mumbled inaudibly, reaching for his bulge through his jeans and gripping it desperately. He gasped into her mouth, huffing aggressively as he withdrew from her lips before picking her up and throwing her onto the bed.
Neil's primal instinct took over in that moment, and he was completely consumed by this sudden, violent lust. He kissed her even more fiercely, using his slim muscles to pin her down. 
He needed to taste her and touch her, to consume her. And she was the only one who could give him what he wanted. 
Her moans and whimpers sent shivers up his spine, his lust growing with every movement she made.
She gasped as he dragged her dress away from her body by the straps to reveal her bra and underwear, whimpering when he started to push down, rubbing his hard on against her bare stomach.
Neil's voice was raw and full of passion as he answered her moan, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "I love you. You're my good girl."
His lips pressed against her neck, his hands running through her hair. He was so intoxicated by the smell and taste of her. "I need you, baby."
His lips returned to her mouth, his tongue touching hers in the most intense kiss he'd ever experienced. "Call me daddy again,” he mumbled incoherently into her mouth.
“I love you too, daddy.”
Neil felt like his body was on fire, his emotions spinning out of control, and all he could do now was take her. "Good girl."
His jaw was straining the moment his tongue pressed deeper into her mouth, his lips devouring hers like he was starved. 
He kept on kissing her like he was trying to consume her. His hands were all over her body, caressing every single part of her skin.
He couldn’t think straight anymore. *"I need more.” His lust was growing with every second he spent touching her. He needed her. He wanted her.
She mewled when she felt him on her stomach, rubbing his bulge against her skin once again.
Neil felt like he was going crazy. He couldn’t handle the excitement any longer. 
He needed more. 
So, he maneuvered himself off her body and stood up from the bed and began to remove his clothes.
"Baby," Neil murmured the endearment softly, his voice dripping in excitement. He was staring right at her and her lips, her face, everything about her that made her perfect. 
His hands were already wrapping around her body as he returned to the bed, pulling her closer.
"Do you want me, baby?" He murmured the question as he got on top of her, straddling her hips.
She shuddered in pleasure when she felt his hot and heavy cock on top of her stomach, skin on skin. “Yes.” She moaned.
"Good girl."
That was all Neil could say at the moment. Any other words had failed him. He could think only of her, and her only.
Neil's hands ran through her hair as his body rubbed against hers, touching her in all the right places. His lips were kissing her all over, and he was taking his time in making sure she was feeling good.
He knew she loved the teasing, and he was going to give her exactly what she wanted.
She whimpered when he started grinding down on her stomach, feeling his thick cock dragging across her skin slightly as he pushed down his hips in a slight rocking motion.
Neil felt like he was in such a euphoric rush. He was completely consumed by the feeling of holding her in his arms, her body against his. She was his whole world right now, her every breath, her every heartbeat.
His kisses were gentle but firm and passionate. His hands were caressing her everywhere, but they were never too rough.
He was in love with her.
She whimpered when he touched her sensitive nipples, brushing his thumbs across them. Before releasing them so he could scoot backwards to get her dress and underwear off.
Neil's hands brushed against her body, and he was taking his time as his mouth was all over her neck, shoulders, and hands, and his hands kept running through her hair, caressing every inch of her. 
He was enjoying this so much that he was losing track of time. He didn't want this to end. He never wanted this to end. 
Neil was obsessed with this girl. His girl.
Then he finally placed himself between her legs, settling one of his arms next to her head and his other hand was sliding down between them.
Lifting her legs around his waist, “please daddy.” She begged quietly.
Neil's eyes widened at her words, and his breathing hitched in response. He wrapped his hand around his girth, aiming it at her pussy.
"Baby,” he cooed softly as his body was trembling in excitement. He was ready to take her. He took a sharp inhale, and then-
She’d let out a wail, in pleasure when he slammed his cock into her. Her hands scrambled to find something to hold onto, but she couldn’t.
Neil's eyes were filled with passion and lust. He was in a primal state, a state in which all he could feel and hear and see was her.
He started thrusting into her roughly. She moaned, and she felt her hands being grabbed by his and she felt relief. “Oh, daddy.” She breathed, feeling his cock dragging against her walls made her whine even louder. 
Neil huffed almost whiningly, feeling himself being consumed by lust. He couldn't hold back; he wanted her so badly. It was as if his blood was boiling with lust beyond his comprehension.
Neil's body was drenched in sweat, and his skin was flushed with a red tint. He was exhausted; exhausted from intense and relentless movements of pounding into her, feeling her tight pussy on his cock.
His heart was pounding, his lips were swollen, and his ears were ringing.
But he didn't want it to end. He wasn't done yet. He still wanted more.
He reached for her jaw with his fingers, and she gasped when he forced her mouth to open then she realized what he wanted her to do so she obeyed completely and closed her eyes in sheer pleasure when he’d spit in her mouth.
Neil was completely lost in a daze, his focus completely on her. In this moment, he felt unstoppable. 
He felt like nothing could stand in his way when it came to her. He was going to give her everything that she wanted, and he was going to do everything in his power to make her feel good. 
She was his, and no one was going to take her from him.
The pleasure of the climax finally washed over her, making her moan, and she could tell he was nearing his end as well due to the stuttering of his hips as his pace became irregular. Her lust-addled brain was clear when she realized he did not place a condom on his cock. “Neil, you-you need to pull out.” She whispered stammering, trying to push his torso away.
Neil was caught off-guard when she said that, breaking him from the haze he had been feeling for so long. He pulled away slightly, his breathing shaky and heart pounding out of his chest.
He stared into her eyes, panting slightly before shaking his head. "No." That was all he could say, his voice sounding hoarse and rough. "I'm not pulling out."
She looked at him with wide eyes as panic filled in her irises, “I’m not on birth control! You have to pull out before you could get me pregnant.”
"I don't care."
The words left Neil’s mouth before he even had time to think them through. He felt a sudden wave of lust and passion wash over him, and he couldn’t resist the feeling as he started slamming his hips into her, shoving his cock back and forth in her pussy.
Neil was completely and utterly lost in a daze, and all he could think about was her. He couldn’t think about consequences right now, he was just following his instincts. "I don’t care." He repeated again, his voice shaky but loud. "I'm going to give you a baby.”
She was shaking her head, “Neil.” She begged, trying to push his abdomen away, trying to stop him.
"No." Neil said harshly, refusing to be pushed away as he gave a brutal thrust. "You're mine, and I'm keeping you. You don't get to leave." He sounded desperate and forceful as he pushed his body back against hers. "No one is going to take you away from me."
Neil was no longer in his own control; he was consumed by his desire and lust.
She tried really hard to get him to pull out, but the battle was lost. She threw her head back as her hands were dragged above her head by him to prevent her from pushing him away. “Neil.” She all but whined when he started adding more force behind his thrusts .
She felt him deeply as he held her against the mattress. She couldn’t even try to wiggle if she could because he had a tight grip on her, holding her down as he took her.
Neil was so lost in himself that he didn't hear her, not until it was already too late. Her voice sounded so distant to him, a faint noise in the back of his head. He couldn't hear anything but his heart beating in his ears, pumping in and out.
He felt desperate, and his movement grew more aggressive with every second. He wasn't in control anymore; he wasn't in control of himself. His only thought was to let himself go.
"No one will ever touch you again." He spat. "You're mine."
Neil felt like his world was collapsing, all his desires and lust being suddenly sucked away by the feeling of pleasure. Time stood still in that moment, his body moving uncontrollably in the most intense and deep release he had ever felt. 
His voice became nothing to a hoarse, broken “fuck.”
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moon1833 · 2 days
Text
BACKTALK - TSUKISHIMA KEI
Warning: Smut, Aged up characters (18+), Female reader, semi-rough sex, degradation, hate sex but not really
If you like the prompt of this story check out my wattpad :) have something like it on my page @blueish__3
Tsukishima didn't know how much he loved back talk until you did it. Sure, he's heard it from his teammates or his friends before, but it was different when it came to you.
He didn't know if it was the soft tilt of your head when you looked up at him, or the cocky smile on your lips, or the sweet, sarcastic tone you'd give him whenever you came up with a retort.
You were so quick with it too, it was like you didn't even have to think before coming up with some witty comment that had him wanting to shut you up in a very particular way.
You knew what you were doing, and so did he. The bickering turned to flirting, quickly. Both of you competing to see who could fluster the other more. That's when Tsukishima started winning.
"Do you ever shut up?" He asked you one night, already on edge from the volume of the celebratory house party his teammate had insisted on throwing.
"I think you'd be way too bored if I did." You replied, a smirk tugging on your lips.
"Please, I can think of ten different things your mouth is better at doing." He watched your expression switch to faint surprise, and a not so hidden look of arousal.
"You're all talk." You say back, but it's lacking the usual wit you usually have.
"Come on, at least try to sound convincing." Tsukishima relishes in your reaction. "It's not as fun when you don't even believe yourself."
You roll your eyes, sudden boldness rolling through you. "You're not going to do shit. You wouldn't know what to do with me if you had the chance."
"Oh yeah?" His smirk grows, but his eyes darken.
You kept your composure until he was pushing you into the bathroom, face barely an inch from yours. "How far do you want to push me?"
"You still haven't done anything yet." Your lips almost graze his as you speak.
There's a second of silence as you finish your sentence before Tsukishima's mouth is on yours. Your hands are on his shoulders, and his are on your waist. The kiss is messy and deep, and you're pressing your body into his subconsciously.
The feeling of your warmth sets an eagerness in him, picking you up by the back of your thighs without warning and sitting you on the edge of the bathroom sink. You make a sound of surprise that turns into a moan when you feel him between your legs.
He's kissing down your neck, fingers slowing caressing your thigh, getting dangerously close. It's a warning, but more than that it's a tease. You know he's not going to do anything unless you ask for it.
"Please." You mumble, trying to move his wrist to your clit.
"Use your words." He coos.
"Just touch me already, Kei." You tried to sound annoyed, but it came out as a plea.
Either way, it worked. Tsukishima dipped his hand under your skirt, feeling the cloth of your underwear. Even the light pressure of the pads of his fingers rubbing circles around your clit had a small moan escape you.
In one motion, he moves your panties to the side and slips his middle finger inside of you, catching you off guard. He's kissing you again, but you think it's partially to keep you quiet as you yelp in surprise.
His fingers are long, you know that. He's not even halfway in and he's already reaching a spot you've never been able to reach by yourself. You can feel how wet you are when he's slowing sliding his finger in and out of your entrance, and in between your heavily breathing you can hear it.
You're tempted to insult him again, but before your can think of anything to say, he speeds up his pace, finger fucking you. He's knuckle deep in you, your pussy sucking him in so tight he doesn't think he'd be able to fuck you.
You didn't think something as juvenile as fingering could feel so good, but when he adds another finger, your orgasm is coming on embarrassingly fast. His other hand's covering your mouth, muffling the sounds you couldn't hold back.
You're gushing around his fingers as you finish, grasping onto the bathroom sink until your knuckles are white. You barely have time to catch your breath before he's pulling you off the counter, turning you around so you're facing the mirror.
Your makeup is smudged and you're red in the face. Behind you, Tsukishima looks all too pleased with himself. "Think you can take it?" He taunts.
"Of course I can." You say, but you're practically gasping.
He slides his hand down up your back, bending you over. You hardly hear him fumbling with his belt before you feel his tip at your entrance, tracing your clit and teasing your hole. He's sliding back and forth, and you're trying to chase your hips to feel something.
"Be patient." He mumbles, kissing the skin under your ear as he starts to stretch you out.
Every time you thought he was fully in, he kept going. By the time you could feel his pelvis against your ass, you were whimpering at the feeling.
"Aw, where'd that pretty mouth go?" He coos, smirking as he moved your hair off your back, wrapping it around his fist.
"Fuck you." You grunt, a high pitched whine escaping you.
Tsukishima snaps his hips against you, and you cry out. You try putting your head down as he starts to slide in and out of you, but he pulls you up by your hair.
"Look at how pretty you look like this." He mocks, and you can barely hear him over how dizzy he's making you feel.
Your tits are spilling out of your top with each thrust, and you give up on containing your sounds. After a particularly loud moan, he stops, pulling out and turning you back around.
"Do you ever shut up?" He taunts, but from here you can see he's fighting to keep his composure.
He spreads your legs, pushing into you again. For the first time, you take a look at his dick, and suddenly you understood why he walked around with the unwavering confidence that he had.
It somehow felt bigger when you were looking at him sliding in and out of you. He covered your mouth with his hand again, speeding up his pace until it had you almost crying.
You came around his dick, wrapping your legs around his torso as you did. His thrusts got sloppier, spilling into the condom as he rode out his own orgasm with breathy moans.
You leaned against him practically collapsing into his chest as he slowed to a stop, closing your eyes for a moment. Tsukishima adjusted your clothes as you caught your breathe, kissing your shoulder.
"Take it back yet?" He whispered.
"You are so annoying."
98 notes · View notes
lightlycareless · 2 days
Note
omgggg, that Toji x reader (*plus* Naoya) was incredibleee, ignore me if you want, I know you made Toji chosing to keep distance from reader and Megumi permanently BUT what if one day he ends up finally seeing Megumi, either personally or by pictures/videos 🥺 We know Megumi it's the spitted image of him, I mean, Gojo's face when he saw him for the first time said it all 😅 And also knowing his baby has the Ten Shadows technique (I cant stop thinking about how proud he was in the canon manga/anime 🥺 he always KNEW from the start Megumi was blessed/gifted, since his first breath, the fact Toji named him is not random) making the entire Zenin clan eat their shit
Heya anon!!
I'm so glad you liked it heheheheheheh a oneshot that I didn't intend to write but it just happened!! aren't we glad it did? lol
I didn't mean to ignore you, I was only focusing on other things first 😅 oof, I still have lots of request to go through, which I plan to do it slowly but surely...
Anyways, I might've not gone down that route, however... why not something angsty? I mean 😏I've had this in my mind so... yeah 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏
Warnings: mentions of infidelity. Pregnancy. Naoya is, unfortunately, a prick. this is the oneshot anon is talking about. 100% read that first hehe. this is an AU from that, so the second part doesn't count??? I guess. excuse the proofreading. also I haven't written toji that much so please excuse my oocness as well ahahahahha :')
Happy reading!
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As much as the three hoped to ignore the bases of your pregnancy, behave as it didn’t rise from an adulterous act, a direct transgression to the principles of the Zen’in, and keep it a secret, it wouldn’t take long before the guilt in each other’s mind began to weight heavy on their mind, ultimately betraying them and revealing the truth to the light, excusing the angered elders to finally get rid of two birds with one stone.
“Where—Where does this accusation even come from?!” You gasp, blood turning cold at the implication—at the notion of the truth. “Do you know the gravity of such words?!”
“Better than you of the act, it seems.” Another accuses. “We were quite aware of the rumors surrounding your ill-fitting behavior, but we never believed it would actually extend to this point!”
“I—I won’t tolerate neither of you disrespecting me!” you cry. “Nor will Naoya for that matter!”
But calling for his aid would no longer prove sufficient, for Naoya, too deep in his own insecurities by that point, had come to the disheartening conclusion that this situation had gotten way out of hand for a simple diversion.
A supposed act of mercy.
He shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place, should’ve respected what you and your marriage represented, what meant to him, and discard his pity for Toji—the man has been alone most of his life, what difference would that make that now?
But he didn’t, he allowed you to go to Toji—no, he handed you over to him, thinking he was doing something right for his cousin, or perhaps something deep inside him was allured by the sick idea of you being with another man and now, he was suffering the consequences.
Consequences he did not like, not one bit—because it got too real for him: you were now pregnant, with Toji’s child, and not his.
And this only highlighted what he considered the pitfalls of this relationship, a strike against his ego and the supposed inability to beget children, a rumor that grew bigger and bigger by each passing day, spreading like wildfire to the point where even outsiders became aware of it.
Which, for a prideful man like Naoya, was only a nightmare.
He loved you, he really did—Naoya never envisioned spending the rest of his life with anyone else…
But he loved his pride more, and when his clan began to actively confront him about it, he couldn’t take it anymore.
And thus….
“…Naoya?”
“This marriage was broken before it even started.” Your husband would say, unexpected words that pierced straight to your heart. “My family advised me well in avoiding you, but I falsely believed I could achieve differently.”
“What—what are you even saying?” you breathe. “What do you mean by—by differently?”
And… where does everything you lived with him stand?
The time you spent with him, the sweet nothings he’d whisper into your ear, to love you both swore to one another, reminding each other that there was no one else that compares…
And that you were the only woman who has ever made him feel this way—loved— and would do everything in the world to make happy…
Was it… all … a lie?
All for… nothing?
Or were you the only one that actually believed the other’s words?
“I cannot look past these transgressions.” Naoya continues. “You’ve left me no choice.”
“But you—you made me do this!” you gasp. “I never—I never wanted to be with anyone else! All this time, my heart only belonged to you!  How could you—how could you abandon me after all we’ve gone through together?!”
Naoya doesn’t say anything else anymore, instead, he simply turns around, exiting the room to leave you in the hands of the vengeful elders who did not hesitate to do what they had long desired—banish you from the estate.
Swiftly yet cruelly, you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you, not even a change of clothes or even money (you didn’t even ask for much, just enough to survive the week) as you were forced to face a new life of your own—alone, pregnant.
Going back to your family was also out of the question; the shame that you’d bring upon their name was one the Zen’in didn’t not waste time to remind them of—at the end, there was only so much your father and siblings could do against the invasive ways of the elders, and perhaps, a part of them deep inside, were also disappointed that you’ve succumbed to such foul thing.
And so, you were tossed onto the street, with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing, whatever you had for savings throughout the years, managed to take it out before either clan could close your account—but most importantly, with a broken heart you believe will never heal, not after the grave wound your husband’s indifference inflicted on it.
The pain you couldn’t even mourn properly due to all the things you had to worry about now.
The first thing you did was search for a place to stay, though getting one was proving to be an almost impossible task.
Thankfully, you were allowed to keep one other thing, maybe it eluded their minds when all this was happening, but you’re not going to question why when it was going to help you pay for a roof.
Naoya’s ring, your wedding ring, was something many would consider expensive, the kind of flashiness expected from a prestigious family like the Zen’in.
You remember a time when any kind of ring would’ve been enough for you to marry him. You didn’t need anything extraordinary to commit your life and heart to him.
That’s nothing but a far cry from what you felt now.
It still hurt to pawn it, but it was the only way you could accommodate yourself and the unborn child inside you, in the only area you could afford with what you got, for even then many suspected that your ring… well, had dubious origins.
When was the last time you even had to worry about the costs of living? Food, clothes, water…?
Many years—it had to; ever since you got together with Naoya, he’s been the one that took care of you.
You just had to say the word and he’d disappear all of your worries—even from the simplest of wants, Naoya indulgingly obliged.
It was a happy life you eventually considered for your child—imagining how happy they’d grow to be without a single worry, solely focusing on what they’ll have to play that day, or how to escape their over doting parents.
A long-gone dream, tossed to the side as a nightmare quickly took its place.
Did Naoya ever mean the words I love you?
Or was he doing all this just to keep you there, complying, just in case someone better came along, just like his clan wished would happen?
There mere thought of his devotion being nothing but an act tightens your heart with sorrow once more, gifting you the tragic notion that perhaps, all this time, you never knew your husband…
Maybe ex-husband, by this point.
All that was left from those moments, the slightest semblance of that marriage was this baby, created from what you thought your unconditional devotion to him, turning out to be your very own downfall.
The only one that would know of these struggles would be your baby, the one to accompany you through the darkest point of your life, hopefully to a brigther dawn.
And yet… you’ve never felt so alone.
Time surprisingly, went quicker than you anticipated, though not as easy as you would’ve wanted.
Life in your new home was still very difficult to get used to, even when it’s been months since… that.
But with the job you managed to get (whatever place hired pregnant women—they’re supposed to be at home, some would say, you didn’t care.) and some extra jujutsu work you did on the side, you managed, enough to give you a, not exactly comfortable, but just enough lifestyle.
As long as you sacrificed all the things you once considered granted and turned them into luxuries: such as warm showers, take out, and the sweets you liked to indulge once in a while; your pregnancy has been horrible because of that, and that’s without considering the medical bills you’re struggling to pay as well.
But if that wasn’t enough, your noisy neighbors presented issues of their own as well.
You’re not going to deny that your presence there was like moths to a flame, starting from your somewhat suspicious acquisition—all cash—of the small house you were living in.
From there, your loneliness, alongside your pregnancy; single mothers were unheard of, or rather, highly criticized, thus, all eyes were on you, down to your smallest movement.
Yet, even then, as annoying as they were, you were ok as long as it meant you never get to see those that hurt you ever again.
However, what you want isn’t necessarily what’s going to happen, and that would be reminded of one fateful night with an unsuspecting knock, just after you were getting ready to go to bed.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to bother you, but it would be the first time someone did so at this hour, and with such insistence that far from worrying you, it made you angrily storm at the entrance, ready to demand who’d be so inconsiderate enough to visit you so late at night!
And you’d get your answer soon enough, in the most shocking, horrifying, if not sorrowful manner you could’ve possibly anticipated, prompting you to close the door as soon as you saw his face, or attempted to, his reflexes much faster than yours.
“Get—get away from me!” you shrieked, hands trembling as you did your best to hold the door shut against his overwhelming strength— but even your husband has admitted that in terms of power, he excels like no one else.
“Y/N—” he breathes, somewhat amused that you’d been able to hold him off as much as you could, though eventually he was able to break free from your grasp and enter your home, you step away from him soon after.
“What are you even doing here?!” you gasp. “No—that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to see you! I’m not going back!”
“I’m not here to take you back” He quickly responds, eyes falling down to your stomach, making his face soften at the subtle bump evident through your clothes—with this sight, he knows he can’t take you back.
“Then—then why are you here, Toji?”
Perhaps Toji needed to see through his own eyes, what the whispers went on about at the estate regarding your absence.
He wasn’t there when it happened, promised himself to be far away from you as soon as your pregnancy was announced to the estate.
Toji would’ve normally taken this opportunity to act on retribution against his family, rub it on their face that the future of the clan came from him, a low life.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do so when you cheerfully paraded around the halls, happy to finally be forming a family with your beloved husband, even though it wasn’t of his making.
For the first time in his life, he thought himself to be too cruel for having planned such atrocities against the only person that has never been rude with him, always welcoming him with a smile on your face, or at least whatever you permitted when not following Naoya around like a lost puppy.
And the baby… well, he won’t deny that he was glad that his child would have a vastly different life from his—with you as his mother, it couldn’t be any other way.
Or so he believed.
Even when promising to keep away, he still attempted to check in on you, especially now that you were pregnant, whenever he had to go to the estate that is. That day was no be no exception, begrudgingly coming back to see what else he could scam out of his family to ensure his living outside.
Toji’s slyly scanned the hallways for your figure, the briefest indication of such, either through your giggle, staff, or even his cousin’s annoying voice—there were moments where he imagined how delightful it must’ve been to have you by his side, instead of Naoya’s; to be receiver of your laughter instead of that man who clearly didn’t deserve you.
But even if it was with him, he still found comfort in the fact that you were around, there.
Not like now, gone from Naoya’s side.
In fact, you were nowhere to be seen! Not with your staff, not eating by the gardens, or even indulging in one of your husband’s idiocies.
Nothing.
And no one had seen you either.
Or more like didn’t want to say, that much became evident when he stomped his way towards a nearby staff member, demanding your whereabouts, only to be responded with a fret falsely feigning ignorance, or foolish diplomacy.
At the prospect of your disappearance, Toji felt his blood run cold, almost like the estate lost whatever little warmth it had, worsening each time he asked another servant, and he’d get the same answer.
The implications behind your absence were growing heavier in his mind, to the point it sunk his heart to his stomach…
And propelled him to the one person who would undoubtedly know where you were.
“Naoya—Where is Y/N?!” Toji commands the moment he sees the heir, the young man instinctively flinched at the sight of his angered cousin, almost as if he knew what was running through his mind and attempted to make a run for it, only to be stopped by the collar, dead on his tracks. “Do not run away, coward! Answer me!”
“She’s—she’s not here anymore.” Is what Naoya manages to squeak, but Toji doesn’t need to be reminded the obvious.
“Where. Is. She.” He hisses, the worst of his assumptions slowly becoming a reality. “What have you done to her?!”
“What—what needed to be done!” Naoya gasps. “I—I couldn’t allow it!”
Toji doesn’t remember much after Naoya told him that the clan decided she was better off on her own—only that the heir was on the floor, bloodied and whimpering while attempting to cover his face, either trying to control the throbbing of his skin, the blood from spilling anywhere else, or perhaps even shame.
No. It couldn’t be the last. To have done something like what he did required a shameless man to do so.
Nonetheless Toji didn’t bother to find out nor to be reprimanded, quick to assert what needed to be done and heading out the estate; he couldn’t even bother cursing those that had done nothing but the worst after the worst, each time a new low, for his mind solely pertained in finding you.
It took him a while to do so, as expected, but he knew it was only a matter of asking around for a woman that simply didn’t fit to do the job—and such, here he is now.
“I want—needed to see you.” Toji takes a step closer.
“Get—get away from me.”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“You were fine doing that before—what’s so different from now?” You spat.
“This is different, Y/N. You’re alone—and you need me.”
“I’m not alone—I don’t need you.” You gasp. “Get away from me or I’ll—I’ll call the police!.”
“If you don’t need me, then the baby does.”
It’s like he struck a nerve with his words, because soon after tears would begin to fall down your cheeks, revealing that the sight you attempted to portray, the strength you so fiercely put up against him, was nothing but a façade, a way to hide the fact that indeed, you needed help.
Exhausted from facing all these uncertainties on your own, afraid.
But not anymore, not when Toji was here, more than willing to step in, as seen in the way he swiftly holds you in his arms when he sees you almost faint from distress, attempting to comfort you as you continued to cry.
“Get— get away from me…!” you’d say again, still fighting against his hold. However, he doesn’t fight it, he simply allows you to vent, taking in all the pain and hatred your heart harbored from the moment you were kicked out of the estate. “Don’t touch me!”
“I’m not leaving” Toji insists, he feels you trying to squirm your way out from him, but his strength doesn’t allow it. “You can struggle all you want, but I’m not leaving you on your own—”
“What difference does it make to you? Your family abandoned me to my luck! And even forced my family to do the same!” you breathe, Toji’s eyes widen—he did not know that; his fury for the Zen’in grows, but this is not the time to deal with that. “They don’t care if I die on the street!”
“I know.” He murmurs, holding you tighter against him.
“And I—And I tried my best to—to move on, but I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sob. “I’m so alone, and scared, and—and ashamed! I don’t want to live like this anymore!! I don’t want to die!”
“…I know.”
“Why—why is this happening to me?! All I ever wanted was for—was for Naoya to love me. I never wanted anything else! I never wanted money, I never wanted to hurt anyone either! I just—I just wanted to live a happy life with him, to make him happy!
But then he—he tossed me away, at one thing he didn’t like, he acted like I didn’t even matter! He didn’t even put up a fight to defend me! he just—he just let them hurt me, like what we had was—a lie!
 Did he never—did he even love me?”
Speechless, all Toji could do is continue holding you as you kept on pouring out your feelings, hearing the heart wrenching sound of your sobs that just kept reflecting how wounded you were by Naoya’s betrayal, the transgressions of his family, and the disappointment of yours.
And all because of something you didn’t even suggest in the first place. It was him who made his way into Naoya’s mind, and eventually, it was Naoya who pushed you into it, regardless of what happened later.
He wanted to do it; you know?
He wanted to go back there and murder them for all they’d done against you.
But when he left that place one last time, he promised he would stop thinking about himself, and start doing what is right—what was needed.
If Naoya wasn’t to step up and be a man, then he would.
Toji would gladly throw away his own pride, his own anger and thirst for vengeance, just to see you safe and happy once more.
Things your husband, could simply not—but he… he’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I promise you.” Toji would reassure you once carefully placing you down to the bed after tiring yourself from crying, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
 “I swear, Y/N— I will not let my family do the same things they’ve done to me to our child. Even if it costs me my life, I will do everything in my power to keep the two of you safe.”
And unlike your husband, he means it.
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Yes, a second part is coming :) just gotta put this one out first hehe.
Anyways, it's not exactly what you asked but I think it's going there??? I mean Toji STEPPED UP and was like OK imma take care of my baby mama. also, here Naoya .I. put it where it fits. ugh, can't say we're done with him...
agihajkgksa I'm excited for what's to come, I haven't written this level of angst in a while!! oof!!!
Thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask :> I'm super happy you've like my oneshot so much!! I hope you'll be able to like this too!!
Take care, and see you soon! ❤️❤️
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hwashotcheeto · 11 hours
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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)
Best Friend's Mother Masterlist
Chapter: Ten
Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader
Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.
WC: 6.3k
CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off
AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜
Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby
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It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 
But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 
You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 
Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 
You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 
“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 
“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 
“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 
At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 
You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 
But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 
But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 
Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 
You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 
“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 
“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 
You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 
You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 
So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 
The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 
“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 
Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 
He was everything. He was wonderful. 
“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 
“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 
But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 
“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.
One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 
The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 
Your entire body sagged with relief. 
So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 
As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 
A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 
You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 
It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 
It could’ve been a crown. 
“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 
You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 
The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 
You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 
Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-
“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 
You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 
And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 
But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 
The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 
At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 
But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 
You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 
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You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 
A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 
But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 
But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 
You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 
But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 
The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 
Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 
You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 
You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 
“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 
But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 
But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 
“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 
None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 
Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 
Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 
“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 
“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 
Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 
Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 
It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 
But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 
It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 
“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 
You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 
“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 
And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 
Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 
Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 
“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 
“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 
San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 
With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 
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Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 
Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 
The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 
Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 
If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 
It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 
He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 
He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 
You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  
Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 
You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 
But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 
It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 
Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 
Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 
But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 
As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 
Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 
You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 
Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 
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By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 
You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 
But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 
But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 
You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 
But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.
In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 
All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 
You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 
Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 
Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 
The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 
You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 
Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 
“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 
Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 
You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 
“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 
Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 
“Thank you too, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 
But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 
But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 
You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 
After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 
“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 
“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 
Your heart cracked again. 
Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 
Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 
“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 
“Just open it, please!” 
With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 
“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 
“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 
You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 
But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 
Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 
“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 
You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 
“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 
“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 
He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 
“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 
“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 
You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 
Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 
Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 
You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 
It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 
“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 
“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 
“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 
Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 
“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.
“Them?”
“Yes, them, now go look!” 
Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 
And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 
Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 
Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 
So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 
And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 
The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 
“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 
It cracked your heart all over again. 
With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 
You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 
How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 
But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 
But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 
You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 
But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 
Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 
But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 
As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 
“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 
You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 
In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 
“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 
You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 
It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 
A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 
The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 
Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 
“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 
Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 
“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 
“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 
But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 
It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 
You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 
But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 
If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 
And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 
There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 
When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 
You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 
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The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 
But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 
“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 
Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 
The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 
But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 
It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 
But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 
An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 
Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 
Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 
“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 
“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 
“Be safe, nae sarang.” 
“I will, Eomma.” 
They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 
It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 
You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 
It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 
But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 
As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 
The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 
You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 
“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 
“I will. You too.” 
Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 
You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 
Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 
But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.
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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜
This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.
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mskenway97 · 2 days
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Snuggling between Orion and d-16 for warmth and comfort >:] d 16 is wary of the human but eventually relents to caring for them, his digit rubbing the humans head as they sleep
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Awww ikko this has given me the following drabble:
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After a while the human understands that those next two robots are not hotiles. Although the grey bot looked at you suspicious every time it came on the other hand the red and blue bot was delighted with the human. Orion literally would not let go of the human, anything could be dangerous for the human. Unlike them, the human could hurt itself or be a cause of death. D16 watched them from a distance, that being was still a mystery at any moment it could do something to hurt them but partly he felt some envy of the being snuggled in Orion's arms.
-It is very immobile… Are you sure it's okay? - D16 asked looking at the human as it was taking another stance. D16 wouldn't admit it but she was adorable curled up like that.
-I think it's recharging… I haven't seen him like that in front of us. You'll have to watch him for a while while I'm gone,” said Orion gently laying the human down on his berth. D16 shook his head - What?! No I'm not going to keep that! - he said as Orion snapped at him
-You're going to interrupt his recharge… I'm only going to be gone for a while. He's not going to do anything to you, D16,” said Orion as he approached the door, ‘I won't be long, I'll be right back,’ whispered Orion leaving D16 with the word in his mouth. D16 folded his arms and sulked, he stared at the human, he couldn't believe they would leave him in charge of this. If they were caught he could get in trouble but he couldn't…. He approached the huddled human.
He stroked its head with his digit “So calm like this, if you were awake you would fear me… Orion do this so easy” thought D16 as the human snuggled closer to his servo making him look at him. D16 noticed his temperature dropping somewhat. He looked around, moved the human a little to bring him a little closer to his spark. He saw that the human had a smile on his face making him feel a little warmer in his core. He closed his optics as he placed his servos close to it. Hours later….
-Sorry, D16… I take a lot… - Orion said as he saw the human and D16 reloading together in his berth. Orion's sparkle felt the emotion, it was one of the most adorable things he had ever seen. He saw that there was a gap in his berth and placed his arm around D16 and let the human close to his spark as well and close his optics. At that moment the human felt that he was for a moment in a better place than his bed on earth.
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laiqualaurelote · 2 days
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Ok but for the file thing, I'm DYING to know more about "The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign" pls <3
thank you for this ask for the WIP game! this is an extremely cracky AU in which the Richmond Players all start manifesting superpowers.
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The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign. The second was Zoreaux.
To be fair to Isaac, he had failed to chop Jamie in half. (More on this later.) Thus, while Jamie went off to sulk and Zoreaux ambled up to poke at the broken sign saying, “Maybe we can make a new one?” Isaac thought nothing of clapping him on the back and replying, “Sure thing, bruv.”
His hand went through Zoreaux like a hot knife through butter. Zoreaux didn’t exactly fall apart, but he did sort of peel away in two halves like a melted clock in a Dalí painting. He was screaming the whole time. It was the modern art mash-up nobody wanted to see.
Isaac gaped at him in horror. The other players were yelling. “Bro! What did you do!”
“I didn’t – ” began Isaac. 
Zoreaux was still screaming. Weirdly, there was no blood or anything. The edges of him seemed to have been pinched off, like Play-doh.
“We must put him back together!” shouted Dani. He and Richard were on their knees, trying to jam the two halves of Zoreaux back together, only Zoreaux seemed to be drooping and stretching through their fingers. “Mon dieu,” gasped Richard. “He is like cheese! But not good cheese! Like the cheap mozzarella from Pizza Express!”
“Osti de tabarnak de sacrament!” shrieked Zoreaux. “What the fuck is happening!”
“I got the duct tape!” called Will, rushing in. He tossed the roll to Sam, who began trying to tape Zoreaux back together as the rest of the players rushed in to try and help. 
“Wait, wait.” Something was happening as Sam’s hands brushed against the halves of Zoreaux. They seemed to be melding back together. “Sam!” cried Dani. “It’s you! You are healing him!”
“Wow,” said Sam, staring at his hands as they knit Zoreaux back together. “Wait, I need to make sure he’s aligned properly. Can I get more light?”
Everyone was temporarily blinded as Dani burst into a blazing ball of brilliance.
“...okay,” said Sam after some time, “way more light than I needed, but thank you.”
“De nada, Sam!” 
It was at this point that Trent Crimm walked into the room. He stopped and put on his glasses, as if that would clarify the tableau of the AFC Richmond team duct-taping their cloven goalkeeper together while one of their strikers was blazing like a lighthouse beacon and their captain stood in the corner with his hands apologetically raised in the air. 
“What,” said Trent, “the actual fuck?”
*
Trent’s first thought was that he would have to re-pitch his book as a fantasy novel, because nobody was going to take it seriously as non-fiction any more.
“So you’ve got healing hands,” he repeated to Sam.
“I think so?” Sam stared at his hands. “Or maybe I just have the ability to stick things back together. I don’t know. Perhaps I should test it on another injury?”
Across the locker room, O’Brien cleared his throat. “Sam? Can you touch my butt?”
Trent and the players turned to stare at him. 
“Not for gay reasons,” O’Brien clarified. “For science.”
“Both of those are valid,” said Sam. “I would be happy to touch your butt for you.”
Trying to ignore O’Brien casually dropping trou in the corner, Trent removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dani’s brightness was giving him a migraine. “I’m sorry, bruv,” said Isaac to Zoreaux for the thousandth time.
“It’s okay,” said Zoreaux. They had yet to remove the duct tape, just in case, so he looked like a very poorly-wrapped package. “It didn’t actually hurt. I was just freaking out, bro.”
Babatunde was holding on to Zoreaux’s little finger and walking across the room while Bumbercatch followed him with a measuring tape to see how far the finger could stretch. “Three metres!” yelled Bumbercatch as Richard tried to cross the room to his locker and ended up having to do the limbo under the finger. “Okay, take it around the corner!”
“I just thought,” went on Isaac, “‘cos I touched Jamie, and I didn’t chop him in half…” He trails off.
“What?” said Jamie. And then, as Isaac made a move towards him, “Whoa! Are you fucking mental?”
“Sorry.” Isaac backed off. 
“Could I test a theory?” ventured Trent. “Bearing in mind that I mean this as a purely scientific inquiry.”
“Sure,” said Jamie. “Whatev – oi!” he yelled as Trent stabbed him in the hand with his pen.
The pen snapped in two. Ink splattered over Jamie’s hand, the skin of which remained unbroken. Jamie screwed up his nose. “That’s disgusting, man.”
“I think you’re invulnerable, Jamie,” said Trent.
Jamie considered this. “That mean I can’t be hurt?”
“I believe so, yes. We’ll have to run more tests to be sure.”
“Huh,” said Jamie. “Sick.”
“It worked!” O’Brien yelled from across the room. “It’s a miracle! I’m healed!”
“Okay,” said Trent wearily, “so we’ve got…five superpowers that have manifested so far. Anybody else feel a superpower coming on?”
“I got one,” called out Jan Maas. “I’m always right.”
The locker room erupted in laughter. “Shut the fuck up, Jan Maas,” they chorused.
Jan shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
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