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callsign-dexter · 3 months

Text

Flu Season

Summary: Flu season hits the Bradford residence.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: sickness, vomit

Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter

Masterlist

Banner done by @callsigns-haze

The flu had been going around Y/N's school and she was fortunate not to get it until late last night. When she got sick it was bad, she did have a good immune system but for some reason, she just got violently sick when a bug or the flu hit her.

It was around 3 AM when the pain and shivering started. Her stomach hurt so much that it woke her up. She knew she needed to go and get her dad or wake him up somehow but the thought of her moving herself just made her shake and tense up. She laid there for a few minutes until she finally decided to get up. When she pushed the covers everything started to ache. Just moving made her feel nauseous but she needed to push through and get to her dad. She took a few breaths and slowly sat up and her world began to spin. After a few minutes of sitting there, it stopped and she started her journey again. When she stood up on the floor her legs started to shake like a newborn foal using its legs for the first time. She slowly but surely made her way to her dad's bedroom using the wall as support. When she got there the door was open, thankfully, and she walked in, her breathing was labored if she didn't sit down soon she would surely pass out. Tim was sprawled out on the right side of the bed meaning the left side was open. Y/N crawled into the vacant spot and curled into him shaking.

It took Tim a good minute to feel the extra warmth and when he did that woke him up instantly. He opened his eyes to find his daughter curled up to him and grew confused. "Baby Girl, what's wrong?" He asked and at first, she didn't answer she was just shaking. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead and felt it was burning up. "You're burning up." He said and she nodded having registered his voice.

"I don't feel good." She said and he could hear the scratchy voice and then it was followed by a cough. He rubbed her back which soothed her. "I think I'm gonna be sick." She said looking at him with wide eyes and immediately Tim jumped into dad mode. He jumped up and then scooped his 7-year-old up took her to his conjoined bathroom and sat her down just in time for her to expel whatever she ate for supper the night before.

"Just let it all out. It's ok. You'll feel better afterward." He told her as she finished and left her dry heaving. Once she was done she collapsed into her father's chest as silent hot tears raced down her cheeks. "Feel better?" He asked and she nodded her head and then turned in his arms and cuddled into him. He reached up and flushed the toilet. "Wanna try to get some more sleep or drink something?" He asked.

"Sleep." She said and he nodded and stood up with her in his arms. "Wanna sleep with you daddy." She said and he nodded as he walked to his bed and laid her in it.

"I'll be right back." He said and she nodded. Tim walked into the kitchen to grab a bucket and headed back to his bedroom. Y/N watched his every move when he got back. "If you feel like getting sick then do so in this bucket." He said and she nodded and he sat it down on the floor beside her side of the bed. She was out like a light in an instant. Tim debated going back to sleep or just lay there with her. He went with the second option and slipped into bed on his side and sat against the headboard and turned on the TV with the volume low. After 30 minutes of nothing on he found himself drifting off.

Tim wasn't a heavy sleeper to begin with and when it came to Y/N he pretty much had trained his body to listen for her. He started this when she was just a baby and Isabel was gone a lot. They both got a restless 3 hours of sleep before he woke to the sound of her throwing up. He had at some point cuddled up with her and she was just shivering in his arms despite her being hot to the touch. He was quick to sit up and rub her back "You're ok. Let it all out." He said and his heart broke when she started to cry and dry heave. After a good 2 minutes, she stopped and flopped back into the bed exhausted. He looked over at the clock and saw that it was 6 AM. He was already awake and this was his normal time to be up. When he looked back over to his daughter she was fast asleep. He carefully got out and started his routine of getting ready for the day and he needed to call into work and her school as well as make her a doctor's appointment. When he finished he sent a text to Marina to let her know what was going on.

Tim: Hey, Y/N is sick, I'm thinking it's the flu. I'm going to try and get her a doctor's appointment soon. I don't want you sick so I'll be staying with her. I'll let you know what's going on.

In an instant he got a text back.

Marina: Oh no! Poor baby! Yes just let me know what is going on and let me know when you need me. If there is anything you need me to do let me know. I hope she feels better!

He went and checked on her and she was sound to sleep curled up near the edge of the bed. He noticed that the bucket was a little bit fuller than the time he got up and he sighed, he hated it when she was sick. He walked out and back into the kitchen to pour some coffee and call the doctor's office. It rang twice before they answered

"Thank you for calling Clearview Family Physicians. My name is Emma. How may I help you?" She asked

"Hi, my name is Tim Bradford and I'm calling on behalf of Y/N Bradford. She started throwing up at 3 AM and twice more around 6 AM and 6:30 AM. She is also hot to the touch. I know there is the flu going around but I just want to make sure that's what it is." Tim said

"I'm sorry that she's feeling under the weather. We'll certainly get her in and looked at. I have a 10 AM this morning." Emma said and Tim smiled.

"That would be perfect." He said

"Alright. I have her down for 10. We'll see you then." She said

"Thank you." Tim replied back.

"You're welcome." She said and then they hung up.

Tim looked at his phone it was only 7 AM. He figured he would let her sleep in for a little bit before trying to get her to eat or drink something. He needed to call the school next and figured they had enough time to get in and open it. He dialed their number and almost instantly they answered after he pressed call.

"Thank you for calling Clear Creek Elementary School. I'm Brenda. How may I help you?" Brenda asked

"My name is Tim Bradford and I'm calling to let you know that Y/N will not be in school today. She's come down sick." Tim said

"Oh dear. I hope she gets better soon. I'll mark her as absent." Brenda said with so much care in her voice.

"Thank you. We'll let you know what happens and when she'll be back." Tim said with a smile and taking a sip of coffee.

"Sounds great. Thank you for calling. Hope to see her soon." Brenda replied and then they both hung up.

Tim looked down at his watch it was only 8 AM. He had one more call to make but first, he needed to check on Y/N. He sat his coffee down and headed to his bedroom but when he heard the sound of vomiting he rushed to his room and was quick to his daughter’s side. "Shhhh, it's ok baby. Let it all out." He said he was amazed that she had so much left in her. When she was done she caught her breath and looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes.

"I don't like this." She said and Tim's heart broke.

"I know. But I got you a doctor's appointment at 10 AM and you won't be going to school." He said and she nodded top exhausted and that made him frown. He could see the fight wasn't there and her eyes weren't as bright. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when it gets closer to leaving. You can sleep in the car too." He said and she nodded and laid down and was out like a light. He sighed and stayed there making sure she was asleep before he got up and took the bucket to empty it and then set it down again. As he was checking on her one last time he bent down to kiss her head and felt she was burning up and then how congested she was and then she let out a cough and that made him frown. All those were new symptoms. He got up and saw that the clock only read 8:16 AM he sighed and left the room while digging his phone out and went to Grey's number and hit the contact and it rang for a minute until he picked it up.

"Officer Bradford. What pleasure do I have for you to call?" Grey asked and you could hear the chuckle in his voice.

"Hey, Y/N is sick and I'm gonna need to stay home with her. She tends to cling to me when she's sick." Tim said

"She always has, ever since she was a baby." Grey said with a chuckle. "You take all the time you need and let us know if you need something. I know everyone around here would love to help out. If you need Luna for something just let her know, she would drop everything for that little girl." Grey said and Tim smiled and it was true. When his daughter met Luna it was an instant attachment.

"Thank you, Sir." Tim said "I'll let you know if there is anything." He added.

"Good. Now go and take care of that sweet baby girl. We have it handled over here." Grey said

"I'll keep you updated. I got her an appointment at 10 AM." He said

"Good. Talk to you later and keep us updated." Grey said

"I will." Tim replied and then hung up.

Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't like taking off but when his daughter was this sick he would do anything for her.

When Isabel was around she never took care of Y/N when she was sick all that responsibility fell on Tim and this caused several fights. Then again fights happened because she wasn't around to take care of their daughter. It frustrated him to no end. Yes, she was in her life for 6 years but she was just there she wasn't an active parent and when Y/N tried to be interactive with Isabel she would just shoot her down and send her off to go and find Tim. Tim had watched it happen and watched her face fall and her world shatter a little bit more each time, then she would come over to Tim and he would help her or look at what she did and when Y/N wasn't looking he would just glare at his wife who wasn't even paying attention. She was always too invested in work and going undercover. Tim sighed angrily thinking about all the times he wished he had Isabel's help but she just simply abandoned them.

He looked down at his watch for what seemed like the millionth time that morning and saw that it was 9:20 AM. The doctor's office wasn't that far but he liked being early and he needed to get Y/N up and somewhat dressed. "Alright sweet girl, up we go." He said and lifted her up and that woke her up.

"Daddy?" She asked groggily.

"Hey, Baby Girl. We need to get your teeth brushed and then head to the doctor." He said and she nodded and laid on her head on his shoulder.

"My throat hurts." She said and he nodded as he walked to the bathroom and had her brush her teeth and then he let her throw one of his sweatshirts on and he grabbed her bucket and they were out the door and into the truck. She was so congested and she was coughing nonstop. She was also starting to shiver despite her being in her dad's hoodie. She had fallen asleep on the drive over. He parked in the closest spot he could find to the door and killed the engine and then got out and then got her out she was still asleep as he carried her into the doctor's office. He smiled at the receptionist and with practiced ease he held her and signed her in and then went and sat down with her in his arms as she slept. 10 minutes later and her name was being called.

"Y/N Bradford." The nurse said and he was standing up with her and walking through the door. The jostling around made her wake. "Hey, Sweetie." The nurse said and smiled and Y/N just coughed and snuggled into her father and that made her smiled. "I'm gonna take your temperature, blood pressure, pulse, height and weight." She said and Y/N nodded. Tim put her on the ground and she got her weight and height taken and she just shook like a leaf once those two things were done she was allowed to get back on her dad's lap and she gladly did so. Her temperature was taken and when it beeped the nurse took it out of her mouth "102. She does have a fever." She said and Tim nodded the last two things were taken and then they were taken to a room. Y/N coughed and sniffled and Tim just held her closer.

A few minutes later Dr. Spring walked in and smiled sadly at the sight of the little girl. "Good morning." He said and Tim smiled.

"Good morning." He replied back.

"It says here that she might have the flu. and it looks like she has a fever. Is there anything else?" Dr. Spring asked and Tim nodded.

"She also told me that her throat hurts after I got off the phone with the receptionist and she has started to cough and sound congested. She also started to shiver and when asked to stand to take her weight and height she was just shaking." Tim said and Dr. Spring nodded adding it into the notes.

"I want to run some tests." He said and Tim nodded and slowly began to wake his daughter up and she groggily woke up and the doctor introduced himself and explained everything but she didn't say anything. Her eyes weren't as bright as they had been before she was sick. "Nurse Glass will be in here soon to run the tests." He said and then walked out of the room.

5 minutes later Nurse Glass was walking in and began taking the samples for the tests that Dr. Spring ordered. The flu one went up her nose and she hated that and she started to cry but Tim just held her tighter and when she tried to turn her head she was met with his chest. The other was for strep and that had to be done by swabbing the back of the throat and she reluctantly opened her mouth and when the sample was gotten she started to gag and the nurse was quick to grab a bucket and Y/N threw up. After she was done the nurse threw it away and then walked out.

A few minutes later the doctor was walking back in "It looks like she has the flu, strep, and a sinus infection." He said "I'm gonna get her started on some antibiotics." He said and Tim nodded and then they were free to leave. He carried her out and she was out like a light on his shoulder. He said bye to the receptionist and he was heading to the pharmacy to pick up her meds. Once they were picked up they were heading home and he was parking in the driveway and walking into the house with her. He laid her on the couch and let her sleep.

Tim got her medicine out and read the directions and got some Gatorade out that he had for when he worked out. He walked over to her and woke her up and had her take her medicine and of course she protested but he was quick to let her wash it down with the Gatorade and then she was out like a light again with the TV on low. He made himself busy around the house while still checking on her. "Daddy?" She called out and he was rushing to her from the laundry room.

"Yes, Baby Girl?" Tim asked

"I'm hungry." She said and that made him smile because that was a good sign.

"You wanna try to eat some crackers?" He asked and she nodded. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed them and then headed back. He sat down and opened them and gave her the package and she began to eat slowly. She was keeping them down and the was great. He also had grabbed the thermometer and he checked her temperature and it read about the same. He watched her eyes droop and then she was back to sleep snuggling into her father. He let everyone know what was going on.

This had gone on for serval days and on the 4th day her fever broke and she was back to playing a little bit. She was still congested but her throat didn't hurt anymore and she was still coughing. Her eyes were starting to brighten back up and that made Tim smile.

On the 7th day she was back to her old self and the antibiotics were done and she was no longer congested and her eyes were bright. It was a Wednesday so she was cleared to go back to school with her doctor's note. He watched her skip off into the school and he smiled he was so happy to have his little girl back. Once she was safe inside he started his drive to work, he hated taking time off but if it was to take of his little girl then so be it. When he arrived he was asked how she was and he smiled and told them that she was better and that she went back to school and was back to her old self. Everyone was happy about that now she could get back to her shenanigans, like scaring the living daylights out of Officer Smitty and conning him into doing stuff because he was slightly terrified of her.

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sinsinsininning · 3 months

Text

A little bit softer

Chapter 2.

Eustass Kid x crew mate!fem!reader

TW: depictions of DV, descriptions of medical terms and procedures, not as smutty

A/N: I don’t know why but l always have to make my reader inserts or OCs a medic in some way……It’s probably bc I’m a vet tech.

~~~~~~

Kid felt… guilty, which wasn’t a normal thing for him. Suspecting you were scared of him was one thing. But knowing you were scared of him was another entirely.

He wanted to shake himself some days, you were just a rookie. Not his lover. Not his partner. He didn’t owe you anything. But then he’d ruin his own pep talk by thinking of you and your face.

After your conversation with Heat, Kid walked on eggshells around you. The entire crew was still trying their damnedest to meddle with him, so encounters with you had ramped up a lot. You both still did your best to avoid eye contact or speak to him. But it was clearly starting to wear on the crew’s patience.

“You need to handle your shit.” Killer said to him one day in his workshop. Kid couldn’t even pretend not to know what he was on about.

“You need to fuck off!” He shouted, feeling his shoulders shake.

“Just talk with her, you never know, maybe she likes you as well.”

Kid burst out in hysterical laughter, needing a few moments to catch his breath.

“She’s terrified of me Killer,” He coughed. “She thinks I’m gonna hit her or something. I heard her telling Heat.” Killer cocked his head, thinking.

“All the more reason to clear the air. What’s more is I can’t have the crew keep trying to pair the two of you up, it’s getting in the way of their tasks.” Kid fixed him with a glare.

“Newsflash, asshole! You were the one who started that shit!” He turned back to his table. “Besides the fuck am I gonna say to make her feel better? Huh?”

“That’s true, you’re not good with words.” Killer nodded and began approaching him. “You’ll just have to use your actions.” Kid laughed.

“Oh yeah? How am I gonna do that?” He asked sarcastically before a sharp pain flared in his right arm. “Ow what the fuck?!”

Killer had cut his arm, a deep laceration at least 5 inches long. The masked man shrugged at his shouting.

“She’s in the med bay, go up there, tell her you got cut while working. Ask her to patch you up.”

“Fuck you this stings!” Kid pressed a used rag to his arm. “I’ll fucking stab you.”

“She won’t be there much longer. Tell her you can’t find me and you can’t stitch yourself with one hand.” Killer took that moment leave, Kid stood there fuming for a moment. Part of him wanted to just stay down here and fix it later, just to piss Killer off.

But a stronger part of him wanted to see you, hopefully you wouldn’t run or hide. He made his way slowly to the med bay, almost hoping you’d be gone. As he entered he saw how unlucky he was.

You had your back to him, wiping down the machines that sterilized the suturing materials and other rudimentary instruments. He coughed to get your attention, keeping his injured arm hidden behind the doorframe.

“Hip are you don- oh!” He hated how tense you became, you soft stomach clenching in worry. “Sorry captain, I thought Hip was done with the mop. What can I do for you?” He showed you his arm and felt a small bit better as you gasped with worry.

The rag he’s used to staunch the bleeding made it look worse than it was, but it had dried a little and was now stuck to his skin. You motioned for him to sit on the chair by the table.

“How’d that happen?” You asked, trying to gently peel the rag off.

“Was working and it just kinda happened.” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to lie to you. “Don’t know where Killer is and I can’t sew with only one hand.” Still not lies technically.

“Gotcha.” You’re all business and he feels a little flush at the sight of you zipping around the room gathering materials. “Well it’s not too bad, really deep though. I’ll numb it, suture it really quick and you should be on your way.” Any trace of fear or anxiety was gone, your posture alert but relaxed, you soft face was focused.

“Take your time.” Kid drawled, enjoying the view, didn’t hurt that your ass looked good as you bent over to grab something under the desk. Your ass always looked good he decided. “Got nowhere to be.”

“Not true,” You return with a small syringe, some type of numbing drug he assumed. “You’re the captain, you probably got plenty of stuff to be doing.”

He didn’t respond, the injection you gave him stung so he had to bite back his swears about it. Neither of you spoke as you worked. You had to stand pretty close to place the sutures, your hands cold but soft as you touched him.

You shivered at one point and Kid realized, horrifically, that he’d leaned to far forward to watch your hands. You glanced up at him, caught his gaze and shuffled a bit further back. He wanted to growl as he saw how tense you’d gotten, your soft apology only making him more frustrated.

You were halfway done and he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“So.” You tensed again, he could see it in your neck especially. “I never did ask… who was your old captain?” You jabbed the needle a bit harder at the question, obviously not on purpose as you profusely apologized. He ignored and continued to stare until you answered.

“His- um. His name is um… It’s Badger. Captain Badger.” You try to focus once more.

“How long did you sail with him?”

“2 years.”

“How big was the crew?”

“About 15.”

“Where’d you sail?”

“West Blue.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Um.” You were almost shaking, he almost hesitated.

“Why’d you leave his crew?”

“What does it matter?” Oh that was a response, he grinned, anger was better than fear. At least in his book.

“Answer the question. It’s important for me to know.”

“You never needed to know before. Why now?”

“Because I’ve been watching you.” He leans forward more, meeting your heated glare as you tied the final knot. “You’ve got some peculiar habits, I’d like to know more about that.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

He nodded.

“Like on deck or like…. In my room?”

“Not like that you pervert!” He can’t help but shout, you don’t flinch though. A small grin on your face as you successfully get him off the topic.

“So not my room or the showers? Just to clarify.” He knows he’s blushing but he still growls and stands to his full height. You step back but he follows you, a look of fear in your eyes takes over the glee. But he can’t stop himself from continuing.

“You’re clever, but I still need an answer.” He crowds your space, placing both hands on the counter behind you, caging your body with his. He leans forward, letting his breath fan over your ear. “Why did you leave?”

You stay silent, face red and a little sweaty, he pulls back just enough to admire the sight. He can’t make a reassuring face to save his life, but he tries as tears fill up your eyes. Still, he can’t stop, he needs this. You need this.

“If you are unhappy with my performance or skills, tell me and I will fix them. I haven’t brought any bad habits on board. I assure you.” You finally answer, your words felt warm against his face, he grinned some more.

“Uh-uh you see, one of those habits, the only one really,” His grin drops from his face. “Is that you’re scared of your captain.” You pale at his words and start to shake a little. He continues, drawing back slightly.

“That’s something he taught you, right?” He tilted his head a little. “To be scared of your captain. Because you never know when he’ll just up hit you, right?” He parroted your words from the bar back to you. Your eyes are wide with recognition.

“I’m sor-“

“Save it,” He cuts you off. “I know I’m scary, it’s my whole deal. I’m a scary pirate who murders and pillage. But my crew is mine. Understood. I don’t let anyone harm them, especially not myself.” You lean back into the counter more.

“You hurt Wire. You made him need staples and you didn’t even seem sorry. You didn’t help patch him up.” Kid knew this was coming, he still didn’t know what to say.

“It was a mistake,” He said. “I didn’t mean to hit him, but you’re right. I should’ve check on him and made sure he wasn’t hurt.” It was hard to admit he was wrong, but in the small medical room, to you, it was a little easier.

Both of you stayed quiet for a while. He made no move to let you go. And you made no move to try. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually stopped you if you did. Finally, the tension in you jaw and shoulders eased, just a little.

“Badger… was bad. He didn’t just hit us. He stole from us and wouldn’t let us leave, even if some managed to escape they’d have no Beris. It’d be like starting from scratch, but worse because if he caught you he’d kill you.” You paused, taking a big breath, turning to stare at the wall. “I was secretly saving Beris, to hopefully run off and be able to hide from him. I didn’t have much, barely anything. One day he came and told me he wanted me to be his… wife.” Kid stood up straight, leaning back like he’d been struck, you continued barely noticing him.

“I told him no, I should’ve said yes and bided my time. Maybe I could’ve taken more people with me, but I was an idiot.”

“No that’s not-“ You cut him off.

“He threw a fit, tried to kill me. His devil fruit power nullifies weapons, so I couldn’t fight back. I tried to stage a mutiny, but everyone was too afraid, he’d never lost a fight. Eventually I jumped over board and swam to shore. I hid on a marine ship, I never had a bounty so I just pretended to be some girl who wanted to travel. I flirted with some of them and got a ride to a port a few islands over.” You sighed, a long exhale that seemed to deflate you. “I had no Beris or even clothes. But I overheard some rookies talking about joining your crew. I figured it was the safest option. So I spoke with Killer and here I am.” You trailed off quietly, tears still hadn’t fallen yet, it was almost impressive.

Kid didn’t speak for several long minutes, just watching you hold your breath. Finally he pushed off the counter, giving you both some breathing room. He began to exit when you called out.

“Captain what are you doing?”

He turned with a scowl.

“I’m setting a course to go murder that asshole.”

“What? Why that’s so far off our course.”

“I told you, you’re my crew. We’re gonna go murder him, then if any of your old friends wanna join the crew they can.” He laughed at your shocked face. When he’d caught his breath he turned again to leave.

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #eustass x reader #kid x reader

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starogeorgina · 4 months

Text

𝐑𝐮𝐧

Paring: Joel Miller × reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of attempted SA, violence, age gap relationship, blood, kidnapping, mentions of child abuse

Chapter: 1.02

You have to fight to keep the rage from your face, not wanting to give Ellie another reason to disappear again. And though you felt guilty for sending her out into the freezing cold in the first place, you thought it was better for her to collect buckets of snow rather than witness Joel vomiting. The young girl practically leaps down the staircase into the basement, dropping a small bag in front of you without an explanation. You release Joel’s hand and whisper to Ellie, “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I have medicine for Joel."

After escaping the raiders, Joel collapsed, falling off his horse, and you’d managed to help him into the base of a house in a small abandoned town. When he began burning up, you sent Ellie outside to get a bucket of snow to try and cool him down with. When she never came back, you tried to look for her, but with the heavy snowfall, you lost Ellie’s footprints and have been ill with worry since. “Where from, on the other side of the country?"

“I made a deal to trade the deer I killed with some guy. He was a fucking weirdo.”

You could tell by the flush on her cheeks that she was hiding something, but you didn’t have time to pry it out of her. Joel's stab wound had become infected, and he needed the medication immediately. You give him a shot of penicillin on his side, which causes your stomach to turn.

“What guys? Did they follow you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were more pissed at yourself than with Ellie; she was just a young girl trying to be helpful, unaware of the danger she was putting herself in.

—

Joel lets out a quiet moan as you link your fingers with his. “Where is she?” He asks weakly, “Ellie.”

You point to the corner of the room where Ellie was sleeping with her back pressed against the wall, “asleep.”

Content that Ellie was safe Joel turns his attention to you. He brushes strands of hair behind your ear and says, “You look tired.”

“Really? Because I thought I looked great.”

A pained smile crosses his face. “I don’t need you to watch over me.”

Admittedly, Joel was looking a lot better after a few more injections of penicillin, and he wasn’t as clammy as before, but he was still in and out of consciousness. You sigh, “I need to keep watch.”

“Suppose, but I’ll listen out if you want to close your eyes.” Joel grunts as he shuffles over on the dirty, worn-out mattress he’s laying on, giving you enough space to settle down beside him.

Hesitantly, you put your head on his chest, careful to make sure you don’t put any weight on his body. You feel comfort for the first time since you left Jackson when Joel kisses your forehead and gently twiddles a strand of your hair.

—

You press the back of your hand on Joel’s forehead, trying to gauge what his temperature is. He had fallen into a deep sleep a few hours previously, and it was difficult to get him to take a sip of water. Ellie had to pry his mouth open while you poured it in.

“Are you dating?”

Your head snaps up to meet Ellie’s burning gaze. “What?”

“You and Joel, are you dating?”

“Um, no, we aren’t dating.” The past few days were made up of fleeting touches and shared looks. You thought they had gone unnoticed, but it seems you were wrong.

“But you’ve slept together.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Why would you do that if you aren’t together? It’s just going to make everything more complicated than it is,” Ellie says, sounding so much older than she is. “Adults are so fucking dumb at times.”

Ellie probably didn’t even fully understand what she was talking about. You were sure she had only learned the basics of sex at school, but she was too young to understand how. You feel bad seeing the faraway look on her face. Ellie had started to see Joel as a father figure, and it was possible that she thought he would choose you over her. “I promise nothing will change—what was that?”

Ellie climbs up onto an old washing machine and looks out of the window. “Oh shit. It’s that guy, David, with a group of men, and all of them have guns.”

“Tell me everything, now.”

Quickly, Ellie fills you in on how the man she met before was part of the same community of raiders that attacked you at the university and would likely be hunting you down to get revenge on Joel for killing the man who attacked you.

Panic begins to set in, as you only have a few moments to figure out what to do. You zip up your jacket and make sure the gun is loaded before placing it in your holster. “Everything me and Joel do is to keep you alive, so I need you to do everything I tell you to, okay?”

Ellie nods.

“Find a place to hide and don’t come out. I’m going to lead the men away from here, and whatever happens, you stay with Joel, okay?”

Slowly, she nods again, tears glistening in her eyes.

You lean forward and kiss her on the forehead before climbing up onto the washing machine and cracking one of the windows open; thankfully, you were able to squeeze through it. Silently, you prayed. The three of you made it through the day and managed to not get captured by these assholes.

—

Despite agreeing to do what you said, Ellie decided to try to help you lead the men away from Joel, which derailed your plan. You had managed to go unnoticed as you snuck along to the house at the end of the street and set it on fire. Once they were distracted by the fire, you would mount the horses and go in the opposite direction, but just as the group of men noticed the smoke, Ellie rode the horse down the street to try and lead them into the woods.

When you see Ellie fall off the horse, which has just been shot, you try to reach her before the group of men do. You fire at them, “Stay the fuck away from her!”

You almost reach her in time, but you’re tackled from behind and pinned down to the ground.

“There’s no need to be so afraid,” a man says before picking up Ellie's unconscious body, and immediately you know something is off about him. You could sense the evil presence around him. “My name is David, and I mean you no harm.”

“Put her down now! You son of a—”

—

Your throat burns as the last of the food in your stomach exists in your body. As soon as you saw so much blood on your hands, you began to vomit. You were knocked out and carried to some community in the middle of nowhere, where you were chained to the wall like a wild animal ready for slaughter.

You had made yourself small and crouched. In the corner, one of the men from before tried to offer you a drink of water.

“James, is it?”

“Yeah."

The look in his eyes is almost tender, as if he feels bad for what he’s doing. You swing your leg up and kick him in the face, bursting his nose open. “That’s for shooting my fucking horse. Now, where is she?"

“You’re going to regret that, stupid bitch!” He hisses before storming out of the small room, slamming the door behind him.

—

David towers over you as he tries to convince you that he is a good guy and that everything he does is for the good of his people. He had handed you a form to fill out, which was mainly questions about your menstrual cycle and told you everything you needed to know. He was searching for healthy women to breed them like cattle.

In a neutral tone, you say, “I’ve met men like you before. I know what you are.”

“And what’s that?” David asks, amused, thinking he has won you over.

“No man focuses on a little girl so much unless they are sick in the head,” you say before spitting in his face. “You’re a fucking pedophile!”

“I think you’ve talked enough for today.”

You pull on the chain keeping you attached to the wooden wall and loudly scream, “If you touch a single hair on her head, I will fucking skin you alive!”

—

You stumble out onto the thick snow; if it weren’t for Joel and Ellie calling your name, you would have obviously been in their presence. Tears fall from your eyes as you continue to limp straight ahead towards the icy river. Your bare arms start to feel numb as the cold nips at them.

You had no choice; you had no voice.

Until the day you died, the nightmares of what just happened would haunt you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see the crimson trail you’ve left behind—a mixture of your own blood and the blood of those you killed dripped from your body. Your eyes return to the front of you as the reality of what you did starts to become overwhelming. The second you feel a hand touching your shoulder, you begin to scream and lash out. “Get away from me! Get away!”

“It’s me! It’s just me!”

“Get off of me!” You’re unable to scratch and slap when your arms are bound with something. “Let me go! Just let me go, please!”

“Stop, it’s me; it’s Joel.”

Slowly you stop lashing out, your chest having as you take gulps of air as you sob. “J—Joel? Joel, they—they—”

They are cannibalistic freaks who tried to force themselves on me with the purpose of getting me pregnant.

“Shh,” he pulls you into his arms, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “I’ve got you; you’re safe.”

You feel Ellie hugging you from behind, her head resting against your shoulder blades. It takes you a moment to register that Joel has removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Once you’ve regained control of your breathing, you lift your head and quietly ask, “What do we do now?”

“We’ll find shelter and get you cleaned up.”

You nod, and stepping back, you fix your arms into the sleeve of the jacket and fasten it. Joel leads the way, his fingers tightly gripping his shotgun. You and Ellie share a look that cuts deep. From the look in her eyes, you can tell she’s as traumatized as you are.

#the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #run

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pussydestroyer10110 · 1 year

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I decided to grow some balls and write something I pray to Jesus that no one I know knows this is me

Starting off slow I'll grow with time

Sorry if this is shit, I don't know if anyone is reading but I'm just gonna have fun and pretend I'm not deathly embarrassed by this.

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

How Daryl Dixon would react to you giving him a flower

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

You've known Daryl since the farm -since you'd been friends with Maggie since before the fall- he was quiet and brooding in the beginning but seemed as though his heart was in the right place. You'd seen him going out day and night to try and find Sophia so you blamed his grumpy nature to that.

One day you were helping Hershel with treating Patricia who had burnt herself cooking breakfast that morning (Hershel had been sharing his medical knowledge with you since the fall) when you heard a shot go off outside. Hershel told you to stay there and finish of wrapping Patricia's burn while he went to see the commotion outside.

You were tucking in the end of the bandage and telling Patricia to keep it clean and try not to get the bandage wet when the door to the bedroom turned infirmary was nearly kicked off its hinges. In walked the leader of the new group that arrived last week and the man who went on a run with otis to save that little boy; but the reason they were here is because of the limp Daryl in between them, his arms slung around each o their shoulders.

Your newly found medical instincts ushered Patricia out the room and moved the small bedside table so Daryl could be lifted into the bed. Once he was lying in front of you you began to assess the damage: stomach wound; twisted ankle and a gash tearing the side of his head near his temple.

You stepped back a bit and let Hershel do what he did best but after they cut his shirt off and Hershel was dealing with his stomach, you were told to treat his head wound. He was unconscious so you slightly turned his head to the side. A bloody streak ran from the corner of his eye to the side of his ear.

You grabbed the glass vial of disinfectant and a clean rag, you poured some of the solution on it and started to dab the wound with utmost care. Just as you were cleaning the rough edges of the graze his eyes fluttered open and his head jolted up. Rick and Shane held his torso back down as you asked him to relax for just a little while longer.

When he laid his head back on the pillow he looked up at you through pain glazed eyes, you could see him slightly wincing as you gently pressed the cloth against the now bleeding wound. You apologised to which he told you not to worry.

You couldn't help but flush slightly under his curious gaze.

Hershel had finished up leaving the room with Rick and Shane, leaving just the 2 of you.

"What happened?" You asked

"Clumsy bitch shot me in th' head." He replied

You couldn't help but laugh slightly at the spiteful tone hww used for Andrea who you hadn't liked from the start. You put a small bandage on his head and repeated what you had told Patricia to do to him, yet when you pressed against the bandage to secure it he winced again.

"Sorry..." You apologised again.

"Ain' got nuffin to be sayin' sorry for, Andrea should be the one sayin' that." Again you smiled at that and he felt confused about why he liked the way your face lit up when you smiled.

You eventually left him to rest for a while going to help with dinner due to Patricia's current predicament. However you got shooed away by Maggie who told you to relax after a long day.

With your new found time, you decided to wander around the perimeter, with a hunting knife don't worry. It was on your walk you found a small cluster of purple and yellow pansies.

For some strange reason they reminded you of Daryl and his wild yet sometimes soft nature. Without thinking you picked a handful of them and began to trek your way back up to the house.

With your pansies in hand you found a small unused vase that you filled with water and arranged the pansies in, you thought about if Daryl would like your gift you were about to give. Since you'd arrived at the house at dinner time you made up a portion of food for Daryl getting a bit of everything because you don't know what he liked yet.

You had a plate of food in one hand and the vase of pansies in the other, you knocked on Daryl's door with your foot before hearing a gruff 'come in'. It was as struggle to open the door but you eventually managed.

There Daryl was sprawled put on top of the covers with a new shirt but his shoes off after Patricia scolded him for having them on the white linen. You approached him with a smile to which he returned a small grin, you brought around the hospital bed table (you know the ones that roll over so you can eat in bed). You placed the food on the table.

"Thank ya." He said.

"It's no problem when it's for my favourite patient, also I got you something." You said in reply.

Then you placed the pretty vase of pansies on the table as well, a stupid smile on your face.

A genuine smile made its way onto his face, it was small but it was there. Meanwhile Daryl felt the unfamiliar glimmer of joy bubbling inside him.

He stared at the hardy flowers he'd seen many times before whilst hunting, he'd always thought they were quite pretty and even though he would never admit it they would always interest his flower loving heart. Therefore seeing you give him his possibly favourite flower it made him happy.

He stared at them for a little while longer before speaking.

"You didn' have to do this ya know."

"I know, but I saw them and thought of you."

When Daryl heard that you thought of him in unrealated taskd he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time, hope. He hoped he would have a better future and escape the drunken curse the seemed to follow the Dixon men and now with you he saw a chance to get out of the stereotype.

"Thank ya." He said it quietly like he was embarrassed of how he reacted to a simple flower.

"No problem."

It was getting dark now and you knew your patient should be getting some rest now so you bent down and kissed his forehead and started to walk towards the door.

"Goodnight"

"Goo'night"

Then you left your cheeks flushed and little did you know you left poor Daryl a blushing mess in the bed.

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

I know it's not much but please feel free to give any pointers or requests if you want xx

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd x reader #medicine #the walking dead #daryl x reader #daryl x you #fluff #twd #flowers #what they would do if #first post

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incandescent-creativity · 3 days

Text

It’s been ages since I’ve done one, but the @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt today matched up with a nice chunk of what I wrote today!

So in honor of the coincidence, have the first draft of what Ash discovering she has horns now.

When I wake up, it feels like it has been less than a minute, but I find myself in a different bed than the one I’ve been sleeping on in my room, laying on my stomach with my arms folded beneath a pillow that supports my head.

That’s not how I usually sleep, which only heightens my disorientation. I push up with my arms carefully, conscious of the healing wound on my right forearm, and try to sit up. It must have been one hell of a nap; my muscles feel tight and stiff, like I was sleeping on them funny. Which I guess is what I was doing, since I woke up on my stomach.

I was placed on some sort of a cot, which makes more sense once I sit up and swing my legs over the edge to recognize the apothecary. Nobody else is in the room with me, human or otherwise. That puzzles me, until I realize that they must have thought that I was stable enough to attend to other matters.

Still, I would have thought that Zach, at least, would have been here. We seemed to be on pretty good terms after our conversation yesterday, but maybe he is in a separate room, working off his portion of the pain price.

That must have been what happened to me. I must have taken the price in the head. That’s the only thing that makes sense. I remember it the blasting pain that happened, and it only happened after the last of the ritual’s light had faded. And I’m still dealing with it; I have the most blinding headache. It makes it hard to think straight, so I sit there, numb without thought, for a long moment before it occurs to me that head wounds can be pretty serious.

That’s another reason someone should be here attending me. But when I look down at the flat pillow in concern, there isn’t a spot of blood on it. That seems pretty unusual to my eyes. It’s not that I don’t trust in the healer’s skills, but I don’t even feel any bandages on my head.

I lift a hand to my temple to make sure, and forget about my headache for a second. There might not be any bandages on my head, but there is a hard lump an inch or two above my ear. It’s protruding out of my hair, but poking through the thick locks makes it seem flush with my skin. So it isn’t like the healer put something on my head to dull the pain.

I take my fingers away for the quickest of seconds just to check for blood. They come away clean. My tired brain catches up and I realize that, if I was actively bleeding in the area by this lump, it would have hurt when I started poking around.

Trying to give myself some grace, I shake my head. The movement feels… strange. It’s almost heavier, but in a way that feels like the way my head moves through the air is different.

More confused than when I woke up, I go back to my tactile inspection. The thing, whatever it is continues further up and backwards, away from my forehead, getting thinner as it goes. It’s subtly ridged, like if the centerpoint of a tree ring had been raised, and every subsequent ring grew out thicker below it until the whole thing appeared like a conical tower. But thinner, and subtle, and almost curved and arching, making a space between the top of my head and…

I freeze, forming a thought that might be a realization. To confirm, I raise my other hand up to the other side of my head. Sure enough, I feel another one.

Are these… horns?

#flashfictionfridayofficial #my writing #my excerpt #character: ash #lore book 1 #lore series

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adabisworld · 2 years

Text

Stars to my moon

Genre: Soulmateau! Idolau! Angst;fluff;drama;romance, polyAu!

Pairing:ot7×f!OC

Summary: He took big strides, halting right in front of me as he bends to my eye level, causing me lean back a little. I could feel his breath fanning my face, looking into his eyes, I could see a storm of anger into them.

"We have been nothing but considerate of you and your feelings, while all you've given in return is rejection and cold shoulder since day one." He grits out.

when Selene's 22nd birthday doesn't go as she expected, her world turns upside down, making her resent her soulmates. Will she ever come to accept them in her life or will she continue to run away holding onto her past love?

word count: 1050

Prologue

The sunlight coming through the white curtains lightning the room, and the sound of birds chirping outside on the tree, disturbed the much-needed sleep I was hoping to get. The soft breeze from the window caressing my sweaty face gave me some comfort. My mind was still hazy from last night's event.

As my mind started recalling the reason behind my raging headache, I jolted right up to look for my phone hoping to see a call or a text from him. The disappointment of seeing none in the sea of congratulations from my friends and family struck me like lightning. Yesterday was supposed to be a confirmation that we're soulmates. We were supposed to be happy, not heartbroken. I didn't just lose my love, I lost my best friend too. I didn't realize, I was crying until I saw my phone screen wet. Clenching my eyes shut, I tried not to cry, but all I could see or think about was him.

last night

My heart melted as my eyes landed on the beautiful necklace Eric bought me for my birthday. I looked up into his eyes which were awaiting my response,

"Eric," I said as my mouth broke into a huge grin.

"It's beautiful," I told him as my eyes landed on the beautiful stary necklace again.

Eric's voice made my eyes settle on his, " it took me some time though I finally found the perfect gift for my perfect girl." he said making my cheeks grow heated, butterflies erupting in my stomach even after all this time as I hung my head to hide the effect he still has on me. He loves doing it, making my cheeks flush.

The sound of the chair gliding against the floor stole my attention, I see him getting up from his chair and coming to stand behind me with the necklace in his hands and moving my hair to the side, settling the piece on my neck. The chain was golden and long enough for the stars to touch between my clavicles, which were shining bright, making my breath hitch with the beauty of the neckpiece.

A sudden stinging pain took place between my shoulder blades.

"Ah!" a groan left my lips as I closed my eyes and held the tablecloth between my closed fist .As fast as it came, the pain was gone and I was able to breathe again.

The realization of the reason behind the sudden ache had a glooming smile plastered on my face as I tried to touch the place where now my soul mark rests.

I turned around with excitement, jumped to my feet, and wrapped my arms around his tall and slender figure, his musky scent invading my senses reminding me of home and home he was. He was there when I took my first steps when I joined the elementary school, and when I got bullied in high school for my brown skin and ethnicity, he was always there, protecting me from the world. Though we only officially have been dating for the past six years, we always believed each other to be our soul mates. Even the people around us had no doubt.

When he still didn't move or hug me back, I stepped back and placed my palm on his left cheek: gently calling for him. His eyes found mine as I tried to decipher the emotions swimming behind his blue orbs. The joy of getting my soul mark made me assume his tears were of the same .I leaned in to connect my lips to his, wanting to taste his cupid lips, but he backed away, making my beaming smile turn into a frown.

"what's wrong Eric?" I asked.

" now we can officially call each other soulmates, Aren’t you happy?"

but the next words that came out of his mouth told me exactly the reason behind his turmoil.

" your soul mark.." he gulped and closed his eyes, a lone tear fell on his cheek as he opened them. "it's very beautiful, but i...I don't think we are soulmates" he chuckled bitterly. "cause I didn't get a soul mark when you touched me."

"We were wrong... I can't believe we were wrong for so long" he mumbled while stepping away from me.

My brain took a minute to process his words and I stumbled back as they finally hit me. NO, I thought. My eyes looked for his mark or lack thereof for confirmation and as he said there was nothing.

"NO", "no no no no..." I kept mumbling. " it can't be, we are meant to be together eric, we have always been together." I clutched his shirt wanting nothing more than the words coming out of my mouth to be true, for him to assure me that nothing will change.

"it's okay, it's okay, we don't need the marks to tell us we are meant to be. We can be happy without the stamp of approval of the marks," I said frantically while Eric was trying to get out of my hold shaking his head.

"No, Selene. There are other people, our actual soulmates, we need to think of, who will be affected by this if we try to ignore the soul bonds" he said softly, not wanting me to lose my mind further.

I turned away from him, "I need a drink" I said, chugging down the contents of my glass of wine, which was brought to celebrate my 22nd birthday, my special day. The day we both were eagerly waiting for, to finally show everyone that we indeed are soulmates but, NO the world likes to throw curveballs at my face every time I feel even a spurt of happiness and this is a fucking huge one.

I slowly slide down to my chair, clutching the necklace he just gave me, remembering our moments. Everything we went through together, every time the world got against us we stood together facing it but now? now he wants to let go of the hand he promised to hold forever. All the sweet words of promises he gave me vanish into nothing.

"We can still be friends, Selene. We don't need to throw everything away but, I just can't be with you like that anymore knowing you belong to someone else," he says shaking his head, and stopping my thoughts abruptly.

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bartxnhood · 2 years

Text

nausea | d.c

gif not mine.

| darrel curtis x reader

summary: you’re sick, which gives reason for your best boyfriend to take care of you.

warnings: mentions of throwing up

authors note: guess who is sick again ?? that’s right !! me ! i have covid yet again 😭 i hate it here. anyways, this plot is overused but idc i live for it. so to all of my outsiders followers: this one’s for you !! enjoy.

(requests open)

not proofread

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you were feeling bad all day, no energy, very little strength, and the worst cough. darrel had been gone at work for most of the day, you cleaned up the best you could around the house but once soda saw how bad you looked, he immediately told you to go lie down. so you did. and it was only a matter of time before your stomach started disagreeing with you.

usually, darrel never wakes up randomly from his slumber, but tonight was different. he heard rustling coming from the hallway which immediately caused him to rise from his sleeping position only to be met with you. stumbling out of the door, wiping your mouth. darrel was quick on his feet, walking over to you. “honey?” you looked up at him, which made him freeze. you look awful, your skin flushed and your eyes were almost black, “are you okay?” he hummed and you shook your head. “i think i’m getting sick” your voice was raspy from the contents that just came up.

darrel gently pressed his hand to your forehead, “jesus christ, y/n. you’re burnin up” he huffed, “cmon you need to get back in bed.” he guided you back to your shared bed and helped you, pulling the covers over you. “i’ll get you some medicine, yeah?” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving. he found the necessary medicine to help with your nausea and a few pain pills for the fever. he always kept in mind what you have done for him when he came back from work with a stiff back or sore arms.

you were always taking care of him and the boys if darrel wasn’t around. “alright, darlin” he hummed, holding out a few advil and water. you popped the pills, and took a swig of the cool liquid. “thank you, dare.” he took the cup and set it on the bedside table. “of course, hun. now get some rest, i hate seeing you like this” he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, hoping your fever would break. you sighed, letting your head rest on the pillow. “it’s probably just the flu. it’ll pass” you shrugged, darrel hated your stubbornness. “y/n/n. your sick. give it a few days and rest. i’ll tell the boys to help around. and i won’t take no for an answer.” your eyes opened, staring up at his fine. “fine, darry. i just hate to feel like i’m not doing enough.”

he shook his head, “you’ve done so much for us, darlin. just take these few days to rest and you’ll be fine.” he assured, running his thumb over your knuckles. “you’re always takin care of us, i oughta be takin care of you. cant lose my best girl. now, sleep”

#the outsiders imagine #the outsiders #darrel curtis #darry x y/n #darry curtis #ponyboy x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle #two bit x reader #two bit mathews #dallyboy #dally winston #dallas x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis

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just-a-jock · 2 years

Text

Forgotten Mask

Oh, forgot my mask” you run back inside your house. You were just about to head out to work when you forgot your mask inside. Grabbing the first mask you saw on the table inside, you didn’t notice it actually belonged to your jock brother, who left it there last night when he came home drunk from a party. Driving over to the mall where you work, you finally found a parking spot and was just about to get out as you put on the mask. You immediately smelled the powerful scent of alcohol and protein powder. “Oh god ew. This is my brother’s” you say as you try to take off the mask. Until you notice that for some reason it’s stuck on your face. You start to panic as you continue to try and remove it but it seems just to get tighter and tighter. You start to feel pain travel through your body as you moan out loud. You start to feel your body pulsating as your upper body starts to grow. Your arms come first as your biceps become as large as basketballs replacing your skinny arms. They grow so large they rip the sleeves off your work shirt. “Ughhh.. what…. Is happening… please…. Help” you moan out. Next, you feel your pecs start to jut out as they grow huge and your nipples darken and grow, moving downwards with your growing pecs. Along with your pecs, you feel abs starting to protrude from your small stomach as your entire torso starts to expand outwards. You yell in pain as your shirt starts to stretch and rip until it burst leaving you shirtless in your car. You catch your breath thinking it’s over until you look down. The material of your work pants starts to change becoming gray and turning into sweatpants. As the pants finish up their changes your thighs start to expand as your legs stretch out. You had to push back your seat to make room for your now long and muscular legs. Something else started to change but you couldn’t make sense of it until you felt two straps hug your now huge ass and tighten as you realized your underwear has changed into a jockstrap. Your thoughts are confirmed as you lift the waist of your new sweatpants and see a big black pouch with an Underarmor logo…. Wait wasn’t that the same underwear your brother had. Your thought is interrupted as pain from that same pouch appears. You moan in a mixture of pain and pleasure as your cock starts to expand outwards. It feels like you are being jacked off as your cock continues to expand into the pouch filling it out perfectly along with your heavy balls filled with cum ready to breed. “An…anyone…. Please help” you yelled but there was no use as the parking lot where you were was empty. You then pull down the mirror in your car to see everything that has happened as you start to feel your face change, while you are wearing a mask and can’t see much, you do see your eyes change to look identical to your brothers. The change moves upwards as your hair changes to a typical jock cut which you only had a small time to look at as a baseball cap materialized onto your head. You were about to touch your face and try to remove your mask one more time until your hand unwillingly starts to move into your pants you feel it grab your cock and start jacking it off as it continues to grow making it impossible for you to encompass it with just one hand. As you are forced to watch your unconscious hand jack your cock you start to see images appear in your head. Working out in the gym…. Fucking…. Flexing. All these memories start to flood your mind as your old ones get flushed down being stored with your cum. As you start to edge up you moan one more time “please…. I don't… want this…” and with that, you cum all over your jockstrap as you lay back in your car seat panting from exhaustion. Out of nowhere you get a call on your cell phone

“Yo bro, did you take my mask?” Your brother asks over the phone

“Huhuh yeah bro, sorry about that” you replied as your brother noticed your voice sounded different…

“Um, alright dude, you can bring it to my gym after work”

“ lol fuck work Bro! I’ll join you at the gym now” You replied, hanging up and getting ready to drive over.

As you got to the gym and greeted your brother he was shocked to see that you look like his twin. He soon realized that the mask was the reason why you have transformed. Of course, he decided to do nothing about it as he finally had a brother he liked and can hang out with. You even ended up quitting your job and joining him as a personal trainer at the gym.

#jock #muscle #hunk #jock tf #nerdtojock #pecs #jock strap #forced tf #brothers #biceps #mywork

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dr4cking · 3 years

Text

Bad Grade.

masterlist taglist

draco malfoy x reader | smut |

warning : professor!draco 🥵 reader is of age! and you can make up draco's age whatever you wanted.

y/n waited nervously in her class, she was early than the others and it makes her sitting alone in the class.

she had exams last week but she didnt really study for it and that was the exact reason why she was nervous today.

if she got a bad grades her parents would make sure to threatened her.

she looked up from her desk as a loud footsteps walking into the class, she found the youngest and the hottest teacher in hogwarts staring at her deeply, a smirk formed onto his face making her gulped.

"morning, miss y/n" she gets goosebumps when she heard his deep voice calling out her name.

"morning professor.." draco’s smirk get wider as he saw her body tremble in her seat, only his voice and she already like that.

"why so tense, miss y/n?"

"nothing, professor.." she replied, staying her gaze on her desk, trying so hard not to look up at him and get herself in more embarrassment.

draco clicked his tongue around his teeth making her turned her head at him instantly.

he raised his eyebrows at her sudden action.

but when he was about to taunt her more, the door burst open by the students filling the class one by one.

>>>>>

"miss y/n." she looks up at her professor as he called her name, her body jolted out at his voice echoed in the room.

"yes, professor?"

"come here, please." she gets up from her seat nervously, all her classmates already interrogating her by their eyes.

"care to explain to me why you get a P for my subject?" she swears she almost passed out at his intonation.

"i- i'm sorry professor, i wasn't study-"

"great, meet me after class, you need to fix your grade" y/n unknowingly rubbed her thighs together when draco said that, she secretly hoped he doesnt noticed that.

but he did and thats why he was trying to hide his smirk.

"yes professor, i'm sorry" she took her test and made her way back to her seat. hell, he's so intimidating.

>>>>>

after the class ended, y/n being the only one who stayed in her seat.

she sighs and stares at draco's back who was still cleaning the board.

"well, which part of my subject that you dont understand, miss y/n?" draco said as he takes a seat in front of her desk, opening her book.

"its the draught of living death potions, professor." she was trying her best to not let her voice getting shaky.

draco nodded and begin to explaining the subject to her, his fingers were pointing at her book.

but all she could think now is about the tension filling the air, and the more she stares at his fingers the dirtier her mind gets.

his hands-

merlin, even his hands are so hot. the veins decorating his arms suited him so much, and his long fingers are the perfect size to reach her spot when they're going inside her cu-

no.

y/n shook her head in disbelief at what she just imagined in her mind not realizing that draco has stopped talking.

"lost in your dirty mind, princess?" draco chuckles as he sees her cheeks heated in embarrassment, his eyes turned dark as he examining her face.

shit.

she forgot he has legilimency.

"i-"

"sshh.. i see you're not as innocent as the others think of you, yeah?" she gulped at his question, her face was flushed as the thick tension filling the room.

"no answer hm? tell me y/n, what is it that you want?" he rose up from his seat moving to stand beside her, looking down at her.

"tell me whats going on inside your dirty mind" he tilted her head to look up at him, his thumb running on her bottom lip making her shuddered.

"i- i want you, professor.." y/n said quietly not be able to look into his eyes much longer.

"want me? for what?"

"i want you burying yourself deep inside me, professor" she slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened at what she just said.

"filthy little thing." draco chuckles lowly before moving down his hand and grabbed her throat.

"earn it." she nodded at him before her hands shakily unbuckled his belt and his trousers letting it falls down to his ankle making draco gripped her throat tighter.

she pulled down his boxers making him hissed when his semi hard cock hitting his lower abdomen.

she quickly wrapped her hands around his length and squeezes him tightly causing him to pull on her hair.

"dont play with me if you dont wanna face the consequences." she nodded before spitting on his cock stroking it with her hand making him groaned.

y/n wasted no time and pulled him all the way in her mouth moaning when his tip hit the back of her throat.

she starts to fucked him in and out of her mouth. her hand pumping on what she couldnt fit in her mouth.

she pulled out for a second to rest her jaw then she swirls her tongue on his slit making him groaned and bucked his hips. she gagged instantly when draco pushed his cock back in her mouth, tired of her teasing.

"you look so fucking filthy, y/n. sucking your professor's cock now, hm?" she let out a moan to answer him making him whimpered at the vibrations.

one of her hands gripping on the back of his thigh pushing him deeper down her throat as she continues sucking him. her other hand playing with his balls giving them attention too.

"fuck- gonna cum down your throat til you choked out, shit- y/n" he moaned out loud as he shoots his thick cum down her throat, y/n swallowed instantly moaning at the taste. some of it dripped down onto her chin but she quickly wipes it and cleans it.

"get up" she obeyed at his order, now facing her professor at the same level.

draco leaned into her face and capturing their lips together kissing her roughly as his hands roaming around her body.

"get on your desk." she immediately throw away all her things on her desk and get on top of it, like he asked.

"you're my good girl, dont you?" he asked as he stands in between her thighs, his cock rubbing her inner thigh making her clawed on the desk underneath her.

"yes prof-"

"its draco" she nodded as she starts to unbuttoning her shirt showing him her clothed breasts.

"yes draco, i'm your good girl" she said seductively and taking his hands in her guiding them to her breasts.

"please, touch me draco.." draco squeezes her breasts in his hands and snatches her bra off of her making her winced, now she was exposed in front of her professor.

"such a pretty tits, all mine?" he twirled her hard nipples in his fingers, pulling and pinching it making the owner hissed in pain.

"yes, all yours draco.." with that draco latched his mouth onto her left nipple as his hand playing with the other one.

"mmh.. yes draco.." she tugged at his blonde locks as he continues assaulting her puffy nipples.

draco plopped out her breasts of his mouth, her nipples now red and swollen.

he gives her a smirk and he pushed her skirt up to her stomach, taking off her panties placing it in his pocket.

"souvenirs." he grins cheekily at her confused face.

he suddenly inserts his fingers into her, stretching her out a little bit making her breath hitched.

his fingers pumping her faster and when he curls them inside she screams his name out loud.

her legs spasmed when she feels her high approaching her, she dug her nails on his shoulder deeper.

but before she could reach her high, he abruptly pulled out his fingers making her cried out as her aching cunt clenching around nothing.

he quickly shoved his fingers down her throat letting her tasting herself, he moaned when he sees her sucking on her fingers delicately.

pulling her hips closer to him and lining up his now hard cock again on her entrance.

"now be a big girl and lead me into you." y/n whines as a protest but she quickly grabbed his cock and pushing it inside her.

she wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked her hips to get him deeper inside her and finally all of him was inside of her. they both throw their heads back in pleasure.

"you act so innocent yet here you are, burying my cock deep inside you." y/n moaned at his words starting to fuck herself on him.

"i'm not innocent draco, for you i'm not.. please just fuck me already" draco chuckles devilishly at her attempts to bounce on his cock.

"cant even fuck yourself properly, such a dumb girl" he gives in to her, snapping his hips forcing his cock hitting deeper inside her and starts to thrusting at steady pace.

"oh my god.. yes yes please feel so good.." she moans loudly, her body writhing on the desk. she propped herself on her elbows to support herself as she rolled her hips to meet his thrusts.

"so fucking tight baby.. never felt this good before" draco praised as he pounding harder into her, he guides her hips with his hands to meet his thrusts making both of them moaning louder.

her eyes rolled back when his tip brushed her spot, he noticed and pounding into her spot over and over again making her seeing the stars.

"draco please.. i'm so close!" y/n wrapped her hands around his shoulder to pull him closer and kissing his lips to muffled her screams as the coil tightened in her stomach.

"cum on me, you- pathetic- little slut" draco snapped harder leaving no space between their bodies.

his hand slapping and pinching her clit making the girl squirmed letting the coil snapped through her body. her legs are shaking and her vision blurry.

her body burns when she realized she just cummed hard on her professor's cock, she looked down and see that her juices coating him. then looking up at him making eye contact.

"fuck- you're a mess, gonna cum inside your tight cunt, stuffing you up full with my fucking cum- holyshit-"

he came to a full stop with her name left his lips as he spilled all of his warm thick cum inside her, spraying all of it into her filling her up like he said.

draco stay inside her for a few minutes, both of them are still catching their breaths and he pulled out of her gently as he softened.

he looked at her flushed face before cupping her cheeks and reconnecting their lips again. the kiss lasted a minute before they pulled away to redressing themselves.

"i'll change your grade. but in all seriousness, study harder, baby" y/n melted at the nickname he gave her, pecking his lips one more time.

"of course, thank you professor" she shots him a wink before leaving the class, making him blushing madly.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

i dedicate this to @angelic-bitxh cuz we have a deal of sharing ghost pics 😊🤝

tagging : @dracoscum @hellounicorn @onyourgoddamnleft @whoreforgeorgeandfred @turn-to-page-394-please @underappreciated-spoon-321 @youreso-golden @silverdelirium @littlemissnoname13 @dracmalf0y-dm @dlmmdl @f4iryluvy @starstruckgranger @yiamalfoy @lieswithoutfairytales @drxcolvr @black-repunzel99 @seriouslyinlove @slut4dracoo @alexthealexthealex

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #professor draco #draco oneshot #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #draco smut #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #harry potter

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hornime · 3 years

Text

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere.

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched.

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.”

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements.

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.”

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix.

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.”

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs.

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist.

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

#kinky.inky #haikyū!!#haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu smut #hinata smut #bokuto smut #suna smut #sakusa smut #iwaizumi #sakusa #bokuto #hinata #suna #atsumu

4K notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years

Text

warmth - zuko x fem!reader

summary: the two times he notices her shivering and the one time he does something about it.

a/n: lmaoo we have been in a DROUGHT my people. i have barely given you any content this whole month and i feel bad. i wrote this out over the course of a few hours after getting the idea in the shower. i did not proofread. i am not sorry. enjoy.

and NO that end part is not dirty it is simply two kids sharing a bed for warmth bc they got cute lil crushes on each other 🔫🔫🔫🔫

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): this is pure fluff bbbbbb

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three times.

It happened three times before Zuko was finally able to get over himself and have a real, face to face, one on one conversation with the one person he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

Y/N. It was a name that had made a home in his mind, belonging to a girl that had made a home in his heart. He knew that she was a waterbender from the Northern Tribe and that she had joined the team after the Siege of the North, but apart from that, her life was a mystery to him. She was a mystery to him.

It was pathetic. How could he become so enraptured with a girl when he didn’t even know the first thing about her? When he had spent the past couple of months fighting against her, trying everything in his power to hurt her? When she had no idea he even thought about her that way?

Sometimes Zuko questioned himself, but then he caught a glimpse of her — the gleam of her hair, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she laughed, the fierceness with which she fought rivalled only by the way she cared for her injured friends afterwards — and he laughed inwardly.

There was no way he couldn’t feel that way about her. She was simply enchanting.

But there was only one thing he questioned more than his affections — why in the name of Agni could he not just walk up and start a conversation with her? There was no one else in the world that made him as nervous, as flushed, as completely incapable of basic speech as Y/N, and it drove him insane.

It drove him insane that it took three times.

~~~

The first time he noticed her shivering, it wasn’t on purpose.

Zuko was serving tea to everyone as they gathered around the campfire, chuckling as Aang recounted one of their earlier adventures, back when he was still trying to capture the Avatar. Thinking about his past, who he used to be, was painful, but it gave him all the more reason to be thankful for where he was now.

He wasn’t as focused on Aang’s story as he was on Y/N, though. She could hardly keep her thoughts to herself, interrupting every couple of seconds to add a detail that Aang forgot or give her own input on the events that he was describing. He started to frown as he noticed her shivering despite sitting right next to the fire — Zuko didn’t even realize how distracted he was until he felt someone hitting his arm.

“Hey!” He was snapped out of his reverie by the harshness of Katara’s voice, angrily gesturing at the broken teacup and now spilled tea all over Haru.

“Oh— I am so sorry,” he stammered as he crouched down and started to pick up the pieces on the ground. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just.. really hot tea,” Haru muttered with a small wince. “No big deal.”

“You’re right. It’s not a big deal.” Y/N raised her hand and with a small, fluid movement, she bent the liquid out of the fabric and formed it into a tiny sphere in the air. “See? Good as new. And you’re not even burnt.”

Haru chuckled and pulled at his tunic, giving Y/N a grateful nod.

“Can a sky bison drink tea?” She mused as she moved the liquid orb around in the air.

“I don’t think so,” Aang said with a small laugh.

“Shame we have to waste it.” Y/N bent it away from the group and let it fall to the ground, sinking into the rock below them. “Zuko can always make more though, right?” She said with a hopeful smile.

“Uh, yeah. Of course.”

“See, guys? No harm, no foul. You’re the best, Zuko.” She gave him an overexaggerated wink then began to pester Aang to get back to the story, leaving Zuko to continue handing out tea and keep his shaking hands as steady as possible.

She really had no idea the effect she had on him.

~~~

The second time? It was definitely on purpose.

The night was unusually cold, even with the bonfire blazing in the middle, and he found his eyes trained once more on Y/N. This time she was the storyteller, giving them all a taste of Northern Water Tribe culture as she recounted a bedtime story she was told as a child. She had a whole arsenal of character voices at her disposal, keeping everyone thoroughly entertained despite the numerous lines she forgot. Zuko didn’t even realize he was staring until Sokka elbowed him in the elbow, gesturing at her with a nod of his head and a cocky grin.

“What are you doing, just gawking at her like that?”

“Wh— gawking? I am not gawking. I’m— I’m just listening to her.”

“Yeah, sure. But I’m pretty sure Appa could start talking right now and you wouldn’t notice because you are hopelessly into her.” He gestured at Zuko’s eyes with his hand then in Y/N’s direction. “Gawking.”

“I— I am not!” He protested, tearing his eyes away from Y/N’s animated face to give Sokka one of his signature glares. He lowered his voice to a whisper to ensure that no one would hear them. “I’m not into her, I’m not gawking, I am appreciating her storytelling.”

“Uh huh, yeah.” Sokka looked at her and grinned before glancing back at Zuko. “If you’re not into her, then I can ask her out, right?”

Zuko didn’t respond, simply kept glaring at him in hopes that it would intimidate him into backing down so he wouldn’t have to say anything and risk embarrassing himself.

Sokka chuckled and held up his hands. “Alright, geez, I’m just joking. But maybe use some of that fire to keep it going? Looks like she’s cold.”

Almost immediately, he broke eye contact and fueled the fire with a simple blast. Y/N shot him a grateful smile and nodded as she continued her story, and Zuko noticed her hands falling back down into her lap from their former place on her arms.

No amount of fire could’ve caused as much warmth as her smile. He was sure of that.

~~~

There was no way he could miss it the third time. After all, she was the only one there.

Zuko hadn’t been able to sleep so he ended up outside, and there she was — sitting there, all alone in the middle of the temple grounds, shivering quietly with a moonless night sky as her backdrop. Before he could second guess himself, Zuko started walking over.

“Hey.” Y/N greeted him without even looking up as she pulled her arms around herself, bringing her legs up to her chest in an effort to conserve all the warmth she could.

“Hey.” Zuko took a seat on the ground next to her and crossed his legs. “Are you cold?”

She let out an airy chuckle and nodded. “Strange, isn’t it? I grow up surrounded by snow and ice and I’m perfectly fine, but after a few months away a couple of breezes are tearing me down. I don’t get it.”

“You’ve been shivering a lot lately,” he said after a beat of silence. Y/N raised an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile.

“What, have you been looking?”

That sent him stammering. “I-I— yes? I mean— no, I’ve noticed, but I’m not actively looking at you, that’s weird, I’m not— I mean—”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed, the same laugh that sent flutter bats through his stomach and made his heart burst with happiness. She set her hand on his and squeezed, giving him a gentle look that almost immediately ceased his rambling. “Zuko, it’s alright. It’s… nice that you’ve noticed. Like you’re looking out for me or something.”

He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find his voice — he was sure his cheeks were as red as his tunic, just at the simple touch of her hand — and it only got worse as she placed her other hand on top of it.

“You’re warm,” Y/N muttered. “Like… intensely warm.”

“Is that bad?” He wondered aloud, preemptively panicking. “Do you want me to turn it off? I can’t turn it off, but I could find a way somehow—”

“Thank you,” she interrupted with another small laugh, “but no. I don’t need you to uh, turn off your firebending. That already happened once. But you’re adorable to think of me like that.”

The two of them stared into each other’s eyes, the air between them heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. Y/N pursed her lips and bit back a growing smile as she glanced at the ground.

“This is, uh… really helping. With the cold, I mean. And I was… I guess I was just…” Another laugh. “I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to spend the night with me? Just because my room is especially freezing, and you’re so warm, and I think I would sleep a lot better if I—”

Now it was his turn to interrupt her rambling. There was something about her getting so flustered about him in the same way he did around her that made this easier. “I’d love to.”

“Great,” she breathed, the same smile from before returning just a little bit brighter. Y/N stood up and they began their walk back into the temple, hands still intertwined, warmth emanating between the two of them.

Three times.

Two strikes.

One success.

And that was all he needed.

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #atla #avatar fic #atla fic #avatar the last airbender fic #zuko #zuko avatar #zuko atla #zuko fic #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko x reader fic #avatar x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader

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duskholland · 3 years

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Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut

boxer!tom x reader — smut.

summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !

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#the energy that i created in the studio when i wrote this...i can't even begin to describe it. insane. enjoy !!#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader smut #:)#my writing #smut #boxer!tomfic #tom.filth #q

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kkodzvken · 3 years

Text

right here - dabi x f. reader

“it’s happening again but i don’t give a fuck about your friends i’m right here, here. baby take a look around i’m the only one who hasn’t walked out i’m right here, here.” - chase atlantic, “right here”

touya-nii wants his baby sister all to himself. smut + angst, DARK CONTENT, 18+ MDNI

wc: 5k

warnings: stepcest (reader’s mom and rei are together, and reader calls him nii-san/touya-nii), emotional manipulation + toxic relationship, drug use, mentions of violence + murder, dumbification, infantilization (reader’s a crybaby lol), degradation, unprotected sex w no prep

a/n: the lovely @inkykeiji ‘s touya-nii series is my absolute favorite fanwork i’ve ever read, and it inspired me to write this!! thank u so so much clari for letting me post this and for creating such a beautiful world with your words </3

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?”

His words startle you, and you jump with a little yelp, dropping your bag onto the ground in surprise. It lands with a loud thump against the shiny hardwood floor, the sound making you flinch again.

He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Your nii-san was almost never there when you got home from school. He was rarely home before the late hours of the night, well past midnight, when he’d slip into your room without your mother or Rei noticing. Which is why you’d allowed yourself to cry as you walked into the house, why you didn’t bother to wipe away the spidery mascara tears dripping down your face or swipe the snot off your nose. Your stomach coils uncomfortably at the thought of your nii-san seeing you like this, and you duck your head down, sinking onto your knees to retrieve your fallen backpack.

“Princess.” His voice was sterner this time, and it sent a little spike of fear shooting through you. You couldn’t handle his disappointment, not today, not after everything that had happened. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

“S-sorry, Touya-nii,” you stutter, eyes still trained on the floor. He sighs, a dramatic, overly exaggerated sigh that sends another dagger into your heart. You hear the sounds of the couch creaking as he gets up, the sound of his sock-clad feet treading against the hardwood as he made his way to you. His own knees hit the ground, and a large hand finds its way to your chin, long fingers hooking under your jaw and pressing upwards. You let out an involuntary whine as you’re forced to look up at him. Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, you think over and over, bracing yourself for his disappointed glare.

But instead, you’re met with concern swimming through his turquoise eyes. Somehow, that hurt even more than his reprimands would have. He was so busy, already so stressed, and now you’d gone and made him even more worried with your stupid crying. Stupid crybaby. Stupid, pathetic crybaby.

The thought triggers a fresh wave of tears, and you instinctively raise your arms to him. With a coo, he wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. Your face finds its home in his chest, nose buried in his soft cotton t-shirt. Your body shakes as sob after sob pours out. His hands trace comfortingly over your back, rubbing gentle circles against you as he holds you so tight that it almost hurt. But it doesn’t hurt, could never hurt. Nothing ever hurts when it came to him.

“C’mon baby, talk to me,” he whispers against the crown of your head as he presses soft kisses into your hair. “Nii-san can’t help until he knows what’s wrong, baby.”

You sniffle, and then pull your face out of his grey t-shirt, now stained with your tears and makeup and snot. “’M sorry, nii-san,” you whimper. “Sorry for worrying you. ‘M fine, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He tuts at that, and pulls you close again. This time, your face buries into the crook of his neck, your nose pressed directly to his skin. You inhale his familiar scent – Marlboros and spicy deodorant and something distinctive that’s so painfully him – and as it floods your nostrils, it helps to calm your breathing a bit. He’s saying something, his voice impossibly low, even lower than usual as he speaks directly into your ear. You force yourself to pay attention to his words. “…always worry about you, princess, you’re my everything. Don’t hide yourself away from me. You know, you make me more worried by not telling me what’s wrong, and you don’t want that, do you? You don’t want to worry your nii-san, right?”

You shake your head furiously – or, at least, as furiously as you can when his strong arms are caging you tightly against his body. It’s enough, though, because he coos and nuzzles into your hair. “Then tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“It’s stupid,” you mutter against his skin. “I’m just being a crybaby.” You don’t look up, partially because you can’t with how tight he’s holding you, but partially because you didn’t want to see the disappointed expression on his face. “But…my friends. You know, I’ve told you about them. Katsu and Hanta and Eiji and Denki. They…they told me we couldn’t be friends anymore. They said they don’t want to be friends with a stupid baby like me.” Reliving the moment makes your skin crawl, and threatens to make you start crying again, but you blink your eyes to force the tears away and continue. “I don’t understand, Touya-nii! Just yesterday, they walked me home, and everything was fine! And now they hate me! I’m... I-I’m just…” The dam in your chest bursts, and the tears that you were trying so hard to keep at bay erupt at full force.

But your nii-san is there, with his arms wrapped tight around you and his warmth enveloping you. By this point, you’re completely in his lap, your thighs straddling him. You can’t deny that being this close to him affects you, like it always does. The combination of your already fragmented emotional state, paired with his hands that have now snuck under your shirt and weight of his clothed cock pressing against your core, make you desperate. Without realizing it, you’re rocking your hips, chasing bliss in one of the only ways that you know how to.

His warm hands grip at your waist and squeeze. The pain makes you gasp and still your movements, and you look up at him. Your wide eyes, sparkling with unshed tears, meet the blue flames of his own irises. His blown-out pupils cover most of his eyes, but you can see the ring of turquoise that surrounds them, that beautiful cerulean sea that you adore so much. Your heart pangs, and for a second you wish that he’d stop with the drugs and let you see those pretty aqua pools more often. But you catch yourself before you can get carried away. Nii-san knows best, after all. Who are you to question him?

You’re just a stupid baby, like your friends said. You suppose that they’re your ex-friends now, although the thought sends another sob wracking through your body. Touya’s eyes don’t leave yours, and he swipes away at your tears with one of his long fingers. “We’re not fucking right now, baby. You’re too emotional. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

He gently repositions you in his arms so that he can carry you, and then he stands up and walks towards the stairs. You just let him, too dazed to say anything. Touya-nii? Turning down a chance to fuck? What has gotten into him? It’s so out of character that it leaves you dumb and confused. He walks up the grand staircase and across the plush carpeted hallway that leads to his room, easily transferring your weight to one arm so that he can push the door open. He gently lays you onto his plush mattress, and you expect him to climb in with you, but he walks towards his dresser and opens the second shelf from the bottom.

Your heart sinks, but you try and ignore it. Touya-nii knows best. Touya-nii knows best. Touya-nii always, always knows what’s best. He rifles through the various bottles and baggies that he keeps in that drawer before pulling out a little orange bottle filled with blue and white capsules. Wordlessly, he shakes a few out onto his palm before tossing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry. He’s probably used to it, with the way that he swallows more drugs than actual food these days.

He slinks back to the bed and plops down next to you, the weight of his body slightly launching you up. You shriek, and he chuckles. You try to shoot him a glare, but your nii-san is just so pretty when he’s smiling that you can’t help but giggle along. He extends a finger and curls it in a “come hither” motion, and you obey, scooting yourself towards him and nestling into his familiar warmth.

“Your friends are stupid,” he says. It makes you flinch. You had almost forgotten about the reason you were so upset – Touya always made you smile, always took the weight off your shoulders and made you forget about everything that was wrong. But his words are a harsh reminder, and everything comes tumbling down once again.

He notices the shift in you – always so perceptive, always so attentive – and presses a kiss to your forehead. You tilt your head up, desperate for the warmth of his lips against your own, desperate for him to touch you and take the pain away, but he shifts away. “Listen to me first,” he says sternly, and you nod, ever the obedient little puppy.

“Your friends are stupid,” he continues. “They’re stupid, and if they don’t realize your worth, that’s their loss, baby.” One of his hands comes up to cup your face, titling your chin so that he can gaze directly into your eyes. It’s far too soon for the oxys to have taken effect already, but you could swear that his pupils are even bigger than they were before. His eyes feel like an abyss, like black holes, sucking you in. You don’t think that you could ever escape – you don’t ever want to escape. “They think that you’re a dumb baby? They think that you’re too weak and stupid? They’re idiots. You’re my baby, and you’re perfect just the way you are.”

His words are like a fire, and it burns away some of the ice that formed in your chest after you’d spoken to your friends. Still, your pain doesn’t disappear quite so easily. Your little hands clutch his shirt and tug. “B-but I love them, nii-san. I don’t want them to think I’m dumb.”

Touya’s eyes flash dangerously, and your stomach twists. You don’t know what you did wrong, but you’re terrified that you made him mad, that he’ll throw harsh words or blows at you. Or, even worse, that he’ll push you away and leave. But the anger disappears as quickly as it came, and you try to tell yourself that you just imagined it. “I don’t give a fuck about your friends. You don’t need to love them, princess. You don’t need to love anyone else.” The hand that was cupping your face moves down to your chest, and you think that he’s finally going to touch you like you want him to and make you feel good. But instead, he taps at the space between your breasts, his large finger thumping against the spot on your ribs that shields your heart. “This little heart? Princess, you don’t need to give it to anyone but me. I’ll take care of your heart.”

You furrow your brow. Touya has always been protective, has always insisted that you don’t need anyone but him, but this still leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “Touya-nii,” you start to say, but he cuts you off.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, has it, angel?” His words are just leaving you more confused, and you open your mouth to say so, but his hand shoots out and squishes your cheeks like a fish, effectively silencing you. It hurts, with how tight he’s squeezing you, but you can’t deny that the warmth of his hand is comforting. “Everyone’s left. Your dad left. Your mom’s never around. Those girls you used to hang around with, they don’t talk to you anymore. All of my siblings,” he says, spitting the word with so much venom that you recoil, “can’t stand you. And now these boys. Baby, take a look around. I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out.”

His words hurt. They hurt because they’re true, because you scramble to find a single example of someone who love who hasn’t left you, and you can’t. You can’t. Your nii-san is the only one who’s stuck around, who’s listened to you cry and comforted you without running away. The only one who hasn’t recoiled at how sensitive you get, the only one who takes care of you and gives you what you need. A fresh wave of tears springs out of your eyes, and you try to bury your face in his chest, try to do anything but stare at the voids that used to be his eyes, but his grip on your face is far too strong.

“What’s wrong with me?” you whimper.

He coos, and releases his bruising grip, choosing to instead cradle your face again. You expect him to give you comfort, to tell you that there’s nothing wrong with you. You open your heart, ready to embrace the warmth of his words.

“You’re dumb,” he says, matter-of-factly, and your face must betray your surprise, because he begins to rub little circles into your cheek. “You’re dumb,” he repeats. “You’re sensitive, and you’re childish, and you wouldn’t survive a single day without someone taking care of you.”

You don’t register exactly when you started crying again, but tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now, running over his fingers that are still moving across your skin. “But,” he continues. “You’re perfect. You’re perfect for me. You’re too much of a god damn brat for anyone else to handle you, but I can handle you. Only I can handle my dumb baby sister. Do you get it?”

He pauses for a second, giving you time to try and absorb his words. The gears in your mind feel like they’re turning painfully slowly, and you can tell that he notices your confusion, because he gives you a dry smile. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, angel. You’re so dumb.” He knocks his fist against your skull, far too harshly, and you yelp a little at the pain. “There’s nothing going on up here. You’re so damn sensitive and annoying, nobody else can bear to deal with you. Don’t you see, princess, how lucky you are to have your nii-san?”

You nod. Your foggy brain is beginning to understand his words. “I’m…I’m so lucky to have you, Touya-nii.”

He chuckles, and he leans down, and finally presses a kiss against your lips. It’s chaste, and over far too quickly, no matter how desperately you try to prolong it, He pulls away and laughs at the pout on your face. “See, puppy, you’re so needy. Your nii-san gave you a kiss, but you’re still pouting and whining and asking for more. Don’t you see why nobody else likes you?”

You nod again. He’s right, you tell yourself, even though there’s still a piece of your brain that recoils at the idea. It doesn’t make sense, what he’s saying. Your friends never said anything about you being needy before, and your mom’s only gone all the time because she’s working, and, besides, she’s the one who took you and left your dad. It doesn’t make sense, but you push aside the stupid resistant part of your brain. Touya-nii must be right, Touya-nii is always right, and you don’t want to make him mad by being a brat and asking too many questions. You were being so dumb, he had to practically spell it out for you. He’s right. Touya-nii knows best. Touya-nii knows best, Touya-nii always knows best.

You look up at him with your glossy eyes, and he smiles back at you with his empty ones. But you can still see the small ring of turquoise that surrounds the voids, and you latch onto them, dive into those tiny blue-green pools and take respite. “’M sorry for being so needy, nii-san.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos. “My pretty, needy baby. Nii-san’s gonna take care of you, because if it wasn’t for him, who else would? You’d be so lost without your nii-san.”

“So lost,” you parrot back. You want so badly to make him proud, to make him give you more praise and sweet words. “Need you.”

“Fuck yeah you do,” he mutters under his breath, before suddenly pulling your face in close and kissing you. It’s violent, it’s messy, but it’s just what you need. He’s what you need. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, and you cry out as the sensitive flesh breaks. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t care – he just slides his tongue into your mouth, and you can taste your coppery blood on his tongue. Your blood, and the acrid taste of smoke from his Marlboros. It’s not bad though – no, it’s great, because it’s your nii-san and you love him more than words can say. His fingers sink into your hips and push you onto your back, and he climbs over you, teeth leaving little marks all over your soft skin.

“Nii-san,” you gasp, and Touya thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. He breaks away from your neck and revels in the needy whine you let out.

Right now, with your small legs wrapped around his waist and your hands desperately clawing at his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer… this gets him higher than any drug ever could. You get him higher than any fucking drug ever could.

You grind your hips against his, and he growls before leaning down to reclaim your lips. It’s not romantic. Nothing about what you have is romantic, despite what the pretty words he whispers into your ears claim. It’s all a means to an end, a deception to get him what he needs. You’re his drug, and he’d rather die than come down. Would rather die than see someone else get their disgusting fingers on what he owns.

Which is why he was so fucking furious yesterday, when he saw you walking home with those four boys that you call your friends. A joke. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. You really think those boys have any interest in being just friends with you, any goal in mind besides fucking you?

It was honestly just luck that led to him catching you. Jin was too damn stoned to move, and that idiot Tomura had sent Touya to do the runs instead. He was counting the money that a group of scared-looking college students had handed him, making sure that they weren’t trying to stiff him. He knew they weren’t of course – one look at those kids proved that they were too close to pissing their pants to even think about cheating him – but protocol was protocol, and it was there for a reason. Even if that reason was that Tomura’s big, scary daddy would get mad. He had just tucked the bills into his right pocket and reached into his left for the bottle of little green pills that those kids wanted when he saw you. Or, to be more accurate, he saw you being ogled by four boys, their hands all over you as you walked.

It made him sick. He didn’t even realize that he was clenching his fists until the bottle of pills in his hand exploded and little orange fragments sliced his palm. And even then, he barely registered the pain. It was the startled yelps of those kids that snapped him out of his furious haze, and he just threw the pills and plastic shards in the general direction before turning around and marching towards his car. They were saying something, complaining about something or the other, but he couldn’t fucking care less. His hand was bleeding freely by then, and he stopped before getting into his car – he didn’t care about whatever temper tantrum Tomura would throw about his shitty service, but he did care about his white leather seats. With a frustrated groan, he clawed at the wound with his blunt nails and dug out the bits of embedded plastic, and then pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his palm to staunch the bleeding. It probably should’ve hurt more, but the cocaine and rage flowing through his veins were a hell of a painkiller.

He knew those boys, of course. He knew everyone that you interacted with. He drove around for thirty minutes so they’d all have enough time to get home. His work phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and his fingers were too shaky to silence it, so he just smashed it against the dashboard. It sent more little pieces of glass into his already bleeding hand, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care, he didn’t care, didn’t care about anything besides how fucking furious he was right now. He wasn’t mad at you, of course – you were too dumb to realize otherwise. You probably thought those boys were just nice because they liked you, that they only had innocent intentions when they offered to walk you home. Fuck Jin for rolling when he was supposed to be working, and fuck Tomura for deciding that Touya had to be the one to take his place. Touya picked you up from school every day, and he dropped you off in the morning, and he took you wherever you needed to go. You’d assured him that you’d be fine getting home by yourself today. He assumed that you’d take the bus, which made him antsy, of course – plenty of fucking creeps that could get their hands on you, but at least you’d be in public – but seeing you walk home with that pack of wolves behind you made him see red.

Bakugo Katsuki was his first stop. That blond haired bitch had his disgusting hand thrown over your shoulder, and Touya had half a mind to blow his brains out for that. But, no. He forced himself to stay calm and rational, to control his rage and think about what the best solution would be. If all four of your friends suddenly disappeared, you’d be grief-stricken, and Touya couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have his cute little baby sister wasting her pretty little tears over some brats that just wanted to fuck her, to use her.

Killing was Touya’s go-to way of dealing with inconveniences, but if that wasn’t an option, he was a master at intimidation. With his scarred flesh and maniacal eyes, as well as the pretty little switchblade that he’d carried for years, he painted a menacing picture. He had to ring the doorbell seven fucking times before little Katsu answered, and the brat had tried to give him attitude. All that attitude had melted away within just a few moments, though, and poor little Katsu was left snot-faced and promising that he’d never go near you again. The next three had been much of the same, although they were much more initially scared than the blond kid had been.

It was a shame, really, that Touya didn’t get to actually hurt them. He would’ve loved to sink his switchblade into his flesh, would’ve adored their screams and the tearing of their muscles. A shame, but this was for the better. They’d let you down harsh, and you’d come crying into your nii-san’s arms.

You’re just so damn predictable.

He has every one of your reactions memorized, knows your body like the back of his hand. He knows, when he cups your pretty little face with his large hand, you’ll nuzzle into it. When his thumb runs across the seam of your lips, you’ll open them obediently, pulling his fingers into your mouth and sucking so sweetly.

He knows, because you’ve done it hundreds of times before, but it still feels so fucking good each time. The feel of your tongue swiping across his fingers drives him insane, and he has half a mind to just shove his cock in and fuck your face until you’re crying. But he holds himself back, because you’re pawing at him so cutely, begging for him to fuck you, begging because you need him.

“Please, nii-san,” you babble, your words slurred as they try and push past his fingers. “Need you. Need you so bad, nii-san, need to feel you inside me, please.”

“Be patient,” he says, his hand leaving your mouth and trailing your body. “I need to prep you, or you’ll keep fucking whining about it hurting.”

You shake your head furiously. “I can take it, please!”

He’s so beautiful, your Touya-nii. He looks like a fucking god right now, towering over you, backlit by the hazy yellow of his ceiling light. His fingers leave your body and find his belt instead, and he wastes no time in unbuckling it and shoving his pants down. His cock is already hard and weeping, the prettiest shade of red that you’ve ever seen. He wraps his large hand around it, hissing at the contact, the sound so pretty that it makes your heart sing.

You feel like you’re underwater, like chlorine and salt are filling your nostrils and pooling in your lungs. Your body is buzzing, and you so desperately want to throw caution to the wind and take the edge off. Your fingers are itching to touch yourself. But you know better, know that Touya will be mad. And you want – no, need – to be a good little girl for him. You’ve already given him so much to worry about today, with your whining and crying and babbling.

It’s like he said – you’re a dumb baby, right? That’s what he said, and you know that he’d never lie to you. Nii-san knows best, you remind yourself, chanting it over and over in your head like a prayer. He knows best. He’s the only one you have, and you want so badly to make him proud.

The head of his cock presses against your dripping hole. The feeling makes you flinch, but before you can react and further, he’s already pressing his hips forward. “Fuck!” you exclaim, body stinging at the stretch.

His movement pauses, and he looks down at you with disappointment in his pretty eyes. “C’mon now, princess, you know you’re not supposed to use those bad words.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly backtrack as you realize your mistake. “Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry! It just felt so good, nii-san, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking!”

He chuckles at that, dipping his head down to nip at your lips with his sharp teeth. “I know, doll,” he whispers against your mouth, his breath tasting like menthol and smoke. “You never think. My dumb baby sister, got no thoughts in that head of yours, huh? No thoughts besides my cock?”

You nod, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please, Touya-nii. Please fuck me stupid.”

The grin that graces his face is nothing short of sinful. He doesn’t reply with words. Instead, he hooks his massive hands under your knees and pushes up. Your body is like putty in his hands, and you bend at his whims. He folds you up like a doll, your knees pressed up to your chest. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed. But truth be told, you always feel vulnerable around him. You feel like his fiery eyes scorch away at your skin whenever he looks at you, but fuck, you love the burn.

He wastes no time in setting an unrelenting pace, slamming into you so hard that you know your body will be covered in bruises tomorrow morning. Bruises on your inner thighs from his sharp hipbones, bruises on your neck from his teeth. A necklace of purple and blue around your neck in the shape of his fingers. Bruises on your heart from his harsh words, degrading little insults spat against your skin as he fucks into you without mercy. But for every bruise, every insult and painful touch, he gives you the sweetest salve. Pretty little words whispered into your ear, reminders that he loves you, that you’re his.

“My baby,” he grunts, voice shaky from exertion. “Gonna cum. Beg for my cum, my dumb little baby. Fucking beg for it.”

You babble, too far gone for your brain to produce any real thoughts. A jumbled mess of need your cum and please nii-san’s fall past your lips. You can hardly think, but you can always beg for him. Your vision is hazy and your mind is foggy, filled with nothing but thoughts of him, and the feeling of his cock slamming into you, and the heat of his breath against your neck. It hurts, hurts so much, but there’s bliss in the ache.

His fingers slip between your legs and toy with your clit, rubbing harsh circles in time with his thrusts. The combined sensation is too much. With a harsh thrust and squeeze of the hand around your neck, your body explodes. You feel as if you’re in fire, as if there’s electricity coursing through your limbs, burning through your blood and short-circuiting your veins. You cum so hard that it almost hurts, pussy clenching and gushing. Touya lets out a growl, so deep that it makes your stomach flip. He grabs your chin and tilts your face up to meet his, squeezing so hard that the pain cuts through your fucked-out haze and makes you gasp. His lips crash into yours, teeth clacking and tongues swirling as he moans into your mouth and releases. You tremble at the sensation, body overloaded and still buzzing with electricity.

After a few painfully long moments, he shifts and finally lets your legs down. Your muscles scream at the movement. Touya reaches over your body to get a water bottle and press it to your lips, making you tilt your head up and take little sips.

Your arms feel like lead, but you force them to move. They wrap around his waist and tug. Your whines are pitiful, but you’re too tired to be embarrassed. “Snuggles,” you beg, looking up at him with glossy, wide eyes.

“Need to clean you up, doll,” he says. His voice is stern, but there’s a fondness in his expression that warms your heart. You shake your heavy head, trying in vain to drag him closer. He chuckles, dipping down to press an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead. “God, you really are so fucking needy, aren’t you?”

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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years

Note

I have a request for your future work. If you are comfortable writing this topic, I'd love to read it.

I have always had very bad cramps when I'm on my period. I also have PMS so I struggle with pain a week before my period starts. And It makes me think, if I could not let go of this cruel pain until menopause, I'd rather stop living. (Sorry it sounds heavy)

I want Bucky to comfort women who are struggling with serious period cramps ( Dysmenorrhea ) and PMS.

Thank you for reading my request! You can ignore this if you are not feeling right!

I love you so much❤️

Of course!!!

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PMS for Please Make it Stop

Bucky x reader

Summary: Reader suffers from severe cramps and PMS symptoms on and in between her periods. Bucky, her boyfriend, comforts her as much as he can.

Word count: 1666

Warnings: talk of everything that comes with periods, pain and cramps, PMS, fluff

A/N: Thank you for the request, and I am so sorry that it’s so painful for you! I’ve had a lot of experience with “that time of the month” feeling completely unbearable, and I hope that this fic is helpful! I don’t know exactly what you’re going through because each person has different symptoms with different severities and time spans. I truly hope that this helps you! I’m always here to talk as a fellow person with periods and the emotions that come with them!

Tags: @mardema @buckfics @stucky-on-spiderman @buckys2thicc @abitgryffindorky @barnesplums @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes @babyboibucky

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You rolled over in bed, curling in on yourself and using your pillow to suppress a groan. It was early morning, you could tell because the sun was up but Bucky hadn’t left for his run with Steve yet. It was that time of the month again, the one you hated so goddamn much. The one every woman hated so much. But it was never just the few days of blood they had taught you about in sex ed.

You hadn’t been prepared for the cramps, bloating, mood swings, headaches, cravings, and pain…

So. Much. Pain.

You could handle blood, that wasn’t an issue for you. You had seen your share of bloodshed on the battlefield. It was the horrible cramps that felt like something was stabbing you from the inside out constantly for a week preceding the bloodshed that was too much for you. It paralyzed you in a way. It hurt to do anything at all. As much as you hated to admit it, you could deal with any cut, burn, or broken bone. But these cramps had you curled in a ball with tears in your eyes.

You let out another groan and felt Bucky stir next to you. He turned over and rubbed one of his hands up and down your arm and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, why are you awake?” he asked softly, sleep still lacing his voice. There were only 2 reasons that you would be awake. Either you had a nightmare, or...

You let out a small whimper as another wave of pain came over you.

...cramps.

“Hey, it’s okay, come here,” he said before carefully wrapping his arm around your stomach, rubbing small circles over your stomach. He brought his body flush against you so his chest to your back, without squeezing you too tightly. You sighed in relief, his warm body easing your pain slightly. He pressed soft kisses to your temple, whispering reassuring words in your ear.

He had learned a lot rather quickly when it came to helping you with your pain. He hadn’t known much at all at first, growing up in the 40’s where people never talked about it. When he had first walked in on you curled in the fetal position, crying and whimpering, he had been so worried. So when you referred to it as ‘just a period’ and that ‘it’s happened before', he was very confused.

He thought a period was something you ended a sentence with.

You had sent him to Nat and Wanda to explain what was happening. You had synced up with them naturally, but their cramps weren’t as severe as you. Everyone's experiences of periods, their symptoms, and PMS differently, but they felt bad for the severity of yours.

He was very confused as to why he had to ask other people about your pain. When he approached the two wide-eyed and confused, asking why you were in severe pain with no injuries, they had to try not to laugh.

They explained the basics to him, and what was off-limits. No assuming it was happening because of mood swings, no expecting you to keep functioning at peak condition, no mentioning how the emotional mood swings were happening

He was just in awe of it - how women were expected to just act naturally as if they weren’t bleeding at a constant rate while dealing with horrible pain and emotional mood swings. He thought that it was amazing that it was expected that they act naturally.

It took a little bit of trial and error and a lot of patience on both your parts, but he knew how he could help make these days as bearable as he could.

He would spend these days close to you, showing you a lot of affection. He would be gentle and patient with you, reminding you how much he loved you. He would get you anything you needed, be it food or pads or tampons. Once you had sent him to get pads and tampons and he had come back with one of every box with a sheepish look on his face.

“I didn’t know which ones you wanted so I got...all of them.”

You had laughed so hard that it hurt, but it was worth it. He made you promise not to tell Sam.

But eventually, he had learned what you needed. How he could help. The heat helped ease your cramps, so he’d hold you close, but not tightly. Rubbing your stomach helped too, in slow, lazy circles.

While he hated seeing you in pain, he loved taking care of you. Anything he could do to help you he would do.

Another cramp made you shift slightly, trying to find the impossible position that would help relieve the constant pain. You let out a small groan, trying to curl in tighter on yourself. Bucky pressed a small kiss to your temple.

“It’s okay angel, it’s alright.”

“It hurts,” you said, voice cracking.

“I know it does, I know,” he said, using his left hand to brush some hair out of your face.

“I just want it to stop hurting so much,” you said, letting out another pained whimper.

“I can’t imagine,” he said, sincerely. He couldn’t imagine the same pain every month with no relief or solution. He knew just how strong you were, strong as anyone on the team if not stronger. Seeing you in this much pain must have meant it was unbearable.

“I can’t make it go away but I’m here to do whatever I can to help, okay?” he whispered against your skin.

“I’m sorry about this,” you said.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Did you choose to go through this?” he asked softly.

“N-no.”

“Then you have nothing to apologize for.”

You nodded slightly, your heart melting. You tried to take slow and even breaths. After a few moments passed, he asked “Can I help you to the shower? You always say how much the hot water helps.”

You paused for a moment before you nodded, and he pressed another kiss to your temple before standing up and moving to the other side of the bed to help you stand. Moving from your position sounded like the worst idea right now, but you took a deep breath before taking his hands. You sat up slowly, groaning as your hand wrapped around your stomach. You stood up shortly after, bending forward slightly as you made your way to the bathroom with Bucky. He had noticed a bloodstain on the bed, but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to know that.

He turned on the water for you, checking the temperature every few moments. Once he deemed that it was hot enough but wasn’t going to burn your skin, he told you and gave you a quick hug before giving you some privacy. You had always enjoyed intimate showers together just...not when you had your period to worry about. When he closed the door, you started to slowly undress to get into the shower. You got into the shower, sighing in relief as it helped soothe your cramps.

Bucky, meanwhile, was working fast. First he texted Steve that he wouldn’t be able to make it to training today, knowing he would understand. He then moved to make the bed with clean sheets, so you wouldn't see the small bloodstain on the current ones. He didn’t want you to worry or feel bad about it. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts that you had always loved. He cracked the bathroom door open and placed them on the counter, careful not to disturb you. He then quickly ran down to the kitchen, still empty for the moment, and grabbed a few of your favorite snacks along with a few water bottles to bring back upstairs.

When he came back to the room, he noticed the water had been turned off. He set the water and snacks on the bedside table as you opened the bathroom door, hair in a messy bun and looking much more refreshed. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” you said quietly before wincing slightly. Bucky gave you a small smile before taking your hand and bringing you over to the bed, him sitting down and leaning against the headboard. He helped you sit down between his legs so you were able to lean your back against his chest. You laid your head back against him and he wrapped his arms around you so his human arm was on your lower stomach, his metal arm resting over it. You let out a small sigh, relaxing back against him. He pressed a small kiss to your temple, rubbing smooth lazy circles on your stomach.

“Try to get some rest, doll.” he whispered. “We can watch your favorite movie when you wake up.”

You turned slightly to look up at him. “But you hate that movie.”

“But you don’t,” he said simply.

You felt tears brim your eyes even though it felt so stupid. “I love you, Bucky.’

“I love you too angel,” he whispered, pressing a last kiss to the side of your head. “Try to get some rest.”

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baekhvuns · 3 years

Text

the duke and his general.

synopsis : in which seonghwa is the duke you’re arranged to, while you’re the general of the royal army.

pairing : seonghwa x reader

themes : angst, romcom & smut.

word count : 15k ( part three + final )

three weeks.

three weeks since you last saw the man you once loved.

“miss y/n, would you like your breakfast in the room?”

you lift your head up front the mountain of blankets piled up on you, with a hazy smile and tired face you nod. “that would be great, thank you.”

you shut your eyes once the maid leaves, wanting nothing but the nauseous feeling in your stomach to stop, but the pounding headache makes you shoot up in panic.

your hand automatically flies to your mouth and your eyes widen, you run to the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat up before puking your guts out.

you’re breathing heavily and it feels like you’re about to die, as if someone’s squeezing your insides. tears run down you cheeks and you open your mouth once again.

clutching your shirt tightly you swallowed, “s-seonghwa, where are you?” you call out. flushing the toilet, you get up from the ground, stepping towards the sink to clean yourself.

“hwa,” you call out once again, but no one responds. holding your stomach, you walk out to see the maid standing there with worry etched on her face, you smile lightly and take a seat.

“miss, are you alright?” the elderly lady asks you nod through the insane headache you have, “the duke, he’s gone for a trip, he’ll be back before dinner.”

you nod once again and she leaves the tray beside you with a worried face, “thank you.” once she leaves, your eyes settle on the delicious food made for you.

as much as you want to eat it, your stomach is telling you no. it’s as if you have no appetite left, as if all of it was flushed down the toilet. you push the tray away, and shut your eyes before laying on the bed again.

the next time you wake up, it’s the evening. your room is cleaned by the maids and it’s empty. your bed is cold, but the headache seems to disappear, you lift yourself up and glance around the room.

still, no sign of seonghwa.

ever since the day he yelled at you for going to the war, which you were rightfully wrong in, he hasn’t spared you a glance. you know the ‘trip’ he’s gone to is just a way to ignore you, and truthfully, you do deserve it.

after all, you did think recklessly and went to fight on the battlefield. but you had a valid reason, but the man just wasn’t ready to listen to any of your talk.

your hand lifts up to caress your neck, the wound on it patched up in a white bandage. it hurt, you’re sure their might be a scar forming on it already, if not, you’ve already been scarred by his words.

a sigh flees your lips, your hair falls over your shoulders and you stand up to walk outside. the walk to the gardens is short but it feels like forever, there’s no one in the palace.

guards are off for their afternoon break, yet a few of them are having lunch in their quarters. you decide to take a seat on the white bench that overviews the garden, the sun rays pout down on you and the slight wind eases your nauseous mood.

you usually sit beside seonghwa on this bench, his hands around your shoulder and his chin resting on your head. no matter how much you tried to get away from him, he’d pull you even closer, whining in your ear about you not giving him enough attention.

you smile at the sudden memory reeling through your mind, but then it fades, and it reminds you that he’s not beside you. you’re sitting alone in a field of flowers with a hand on your stomach, caressing it slowly.

you wander around the palace, eyes lowered to the floor because you didn’t want to meet the pity stares of the workers. one of them being kind enough to make you something to eat, that which you ate in the silence of the kitchen and again, you felt nauseous.

you held your head in your hands, lips trembling and your eyes watery. low sniffles echoed the kitchen and your hair acted as a curtain, covering your face.

your shoulders shake slightly as tears rolled down your cheeks, you’ve never felt so weak in your entire life. it’s weird, because you’re supposed to be stronger in the time, you’re in, but it really is disappointing when the only person you’ve loved isn’t by your side.

when you hear footsteps from afar, you quickly get up. wiping your eyes so that no traces of tears were visible, you let your hair fall in-front of your swollen eyes and walked by the group of people who you only recognized as your comrades.

“y/-“

you walk straight past them, have been for the last few weeks. avoiding their calls for your name and speed walking down to your room, locking yourself in.

the guys look at each other unsurely, san sighs before leaving them standing in the middle of the hallway. the rest glance at each other, silence enveloping them all.

“what do we do?” yunho breaks the silence, running a hand through his hair.

hongjoong shakes his head, “we can’t do anything, he’s the only who can do something to fix whatever’s happening.”

“but we can’t just do nothing, i don’t think i’ve ever seen her so down.” wooyoung squeaks, swallowing at that thought.

“where even is he?” yeosang breaks his silence, “i haven’t seen him in days.”

“he’s spending time down at the stables, he’ll be back around dinner.” with a tired sigh they all walk to their respective places.

and when night does fall, all of them finding each other sitting down sitting down by the table. the king and queen sitting at the farther end, you sitting opposite seonghwa while the rest sit wherever they wanted.

you play around with the food placed on your plate; you haven’t lifted your eyes ever since you walked in here. choosing to sit quietly in your chair while nibbling on the food that you don’t crave for.

the dinner is silent, if not for the random conversations created by wooyoung and san and occasionally by the rest. seonghwa’s mother talks to you and you could hear the excitement in her voice, she goes on and on about her wish for seonghwa to have kids.

you resist the urge to laugh with her, showing a smile as she handed you extra portions of the food you’ve barely touched.

and as for seonghwa, the man sitting in front of you seems unrecognizable, he’s sitting proper, hair brushed back with a smile on his face that’s so fake that it hurts to look at, he chats with hongjoong who sat beside him.

he hasn’t dared to look at you in the eye but you know him too well, you know it’s hurting him to do this but he’ll do it until it quenches his satisfaction.

just as you bring a bite of food near your mouth, your eyes widen and you stare at seonghwa before glancing at his mother, who thankfully, was already looking at you.

you flash her a look of pain before shooting your hand up to your mouth, eyebrows crossed you cursed in your mind.

“i-“ you start but you’re not able to finish because you make a run for it your room. holding onto your stomach as you ran, leaving the rest in confusion.

seonghwa’s mother immediately rushes behind you, leaving the rest. the guys get up from their seats, face etched in worry as they watch you run with confused yet worried eyes.

seonghwa’s father, the king, himself is worried but when his eyes land on his son sitting calmly, eating his food as if nothing had just happened, made him confused yet irritated.

san’s eyes shot daggers into seonghwa’s skull, jaw clenching at the fact that your husband is blatantly ignorant you while you’re pregnant. his face shows utter anger for the man before he walks to your room, hongjoong follows soon after.

his father gives the rest of the guys a nod and they too find themselves walking to your room, leaving only him and seonghwa in the room.

“what do you think you’re doing.” his father questions, wiping his hands on the napkin.

seonghwa looks up, “having dinner, father.”

his father raises his eyebrows, “oh, and how about y/n? your wife?”

“what about her?”

his father squints his eyes at him, “your wife, who’s pregnant and is sick, while you’re sitting here as if you don’t know her! how inconsiderate you are.”

seonghwa clenches his jaw at his father, but when his father gives him a look, he tones it down. “you’ll behave the same way if you find out what’s she did.”

“i do not care what she has done, what matters is her health and the child she’s carrying, your child!”

“dad, she went to the war!” he yells, finally loosing it. “she went to the war alone knowing she was not in the right condition too!”

his father stands up, “you, go to her right now. what matters is that she’s alive, right now she needs you the most but you’re here sitting as if none of it bothers you!”

“you’re stubborn,” he pauses, “just like your mother.”

the entire week had been tough for you, you had terrible morning sickness, crazy headaches, uncomfortable sleep patterns, tiredness and barely any appetite.

fortunately, seonghwa’s mother had been by you through all of it, with some special appearances from san and hongjoong who seemed to have made it their schedule to visit you four times a day.

your cravings for certain foods had increased drastically, which made san run to the markets late at night to get you what you wanted. or how sensitive your nose had gotten, almost making hongjoong shower three times.

on the nicer and not hard times, you were able to be in your bed the entire day. or take a walk in the gardens while one of the guys accompanied you, lifting your mood up with their jokes.

but you didn’t want any of that, you wanted seonghwa.

speaking of him, he is in the palace, but sleeps in a different room. eats at a different time as you so he wouldn’t have to see you, or when you two walk by each other, he barely looks at you but you bow your head at him.

“it’s your highness for you.”

you hated doing it, hated it when he didn’t look at you. as much as in the past you’d shoo him away, now you were urging for the said man. hoping he’d at least exchange a few words with you.

but you aren’t blind either, you know he asks the maids to check up on you, or just to check on the baby growing inside of you. you know he sees you walk around the hallways, hiding the pain on your face from the cramps.

his mother and father sympathized with you, offering, and helping you with anything you needed.

but failing to bring one man.

others couldn’t help but be upset at the situation, guards who stood outside your room late at night could hear the faint sound of you weeping.

the guys weren’t blinded to it either, they could hear your cries at the late hours of night. when you think everyone’s fallen asleep, they hadn’t seen such side of you and it shocked them but also made them angry at the man.

so when you decided you have had enough, with his parents permission you pack your bags and leave the palace for a few days or even more. finding home at your parent’s, who welcomed you with bright smiles not knowing what had really happened.

your mother fed you the butteriest meals ever, never not leaving your side even for a minute. or how your father brought a thick book full of names, sitting on his favourite burgundy couch with his glasses on and a lamp turned on beside him, looking over the lists of names to find a contender.

or how your older brother had joined, returning from the navy only to bother you by mentioning ridiculous names to name his niece or nephew. he brought home multiple toys and takes the time to accompany you to the market, lending a hand for holding the bags.

“seriously y/n, if it’s a girl, name her-“

“for the last time sehun, i’m not gonna name my child after some fancy revolver or a alcohol brand!”

“no, but imagine nam-“

“i’m not gonna name my kid ak-47!”

“how about hennessy!”

“get out of my face!”

and as for the the situation in the palace, let’s just say no one has spoken about you for the past two days. you had been living with your parents and they all couldn’t be more happier knowing you’re in a much better environment.

they continue their daily activities at ease, visit you once and in a while and careful not to mention you.

and his royal highness, the duke of eden, park seonghwa sits inside his office. his second home, files piled up to his neck but none of them seem important to him.

his eyes are stuck at the door, waiting for the maid to walk in and put him at ease. by of course, telling him about you.

he’s keeping track of time, eyes flickering from the clock to the door. he finds himself being more and more impatient, tapping his feet under his table repeatedly.

“where is she,” he says, having waited too long he stands up and leaves his office to go and find the maid himself.

when he doesn’t find her, he asks another one who had just walked out a room. she hastily bowed down but he dismissed it all, “where is y/n?” he watches her eyes grow wide.

“you highness, you’ve told us not to talk about her.”

“you see, i’m- just tell me how she is,” he says, and she slowly lifts her head up.

“the duchess, she’s not in the palace.”

“what?”

“she hasn’t been in then palace for days now, i believe today is the third day.”

his eyes widen, “where is she?”

“that i do not know, your highness.” and with that she walks away, leaving a wide eyed seonghwa panicking in the hallway.

he stops for second, the skin between his eyebrows touches before moving back. he runs a hand through his black hair, eyes wandering left and right.

when it finally clicks in his mind that you’re gone, his face drops in disbelief. he walks down the hallway to your room, wanting to see it for himself and tell himself that you were in the palace.

but when he opens the door his shoulders immediately slump, he walks inside. clenching his jaw as your scent hits his nose, a wave of worry washes over him when he doesn’t see you anymore, not in the room or the bathroom.

instead, it’s empty, his breathing wavers and his voice calls for you. but no one responds, he then walks out, his footsteps turn into him sprinting down the halls, searching every single room in the big palace. he can’t find you anywhere.

he finally turned left and burst open the door, breathing heavily his eyes falling over the guys sparing him a glance before continuing their work.

“where’s y/n?” he breaths out, walking in and slamming his hands on the table.

wooyoung looks up, “what do you want?”

seonghwa bites his lips, ticking his eyebrow at the nonchalant attitude of wooyoung. “where’s y/n, and what’s with that attitude?”

hongjoong drops his files with a bang and glares up at the man, “what’s with your attitude? and why do you even care, you didn’t want to see her face two seconds ago, now what happened?”

“ah, did your brains finally fall back in place?” wooyoung brings his hands behind his head, leaning back on the chair while eyeing seonghwa up and down.

“just tell me where she is,” seonghwa spits out, “why isn’t she in her room?”

“ask yourself that, why isn’t she here? how big of an idiot are you?”

“a big one,” mingi adds.

“she’s not here, and for the better.” san speaks from the back and seonghwa scoffs.

“and what would you know is the better for her?” he retorts.

“she knows what’s better for her, none of you need to decide it. and for your information she’s at her parent’s house,” hongjoong pauses, “because she couldn’t deal with the atmosphere you created.”

seonghwa runs out, ignoring whatever hongjoong mused at him. in his mind, he had to see you and so he walked to the stables and rode a horse to the town, where you were.

“have you already thought of a name?” you glance shortly at your mother, who cupped her face in her hands, eyes blinking, wide and bright.

“no,” you respond, focusing on the mandarin you were peeling before tossing it in your mouth.

you heard her sigh, and she holds your hand. “y/n, what’s going on,” her warm voice asked, and you shook your head.

“nothing,” you ate another piece and then your mother smacks your hand lightly.

“i know something is!” she exclaims, “you and seonghwa fought, didn’t you?”

“we did,” you confess, and she shoots you a look. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” with that you get up and walk away, ignoring the calls of your name.

you find purchase in sitting on the swinging couch in the small garden your family had, throwing your head back and looking off into nothing. your white dress hung off the swing, arms resting on the armrest.

your mother watches you and elicits a sigh, her body leans on the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest as she watches you with a bitter smile.

when sunset falls around, you’re holding onto a sword. swinging it with one hand while your dad prepares the grill in the back, trying not to burn down the house.

when you sit down to eat, you’ve forgotten about everything. sitting and just eating whatever was on the table, with a content smile you eat doubles of everything.

once it’s over and you’re walking over to your room, your mother pulls you into the kitchen randomly. your wide eyes scan her, and she holds a box of strawberries, nudging it at you.

“oh, thank you,” you grab the box from her, “how’d you know i’ve been craving these.”

your mother smiles knowingly, watching you pop one in your mouth with a grin.

“seonghwa dropped by,” you slowly look up, swallowing.

“okay,” you squeak out, eyes flickering to wall behind.

she then leans back, “he brought the strawberries,” you paused, “he said you would be craving them.”

with a frustrated sigh you put the box on the counter, your mother leaves the room, and you glance at the strawberry you held in your hand.

the only person who knew you were wanting these were san, who you sent at the ungodly hours of night to the market. considering that, seonghwa would have no idea about this unless san told him, which was unlikely, or seonghwa watched over you.

you run to grab your jacket and leave your house to walk to the palace. frowning at the audacity of this man, who can’t seem to talk to you up front and instead becomes a coward.

you march inside the property, dismissing the stares you were getting because first, you’re in the palace, second, you’re marching in furiously and third because you’re not exactly wearing the clothes seeing the weather.

you knew seonghwa wouldn’t be in his new room, so your best option was to barge in his office. and that’s exactly where he was, standing and glancing out the windows.

“park seonghwa,” you burst in through the door, eyes falling on his tall figure dressed in black, leaning on the window frame.

he glances over his shoulder before looking out the window, his eyes are shut and his fingers grip the frame.

“what are you doing?” you say, “hm? sending those stupid strawberries instead of actually coming to talk to me?”

your clench your jaw at the lack of his response, “why do you suddenly seem to care now when you haven’t spared me a glance in the last two weeks!”

you exhale harshly and walk up to him, grabbing his arm and turning him around. his face shows no emotion, and you push his shoulder, “why! why aren’t you saying something?”

“what do you want me to say?” he responds and you bite the insides of your cheek, hearing his voice after so long, it still shoots butterflies in your stomach.

you stare at him in disbelief, “hwa,” you whined. “what’s wrong with you, i’ve apologized so many times and yet you never say anything!”

you continue, “i know you send those meals by the hands of the maids,” your eyes tear up. “i know you see me around the palace but choose to ignore me, i know you walk by our room every night so that you know i’m inside, i kno-“

“god damn it! do you even know why i went to the war?” you yell, eyes flickering between him and the floor.

“to protect you, you don’t know this but a day before the war.” you pause, contemplating if you really want to say this.

the night before the war, yeosang burst through your office doors, yanking your arm and dragging you to his office without even getting the chance to say hi.

“yeosang, w-what’s going on?” you ask the man holding your wrist, stepping in his room only to see a patient bandaged over his legs, arms and head.

you glance at yeosang in confusion, asking him to explain why exactly he brought you here especially when there’s someone he’s tending to.

before yeosang gets the chance respond, the man in front immediately stands up, hissing and then bowing.

“gener- your highness,” his low and gritty voice goes onto introduce himself, “i can’t reveal my name, but i have to tell you something.”

you exchange glances with yeosang who nods, ushering you to a chair, and he comes to stand behind you.

“what happened to you?” you ask out of worry, eyeing the white bandages over him.

“dorado,” the man says, “dorado is after you.”

you tilt your head, “dorado, the one we all helped?” he nods turning to yeosang.

“they’re the one who will be attacking you, they’ll be planning for night, perhaps in the castle as well.”

he stops, “but your highness, they’re also planning to kill off eden’s heir.”

yeosang watches the man, stunned. “seonghwa? the duke?” and the man nods.

you and yeosang exchange glances before looking at the man in unison. “explain everything to us in detail.”

“a messenger had come to the palace telling me and yeosang, that they were after you! the enemies were going to kill you park seonghwa!” you cry out loud, “and you want me to sit back and watch my husband die when i knew what was going to happen?”

“but no! of course you wouldn’t listen,” you breathe out loud and shaky, “did you want our child to grow without their dad?”

your eyes drop to his hands, the ones he’s gripping the windowsill with. “do you think that i, i would let you die?”

“for the love of god, seonghwa say something!”

tears roll down the apples of your cheeks, the wind coming from the window stinging as the man standing in front of you turns his back. looking out the window in silence, pretending as if there is no one in the room screaming at him.

your shoulders slump down, a hand taking through your hair you shut your eyes in frustration as tears rolled down.

all you could feel was emptiness, frustration, anger and pain.

“the day you quit being a general, is the day everything will go back to normal.” you hear his voice cut through the silence.

you stare wide eyed at the man, mouth parting to form out words but you’re so shocked at what he goes on about that nothing comes out.

“seonghwa,” you grit out, “how dare you.” you spit out with such a tone that it has shivers running up his body.

“how dare you ask me to quit something i have spent my entire life working for.” you stare at him with such disgust and anger that you lift your hands up by your head.

“what you do,” he says, “only brings problems, and going to a war?” he says with a scoff and you shoot him a glare.

“i’ve spent my entire life to protect you, your parents and your home.” you take a step forward, “you,” you point at him, “you wouldn’t even have been alive if not for me, you have no right to tell me what to do, you’ve lost it all.”

you hastily grab your wedding ring, the one he gave to you with such adoration and love. but now it burned into your skin, just like the way his words cut you.

“i’m selfish,” you repeat the words he told you, “i’m horrible, park seonghwa i will show you how selfish and horrible i can be.”

clenching your jaw, you slipped off the wedding ring, griping it in your hands tightly because it hurt, it hurt letting everything go.

“go find yourself a princess, who’ll bear your children and make you happy by not going to a fucking war.”

you slam down the jewelry on his table with such force that you’re sure it will create a mark, he jumps at the sound but never looks back.

you stare at his back for a few beats of silence, “i’ll leave.” you wipe the tears rolling off your cheeks.

“but hear this,” you pause, fists shaking and eyes staring at the shiny ring on the table.

“don’t you ever come looking for me, do you want a divorce? send me the paperwork and i’ll sign it, and then i’ll leave.” you pause to inhale, “i’m sorry to you, and to my baby for putting you two in danger.”

seonghwa spins his head, so fast, eyes wide. “my? ‘my baby’ so i’m nothing, it’s not ours?”

“nothing.” you grit out, “never have, never will.”

“i’ll send a letter when the child’s born, until then, don’t you ever come to me, you had the chance to fix this.” you point your finger at him, “we could’ve fixed this right here, but now, don’t come begging for my forgiveness.”

you turn on your heel and with one last glance over your shoulder. “because i won’t forgive you, this comes from general y/n.”

“goodbye, your highness.”

“yeosang, just go back.”

you stared at the blond, a rag in his hands as he runs everywhere to clean the surroundings.

“t-that won’t happen y/n,” he turns around, leaning his elbow on the table behind. “that’s between you and seonghwa, i’m here as not only a friend but your doctor.”

you lean back on the cushioned chair, “you don’t have to come over every day, i’m fine here alone, really.”

yeosang lets out a sigh, folding the rag and walking forward to sit opposite you. “y/n, i will come over any day i can, the other’s will too, until seonghwa-“

“just don’t,” you stop him, “i don’t want to hear anything from him.”

“y/n.” he gives you a look.

“yeosang.” which you return, pressing your lips together.

he eventually lets out a sigh and then lifts his hands by his side, “you win, whatever.” you grin, grabbing a cushion to throw it at the man, who successfully dodges.

“how long are you planning to stay here?” he quips, blowing the nonexistent dirt of the cushion before ticking an eyebrow at you.

“i...really don’t know,” you shrug, “maybe i just won’t ever return?”

“no, no, you can’t do that!” he immediately interjects. “y/n, you have to understand that as much of an asshole your husband is, you can’t top the asshole level.”

you snort out loud, shaking your head. “is asshole even the right word yeo? he’s left me first, and now i’ve left him.”

“what’s the difference?” you quickly add, finding a particular interest to the carpet.

“you’re still wearing his ring,” he points out and your eyes fly to the black band. “you’re living here as if he won’t find out where y-“

“you won’t tell him nothing,” you add, “neither will you or the guys open your loud mouths in front of that man.”

he shoots his eyebrows to his forehead, an amused smile on his face. “that man,” he mocks, bobbing his head to the side.

you two stay quiet for a few seconds until he speaks once again, “will...will you ever go back to him?”

you chose to stay still, sucking on the insides of your cheek. eyes everywhere except the blond’s who sighs in defeat.

“i’ll ask the workers to send in food supplies every week, i’ll be visiting weekly for your check up and don’t you dare do something stupid when i’m not here.”

you let out a genuine smile, “thank you, yeosang, really.”

he shakes his head with a shy smile, “just don’t die on us, and especially on seonghwa.”

“y/n.”

“hongjoong, i’m not going to go and see him.”

“he’s been asking for you— well to me, more subtly, but you know what i mean.” he grunts, pouring a cup of chamomile tea in the fine china.

ever since the day you left the palace of eden, you found home, not at your parents but the villa seonghwa had owned. the balmoral villa, the one by the seashore, the one you two talked about and the one where you wanted to raise your children in.

it had a rustic feel from the outside, but the inside was modern royalty. when you first entered at night, a large portrait of you and seonghwa hung over the fireplace, on the tall walls welcomed you.

it looked so intimidating at night, but when the moonlight shines through the large windows, it looked ethereal. a picture of you sitting and seonghwa standing behind you framed in gold.

you stared at it for a few minutes before eventually leaving, walking around the small villa, to see every nook of it.

but your favourite was the master bed, where a balcony connected to the outside. a view of the sea, with mountains caving in to make it seem private. you saw the silent horizon that day, so dark and brooding but so calming.

you’ve stayed here for around a week now, and your favourite thing was to stay awake until the late hours of the night. a warm cup of tea in hand, a mahogany fleece blanket wrapped around you and your eyes stuck on the single lighthouse in the distance.

a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, lonely, just like you.

“i couldn’t care less hongjoong, let him ask for me, keep telling him lies.” you sip on the hot tea, shuddering a little.

“but we can’t keep doing that,” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“and what he did to me was right?” you interject, “hongjoong, imagine your husband blatantly ignoring you throughout one the hardest points in pregnancy.”

“and then, sending a stupid box of strawberries as a what? compensation? and when he could’ve fixed things, he tells me to quit being a general.”

“he cares for you y/n.”

you shake your head, “does he? he cares for our baby, i don’t matter hongjoong.”

“and as much as i know me, i wouldn’t dare hurt my child like that. if i don’t matter to him, what’s the point in going back?”

the man in front stays quiet, silently agreeing to whatever you were saying because you were right. his friend had just lost a piece of his mind that he can’t seem to get back right now, your anger is valid.

hongjoong winces at the fact that seonghwa seemed to forget, that the mother comes first, if there is no mother, then there is no child.

you, have endured almost everything. hongjoong glances at you, remembering what you’ve been through not only from the military but even now and yet you set out with a smile.

“if he’ll come back to his senses,” you shrug, “would you forgive him?”

you let out a tired sign, glancing at the man who stared at you. “i don’t know hongjoong, all i know is i don’t want to see him.”

he nods, bringing the cup to his lips. “how’s your health, you know, the kid.”

he watches your face brighten, a hand immediately resting on your stomach. “there’s a little bit of a bump forming, it’s cute.”

he grins against the cup whispering a, “he would’ve been over the moon,” before lifting his eyes to you, “i think the child’s a girl.”

“really?” you ask, wide eyed. “well, whoever the child is, as long as they stay healthy it doesn’t bother me.”

he smiles one again, slowly standing up. instructing you to take your meds, cook food and make sure to eat and lock all the doors and only then fall asleep.

you nod to every single one of them, grabbing his shoulders before literally pushing him outside because the man wouldn’t shut up.

once he leaves, you lock the big doors and press your back against them. sighing as your eye’s glances around the entrance lobby, your thoughts twisted to seonghwa.

“idiot,” you mutter, lowly but it echoes the room. craning your neck down, your eyes landed on your stomach. “your dad’s a big idiot, you know? i hope you don’t go on him.”

“seonghwa.”

“yes,” he stares, “father.”

the older man folds his hands on his knees, “where is y/n?”

seonghwa blinks, flickering his eyes from his fathers to the wall behind. “s-uh, i think she’s at her parents.”

“you think?” he tilts his head when his son doesn’t respond and instead chooses to keep his head down.

“seonghwa,” he starts, “i haven’t seen her around for a few weeks now.” the statement comes off more as threat, as if interrogating the man, eyeing his son with a stern face.

“and you don’t know where she is?”

when seonghwa does decide to open his mouth, his father beats him too it. “fath-“

“you imbecile, she’s your wife! she’s pregnant and carrying your child!”

he flinches at the sudden raise in volume, “but father, she’s-“

“no, i’m not going to hear anything from you.” he interrupts him, “go find her, if something happens to her. park seonghwa you best believe you’re dead.”

seonghwa swallows once his father leaves the room, bringing his head in his hands. shutting his eyes for a brief second only to be fly them open when hongjoong walks in.

“seonghwa what are you doing?” he barges in angrily, taking a seat in front of him. “what big of an idiot are you!”

“hongjoong, if you’re here to lecture me about y/n,” he starts, “then leave.”

hongjoong narrows his eyes at him, “do you know she’s not at her parent’s house?”

“w-what,” he cracks, “then where is she? she was at her parent-“

“was,” hongjoong interrupts, “what is going on with you seonghwa?”

“since when did you,” he raises his fingers to point at the man, “become like this?”

“lo-“

“no, you listen.” he puts a hand up, “seonghwa, you and y/n are married.”

“you’ve, okay, not liked each other at first but somewhere along the line you two have fallen for each other without realizing and it only got deeper!”

seonghwa sits quietly, “you love her, i know you do. everyone knows you do, and even y/n does, so why the hell are you doing this? isn’t it only bringing pain?”

hongjoong watches the man’s face twist into different emotions before continuing again, “seonghwa, grow up. you two have been married for almost two and a half years, and just a war broke it all?”

“the war, if she got hurt then what?” seonghwa finally speaks, “what would i have done without her? what would i have done without our child?”

“it’s her job! be it she’s pregnant or not, she knows better, she knows what protective measures she’s got to take just to protect the small life she’s got inside of her, she’s not a general for nothing!”

“you’re not making anything easy either, you’re forgetting that you love her!” hongjoong lifts his voice, “your mind is stuck on the baby and it’s health! but did it ever cross you how you’ve been forgetting y/n?”

“did you care about y/n getting hurt or only the kid? you yelled and screamed at her for taking your child to the war when all she wanted was to protect the father of her child!”

“did you forget that, the mother comes first?” he lowers his voice, stern yet powerful. “you doing this will ruin your already strained relationship with y/n, and it will affect her health.”

when seonghwa stares at him with his mouth parted, hongjoong stands up and jabs his pointer finger in his chest.

“do you realize what you’ve done seonghwa?”

“fuck,” seonghwa whispers, “oh god.”

“you told her to quit something she’s been doing longer than she’s been married to you,” he grits out.

“i-i did,”

“you yelled at her for getting injured, you didn’t care, you only cared for the child.”

“i did, o-oh my god.”

“you ignored her during when she needed you the most, did you know she cried, she cried because of you?”

“then what am i supposed to do!” seonghwa lets out, breathing heavily. “she came to me the other week and all i did was nothing, i stood while she cried for me to fix things.”

“but you only made it worse.”

“but i only made it worse.”

“hongjoong,” he swallows, eyes getting watery. “what do i do? i don’t deserve her, she won’t come back, s-she’s gone i won’t ever see her hongjoong. what do i do, what have i done— hong-“

hongjoong brings his hands over the taller man’s shoulders. “quiet down.”

“no, no i can’t do that.” he shakes his head, “if she’s not at her parent’s house, then you.” he grips hongjoong’s hands, “you know where she is.”

“please tell me where she is, please.”

he sighs, “seonghwa, only you know where she is.”

“i-i don’t, i really don-“

“what was her favourite place?”

“just te-“

“think seonghwa, think.”

“i can’t, i just want to see her already!”

“where did she want to spend the rest of her life with you?”

seonghwa pauses, “by the sea.” and it finally hits him like a truck. “fuck, she’s at balmoral!”

and immediately a bright grin covers his crying face, “she’s at balmoral, the villa she wanted to raise our kids at!” he brings a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as he feels the final tears drop down.

“what are you waiting for then, go on.”

the excitement in him swirls, wiping his eyes he pulls the shorter man in a hug. “hongjoong you’re the best, thank you, i lov-“

“get out.”

“i’ll drop by with groceries in a few hours, stay inside the weathers not good!”

“yes, yeosang now go!” you pushed the laughing man outside, waving your hand as he walks to the car with a smile.

you skipped on your toes lightly, humming as you make your way inside. hearing the rapid pitter patter of your dog running to you, nuzzling his face in your leg as you walked.

you plop yourself on the couch, placing your arms on the armrest and your doberman comes to lay by your feet. switching on a movie while a scented candle’s scent made it’s way around the room, a calming scent of warm vanilla.

eerily similar to seonghwa’s, you sighed at that. unconsciously your eyes land on your stomach, caressing it lightly.

you find yourself not focusing on the movie but on the man you married, your eyes then shift to the entrance lobby. you’d do this every day, maybe a small hope burning inside you said that the said man would walk in.

bring you in his arms, place a chaste kiss on your lips— but that’s where you’d stop thinking. clenching your jaw at the thought of him, you’re mad at him, furious even.

but you still want to see him, yet you don’t know how you’ll react once you do. your eyes then shift to the portrait of you two, at the happiest you two were at.

big smiles decorating your face, so warm and happy and inviting unlike now.

a tired sigh leaves your mouth, slowly getting up to walk down to the sea but halt once your eyes land on the window. shifting the curtain to the side, fat water droplets hit the glass from the heavy rain.

the blue ocean now darker like the sky, moving slowly but scarily. just as you’re about to turn around, the sound of the doorbell ringing stops you and a smile graces your lips.

“yeosang, i’m in the living area!” you yell, quickly tidying up the couch. “come on inside!”

you dog immediately gets on his feet, scurrying away to bark at the door. but he won’t, he knows it’s yeosang.

“yeosang! come in!” you say again, this time with furrowed eyebrows and a hesitant walk to the door.

the doorbell rings once again, “you have the keys yeo,” you mutter lowly, unlocking the door and just as you open the door, the ground from underneath you feels as if it’s slipping.

“y/n.”

you take a step back, hands falling to your side and your eyes fall upon the man you hadn’t seen in weeks.

you’re just staring at him; he takes a step towards you, and you back up. a feeling of panic swirls in your chest, not because you didn’t want to see him but because you didn’t think it would be so soon.

“y-your highness.”

there’s no reaction on your face, but his eyes are wide and glossy as if he just had cried, or from the rain pouring down his face. his lips twitch at the corners but falter down.

“i’m sorry.”

you feel as if your heart is about to burst out because of how fast it’s beating, a warm lump forming your throat that’s so hard to swallow down. his dark hair shadow over his eyes, shinning under the night light just outside.

he’s standing in a black shirt that’s now clung onto him, and you know it’s a very wrong time, but you can’t help but stare at him up and down.

“why are you here?” your voice comes out on tone that’s barely above a whisper, fingers gripping your dress.

“y/n please, just give me chance,” he pleads, and you hear the desperation in his voice.

you step backwards when he tries to hold onto your hand, back enough that he’s standing inside now. the water from outside following inside, and your eyes stare into his.

“please, please y/n i’m so sorry.”

“you need to go away, you’re not supposed to be here.” you manage to say out loud but it doesn’t affect him the slightest.

“y/n,” his low voice rings the hall, “i’m terrible, i know. but please don’t let go, i’m an idiot that didn’t hear you or fix things when you were there.”

“i ignored you when you were in pain and i only made it worse, i made it so easy for you to hate me y/n.”

“the weathers not great, go back please.”

he shakes his head, finally taking a stride towards you and you stay still. his tall self hovers over you and you shut your eyes, inhaling his scent that you thought you’d never smell again.

“please y/n,” he clasps onto your hand, his cold fingers holding into your warmer hand.

“please what?” you say, “y-you’ve done nothing but hurt me, when i went to the war for you, all for you.”

“i didn’t want you to die...i never did,” you look away, “i knew you’d be mad but not the point where you didn’t even look at me.”

“did you know how much it hurt?” lowering your eyes as if it would hide the tears pooling in. “you said you’d be by my side, that we would raise our kids together.”

you let out a humourless laugh, “but it’s as if that never existed,” you finally look at him, who’s staring at you intently and you swallow.

“did you even want to be-“

“i wanted to be there for all of it,” he cuts you, eyes flickering with a dark glint that displayed pain. “i wanted to be there for it all y/n, but i was selfish.”

you don’t realize that your lips are trembling, holding onto your emotions from pouring out. yes, you two had an argument but that doesn’t stop how you feel about him—

“i love you.”

“stop it.” you barely manage to whisper out, that three worded sentence making your insides swoop, shuddering as the cold wind made its way inside.

he shakes his head and you see the tears roll down his cheeks, “i’m sorry y/n, i don’t deserve you, i will never des-“

“please just shut up.”

“i put you and our child in dang-“

“why do you say you put me and our baby in danger?” he says between his sobs, “when you were the one in danger? hm? does your life not matter? your life is the most precious thing to me, are you insane? why do you hurt yourself like this?”

he then kneels on his knees and your eyes widen, only for the water collected in your eyes to fall. you’re standing and he kneels by your feet, head thrown down as both your emotions match.

he keeps shaking his head, lips letting choked sobs as his shoulders shake. “y/n, please, i’m so sorry, i- please just come back, please.” he begs between sniffles.

you shake your head slowly, biting down on your lips. “n-no, not right now.”

he holds onto your hand and brings it to his lips, you try to jerk it back but he lifts his head up. his red and swollen and puffy, nose red and lips parted.

he manages to smile a little, he glances at the band resting on your fingers. you bring your hand back, “you need to leave, just go away.”

“i’m an idiot, please don’t stay away from me-“ he pauses midway, eyeing your tear filled eyes and then on the small bump of your stomach.

and it only breaks him down more, a shaky hand coming to cup his mouth. eyes flickering from yours to the little bump you have, salty tears prickle down his eyes.

“i-is that...” he hiccups, “ours?”

you swallow hard and it only makes everything worse because you yourself choke out a sob. he watches through wonder and tears, knowing that inside was what you and he created.

he wipes the tears by back his hand, timidly bringing a hand to your stomach but before it does, you take a step back.

“y/n, please.”

“your highness, it’s raining out heavily, please go back to eden before the storm worsens.” lifting your head to look out the door, seeing a car in the car distance, presumably the one he used to come here.

“no,” he pauses, “not without you, and not without our little one.”

“you should’ve thought about that months ago, your highness.” you turn around, and he watches you walk away from him with desperate eyes.

“stop talking like that to me,” he says between sniffles, “since when did you go back to be-“

“a general?” you turn your head to the side, “the second you told me to call you ‘your highness’.”

“leave,” you say, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t look at him. “when our child’s born, i’ll handwrite you a letter to let you know.”

“now please,” you pause, “leave your highness.”

“y/n please, just p-“

“leave.” you say out tiredly, holding onto the couch to support your weight. “go away, seonghwa.”

his eyes widen at your words, using his name brought a certain amount of weight onto him, closing his eyes for a brief second, he stands up, wobbly.

“y/-“

you turn around so fast that in seconds you’re pushing him out the door, ignoring his begging, pleadings, and desperate calls for your name.

you slam the door shut, closing your eyes, and lulling your back. you hear him scream and wail your name repeatedly, but you clench your jaw, closed your eyes and pressed your back against the door.

the two men outside, yunho and mingi watch their duke kneel on his knees. one hand on the door as he calls out your name, they wipe their own tears before walking to seonghwa, holding onto two black umbrellas.

building a shield over the man, the two exchange a look. yunho decides to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder.

“just give her some time seonghwa,” mingi says, flinching at the sudden thunderstorm.

yunho shakes his head, “i’m sorry, but you had a chance, you let it go too quick.”

both the boys pull seonghwa away from the doorstep, his head hung low as hot tears streamed down his face. he doesn’t bother fighting them and lets them drag him back to the car.

sparing your window one last glance, hoping that you would be standing there. watching him leave, but you didn’t. you couldn’t look at him in the eye.

you sat down on your desk, the one in the small office. where a large window pooled in sunlight, the desk you say at now covered with coloured papers and stickers and pictures.

a scrapbook, what yeosang said would be a good thing to pass time instead of sparring swords alone or walking your dog down the small town.

the book was rather small, but it did the job. you’ve been writing your experiences with the baby in it, from when you were too sick or intense cravings at five in the morning or when there was excessive back pain.

you were now a little over four months, you had jotted all the entry’s down, pairing it up with stickers and felt pen designs. you’d always end the entry with the date and time, so that maybe in future you could look back at it.

but when you would swivel your chair around, your eyes would land upon the new set of roses sitting on the far desk. everyday you’d get something by your door or by the hands of yeosang.

“here you go,” he’d chuck it at you when walking by, and you knew it was seonghwa sending all these.

so, you would send them back politely through yeosang’s hands, who would glare at you for making him run back and forth.

“oh my god y/n, this is the third time you’ve asked me to send these back to your lover boy!”

“and you will!” you grin, “thank you!”

he sighs and grabs the roses from you, “i’m not going to be stalling this for long, one day i might just do something that you wouldn’t have excepted.”

“sure, sure.”

maybe you should’ve listened to him, because the scrapbook you made documenting your pregnancy had been sent off into the hands of seonghwa.

“you what!” you said, wide eyed.

yeosang shrugged, “i told you, you two need to sort it out.”

you’d throw a finger in the air for him, and he’d laugh mockingly, before one day the doorbell had rang and a person stood on the other side, holding a giant bouquet yellow flowers in front of their face.

“excuse me?”

and then the flowers were shoved down a little revealing, “you?”

seonghwa, of course, standing there with a big grin on his face.

“hi,” he says and then walk past you inside, “the house is still in good condition, how was everything?”

“why are you here?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

he grins, takes a small step, and crosses his arms over his chest. “well, my wife lives here and she’s pregnant and i’m here to take care of her.”

you let out a scoff, “oh yeah? i think you’ve got the wrong house.”

“oh, i’m sure i’ve got the right one.” he smiles, coming closer to you and then snaking a hand around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

“y/n,” his low voice mumbles, “i’ll be staying here with you, whether you like it or not.”

you crane your neck up to meet his eyes, and when you did, he smiles brightly and then pecks your nose quickly and then he’s off of you.

turning around, placing his hands on his waist, and nodding at every room. while you stood in the middle with wide eyes, and a cozy feeling in your stomach.

seonghwa watches you brush past him, and he smiles. looking around before settling his eyes on the large portrait, his eyes turn into crescents when he stares at it.

thanking yeosang for mailing him the scrapbook, he remembers it being chucked at his face and before he could get the chance to yell, the blond man had already walked out.

he hesitantly flipped through the entire book, eyes widening when he realizes that is your handwriting and you’re documenting the pregnancy. he finds it hard not to tear up, making sure to read everything written on. and from that’s where he would send you flowers every day, as it said that you liked smelling them this time around. or sending prepped meals, baby clothes, clothes for you and more.

he’s decided that you may not forgive him easily, he’ll still be by your side, to fill in the hole he left when he wasn’t there.

so he makes sure to wake up before you every day, cooking your breakfast, lunch and dinner. doing the cleaning, laundry and looking over you from afar when you would go out a walk.

the only thing missing was, well, your voice.

because you didn’t say a single word to him for the days, he’s been doing this, nonchalantly walking past him or pretending he isn’t even in the villa.

you’d quietly eat the food being made for you, although not saying anything verbally, he already knows what you would say.

sometimes he’d get lucky hearing you talk, precisely when he had started to sleep on the couch because he wanted to give you your outmost privacy.

“your highness,” he grins ear to ear, “this isn’t necessary, go back to your duties in eden.”

“my duty is you, y/n.” he says with a slight tilt of his head, catching the slight widening of your eyes.

“it is-“

“no, never, don’t say a word.” he comes to stand right in front of you, “i’m never leaving you out of my sight again, i’ll stay here with you not caring if you hate me or not.”

your stomach would flip at the words and sometimes you think it’s the baby reacting to their fathers’ words.

“your-“

“seonghwa,” he interrupts, “but hwa could work too.” he shrugs his shoulders with a pout.

with a wink he would walk past you, doing something in the house and you’d groan before locking yourself in your bedroom once again.

but recently you’ve been leaving your door slightly ajar, or well seonghwa had told you too, forcibly. knowing that if you would be in some type of pain, he wouldn’t have to break the door down and would rather just barge in.

you silently agreed because the night prior you had a slight pain shooting from your stomach, not that serious, but bad enough for you to slip out a few low groans.

so, you didn’t expect to be up at four in the morning, turning on the bed constantly before sitting up tight and immediately feeling an immense amount of pain shoot through you.

you figured it was the surprise movement or the contractions, or whatever because you really couldn’t think right now. your brain screamed at you to get up, but all you could do was groan loudly.

you shift in an effort to make it better, but it only makes it worse, and it’s as if your grunts were so loud you heard rapid footsteps running down the hallway.

“y/n!”

you bite down on your lips, clutching the sheets as the pain doubled. squeezing your eyes shut on impulse but they shoot open just as the door breaks open.

there stood a heavily breathing seonghwa, eyes widened, and mouth parted. he yelled your name once again, this time coming by you.

he cringes at your pain and panics, eyes frantically searching your face before he helps you sit up.

“it’s o-okay,” his shaky hands brush your hair away, “stay still i’ll be right back!”

“the medicine is top left drawer!” you manage to yell, falling back on the bed while one hand rested on your forehead.

“hurry up!” you yell, grunting and groaning until seonghwa zooms in right beside you.

he slowly helps you sit up, holding your hand tightly as he kept mumbling sweet nothings. he hands you the medicine and you gulp it down, he holds onto you firmly, brushing away the strands of hair.

you hold onto his shoulders, trying not to let out a scream of pain. he welcomes the tight grip you have on him and places a hand behind your head, lowering it to his shoulder.

his other hand softly rubs your back as you squeeze your eyes shut, “i-it hurts,”

he hums, swallowing and then tucking your face in his neck. “you’re alright baby, you’re okay, you’re with me.” he mumbles against your ear and you tighten your hold onto him.

“get away from me,” you grit out, “go get yeosang.”

he immediately nods, not wanting to leave pull away from the embrace. “o-of course, i’m sorry. do you need anything else? anything at all?”

you shake your head, “get the doctor, get yeosang and get away from me.”

“but you’re hurting,” his quips, voice full of uncertainty. “i’m not going to leave y/n.”

“j-just go.” you push his chest away, curling your fingers around your dress instead.

he nods shakily, “alright, i’ll go get yeosang, if you need any-“

“just go!”

your loud yell makes him flinch and sighs softly, letting go of your body knowing he’s the one to blame of this situation. he stands up, looks over at you in worry before walking out the door.

“alright y/n, i’ll go get him.”

you fall back immediately, wanting for it all to stop. curling up in a fetal position you hold onto the pillow until yeosang comes, seonghwa watches you from the door.

one hand holding the phone to his ear while his eyes flickered glints of pain, he hears every instruction the man says. biting down on his lips, he watches your expression morph into relief, and he thinks the pains over.

he watches you fall asleep, walking in quietly and then lifting the blanket up till your shoulders. bunching up your hair, out of your face.

his knuckles brush lightly against your cheek, and he shudders, “i’m sorry,” he whispers “please forgive me.” and then lowers his face, pecking your cheek for a brief second and then places a pillow by your back.

he finds himself sitting outside your room, the door to your room slightly open. he thinks in case of another situation like this, he’ll be able to get inside quicker to rush to your aid.

he backs himself to the wall right by the door, straightening his legs and then closing his eyes until morning hits.

when you wake up the next day, your eyes hastily glance at the clock. cursing lowly at how late you’ve woken up, groaning and then getting up to freshen yourself up.

when you walk out, you pause when your eyes fall upon seonghwa sitting on the floor, sleeping.

you clear your throat, “your highness, hey.” you tap your feet on the wood twice. when he doesn’t move, you bite the insides of your cheek and then glance left and right.

slowly lowering yourself to his eye-level, your eyes fall over his face. cheeks swished against his shoulder, hair over his eyes and his lips all pink and pouty.

you find yourself smiling, lifting your hand out and brushing his hair to the side. doing so only made butterflies erupt inside you, caressing his forehead lightly you feel tears trickle in your eyes.

“why do you do this hwa?” you whisper to yourself, “you’re a big idiot you know, i hope our kid doesn’t go on you.”

you poke his cheek, “you made me cry a lot you know?” and then poke his pillowy lips.

“i should hate you,” you whisper, “i do, don’t get me wrong.”

you sniffle a little and then dare to bring your face close to his, quickly wanting to place a peck on his forehead and then leave and then pretend a different nothing had happened.

when you inch closer, his eyes shoot open and he grabs you by the waist, making you fall onto his lap.

your eyes widen, “h-hey! seo- your highness, this is inappropriate!”

he grips your waist, “and what you did wasn’t?” you stare into his eyes and then look away.

“this is how we’re supposed to be y/n,” he says softly, “i love you, i still love you with every fiber in body. i’ll have it engraved to my tombstone, so even death can’t do us apart.”

he inches closer, lips grazing your neck. “so, miss general, please let me back in.”

you stay quiet, looking off into the hallway before shoving his hands away. “go sit at the table, i’ll make the breakfast this time.”

and that’s when he smiles big, squealing and then tucking his face in your neck. giving you a tight hug before letting you go; you hear his excited giggles while you walk away with a small smile.

“whose shirt is that?” the minute you walk out the shower seonghwa questions you.

sitting on the couch, a book in hand and legs crossed. he watches you walk out, in a white shirt, wet hair and his black ring that brought a smile on his lips.

“where’s yeosang?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water and bringing it up to your lips.

“that’s his shirt?!” he yells, eyes widening he stands up.

you throw him a glance, “i said where’s yeosang?”

“who’s fucking shirt is that?” he smirks, coming up behind you till he’s front is pressed against your back.

“it’s mine, what’s your deal.” you hear him let out a low hum, snaking a hand around your waist. his eyes fall on the collar, and he ticks ups an eyebrow.

and then smiled shyly, resting his chin on your shoulder he brings both his arms around you, intertwining his hands at your front.

“you could’ve told me if you wanted more of my shirts,” he mumbles, “this ones kind of boring hm?”

you grip the glass tightly at that, flickering your eyes from the table to the ground. and then you feel him press against your back, making you shiver.

he kisses your neck and softly taps your stomach, “i’ll be home later, okay?” you inhale sharply the minute you feel his warmth leave and then groan.

when he comes back, the house is quiet. grinning to himself he walks to change in his night clothes, and then jumps onto the couch.

he lets out a sigh of relief, knowing he clocked the doors and you’re fast asleep, and the progress between your relationship is working to a good end.

he brings his hands behind his head and leans back, leaning into the couch as he shut his eyes.

and it’s as if ten minutes later, his eyes shoot open when he hears a call for his name. he shakes his head and looks around, when he doesn’t hear anything, he pulls the blanket above his head.

but then just two minutes later, he hears a louder cry for his name. this time he yanks the blanket down, panic swirling in his chest once he hears a louder groan.

he stands up, glancing at the clock, frowning at the later hours of might. he quietly walks himself down the hallway to your room, eyes widening when he hears the voices coming from your room.

he steps closer and brings his ear against the door, eyes widening when he hears your low moans for his name. his hand rests in the doorknob and just as he’s about to twist it, he pauses when he hears a breathy call of his name.

his eyebrows furrow, “y/n?” he calls out in worry.

you pause, biting your lip when you hear his voice. you glance down at your fingers against your folds and then to the door, “d-don’t come in!”

you lean yourself against the bed frame, inching your fingers closer to your wet folds and then slowly starting to move them.

“why? what’s going on?”

you hear him say just as you fasten the speed, biting down on your lip so that a mewl won’t escape.

“seonghwa,”

he stops and then he groans, “shit, y/n, baby let me in.”

and you push your fingers in, shuddering as you pumped in and out. your other hand travels to your breast, softly kneading while your fingers worked in and out of you.

he knocks on the door, pressing himself against the door when he hears you moan out his name. swallowing when he hears the pretty voices of yours, he hasn’t heard in a while.

“y/n,” he says lowly, and you cry his name out, he finds himself closing his eyes and letting out shaky breaths.

“seonghwa,” you cry out loudly and the doorknob shakes, parting your lips as you let out a silent scream.

“fuck,” he groans, his own self getting impatient. “baby, open the door for me.”

you shake your head as if he could see you, feeling the wetness starting to pool out of you. your chest heaving up and down while your mouth keys out pretty voices that has his cock twitching in his pants.

“baby, louder,” he says, “i can’t hear you.”

and as if on demand, you whine out loudly. he curls his fists, trying to control himself to not barge in until you say so.

“y/n, let me in please.” he begs, biting his lips, hard enough to perhaps draw blood.

“d-don’t.” you let out shakily, shutting your eyes as the heat started to coil up in your stomach.

“but i can make you feel so good,” he says breathily, “i know that body like my own cock.”

you mewl at his words, “just go away!” you squirm, “or stay put.”

abs he chooses the second option, looking down at the tent forming in his pants before looking at the door.

he finds himself getting needy, palming his own cock slowly. closing his eyes and leaning back on the door, mouth parting when he hears your voices.

he tries to imagine you but whines when he can’t, “y/n,” he says once again, shutting his eyes as he feels his cock twitch.

and then there’s silence from the other side, he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it and to his surprise the door opens wide.

he turns around and inhales sharply when he sees you sitting on the bed, your fingers inside your pussy and moans.

he walks inside when you stare at him, your legs shut close when he stands by the end of your bed. his eyes showing a dark glint and teeth gnawing on his bottom lip, he then gets a hold onto your ankles and pulls you to the end.

you let out a surprise yelp when he spreads your legs wide, he shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “please let me fuck you properly baby,” he grits out and you whimper, “let me make you feel good.”

he kneels down and placed his larger hands on your thighs, “y/n, look here.” you look away as the heat rushes to your cheeks, you close your legs, but he holds onto them and spreads them wider.

“no baby, let me see this, it’s all for me.” he then trails a finger down your clit and you shiver, he then lowers himself close to your already wet and needy center.

“tell me to stop right now and i will,” he looks straight at you, fiddling with your dress as bunches it up.

“can i?” his hot breath fans against your inner thighs and you close your eyes, “c-“

“yes, just hurry up!” you say out loudly and he smirks, holding onto your waist he dips his head between your legs and you cry out at the sensitively from your previous high.

you lay back on the bed, elbows holding you up as he dives his tongue inside of you. lapping at different speeds and eating you out as if the man has been starved for days.

“shit,” you whine, “h-hwa.”

“so pretty,” he says in between, diving his tongue in making you let out a moan for his name that has his cock twitch, and he moves in and out of you skillfully.

alternating from long slow licks to small circles with his fingers to his tongue lapping sinfully against your clit until he's had his fingers easily sliding in and out of you.

you close your legs, and he growls lowly, using his hands to part them as he finds a particular interest in sucking on the nerves that have you rolling your eyes back.

“c-close,” you whine out and he delivers a particular harsh suck that has you screaming his name and coming off your high.

he places hot trails of kisses by your inner thighs and then looks up at you, your head thrown back, chest heaving up and down heavily and the sweat lined against you.

he then stands up to hover of you, your eyes shut tight, and he smiles. “y/n,” he places his lips onto yours, you respond back after a few seconds and he smiles, finally feeling them on his.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, “i’m sorry,” he mumbles against your lips and you pull back to rest your head back.

“i’m sorry too,” you mutter, he tucks his face in your neck, wrapping his arm around yours.

“i’m the one at fault,” he says, “you don’t need to apologize.”

you hum, running your hand through his hair. “will you let me back in?” you hear his quiet voice by your ear.

“seonghwa, i’m horny right now,” he chuckles, “you saying that sentence is making me think dirty thoughts.”

“do you want me go in?” he asks, purely out of playfulness.

“hm, do it right now.” you mumble lazily and he shoots his head up.

“are you serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised at your words.

you nod, “i heard pregnancy sex is the best, i want to try it.”

he laughs at your straightforward manner and shakes his head, “baby i don’t want to hurt you,” he moves his hand to your stomach. “or our little one inside.”

“just do it,” you open your eyes to meet his shiny ones, “i won’t let you do later on.”

he puckers his lips, “but won’t it hu-“

“no, it won’t, trust me.” you say, “hurry up!”

he shakes his head, “not right now baby, let’s do it next time.”

you laugh, “next time?” you shake your head, “no next time hwa.”

“just one? what about the five kids we wanted?” you smack his shoulder and then cup his cheeks.

“park seonghwa, the next time you do shit like this i’ll break you.”

he grins, swooping you up in his arms. you yelp but wrap your arms around his neck anyways. he has a grin on his lips that you haven’t seen in a while and it makes you feel as if everything’s settled, he glances at you from time to time and you see the same love you used too.

when you two lay on your bed side by side, he seems to have a permanent pout on his face as he sulks in your neck. you smile and lift your hands to run through his hair, he wraps his arm around your waist and nuzzles into you.

he places a soft peck on your neck before getting comfortable, bringing the blankets up and nuzzling into you. his hand rests on your stomach, caressing it lightly before falling asleep beside you. this was the best sleep you two had gotten, in a while.

and the next morning it’s as if his demeanor changed, he woke up before you but stayed in bed to admire your face. his lips met your forehead, nose, and then your lips as he looked at the glow shinning on your face.

he helps you with your sickness, doing chores that would usually be easier for you, bringing you all the strawberries and meals he had.

and you returned it with having him to run across town to bring you that one thing you ate months ago or shoving him inside the shower fully clothed because you thought he smelled weird, three times.

or him borrowing that book of names from your dad, that he reads every day before sleeping, suggesting you to name the child a name he heard in a movie.

or when he visits the town to bring home little clothes, shoes, hats and socks for your unborn child. he comes in giggling while holding bags full of stuff he bought, he then compares the sizes between his ginormous clothes to the baby ones.

he caresses your stomach one in a while, mumbling how, “good you look filled up with me.” and you smack his arm away.

how when you bump had finally grown more, you screamed his name and lifted your shirt. he came in running, a spoon in his mouth and the plate of pasta he held now chucked to the side.

he pokes at your stomach and feels the bump, kneeling in front of you. when he kisses your stomach, it usually ends up with him crying because he’s way too excited, more excited than you.

and when the guys noticed the bump, they all squealed so loud. especially mingi who seemed to be the most excited out of all, also who seonghwa had to shoo away.

the guys walk in at any given time of the day, sometimes when seonghwa has to tend to his duties, one of the guys would come and keep you company. cracking jokes or guessing the gender or the name you had thought off.

it’s as if time slipped, and your belly was even more swollen. yeosang who comes for your daily checkup, jumps on his feet whenever he feels the baby kick through his stethoscope.

“you’ll be due soon,” he’d say, and it only made you more nervous, because you had heard about the pain one experiences, or how some don’t make it through, or if you would be a good m-

“what’s your pretty little head thinking?” you break off from your trance to look at seonghwa, who laid beside you on the bed.

your hand reaches up to your belly, “nothing, just wondering who the kid will go on.”

he smirks at that, “on me of course, they’ll take my good looks and my brains.”

you snarl at the man and bring the sheets up to your chin, getting comfortable and closing your eyes.

but it’s as if god has different plans, at exactly 3:44 your eyes shoot open. your hand goes to your stomach and then you feel it, your water’s broken.

you look at seonghwa who’s sleeping with a content smile and poke his face, “hwa, hwa get up.”

he stirs in his sleep and lazily opens his eyes and hums, “hmm whaat is it, do you want mo stawbehies?”

“no,” you lean down, “my water broke.”

he squishes his cheek against the pillow and mumbles out a soft, “what?”

you roll your eyes, “the baby’s coming!” you yell, “right now!”

and it takes him no time to jump off his bed, he first looks at you wide eyed and mouth hung open. his hands are up by his head as if someone has arrested him and then he screams, loudly.

you’re sure all the lights of the villa are turning on, seonghwa picks you up from the bed and runs down the room you two had prepared beforehand, he lays you down on the bed and when he sees your face contorting into pain he screams, yet again.

“get the midwife!” he yells at himself, running in his doodle filled pyjamas down to grab the midwife.

at this point, everyone’s awake. the maids who are patiently waiting outside in the hallway, both yours and seonghwa’s parents standing by each other guessing who the baby will go on.

the guys who are half awake standing in their matching pyjamas that you bought for them in a group set, betting money on if it’s the gender they guessed on.

seonghwa’s inside the room, walking back and forth as if he’s the one who’s pregnant. the midwife and her workers help fix the room while telling you breathing exercises, you listen to them as you laid comfortably.

“stop running around,” you tell him, your feelings totally contrasting. he’s panicking and you’re sitting all relaxed.

“your highness,” the midwife bows, “you should wait outside.”

“oh no, no, no!” he immediately disagrees, “i’m staying here, by her side.”

“but yo-“

“no questions asked,” he says and you stare at him wide eyed, you’re about to call out for his name but then you feel the pain kicking in.

“seonghwa!” you yell and he’s immediately kneeling by you, running a hand through your hair as the pain worsened.

“it’s happening,” the midwife says, “hold on tight miss general, you’re in for a ride.”

and you scream immediately.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re doing amazing!”

“park seonghwa, shut up!”

“no no, i read this in the books, if i keep talking to you-“ he’s cut off by him screaming as you grip his hand hard.

“i’m never going to let you do this again!” you yell, breathing heavily as a layer of sweat washes over you.

“you’re doing great, breathe, our child’s almost here.” he watches you groan and yell and push and cry and his respect for you grows every second.

he kneels to your face, wiping away the sweat and tears by a towel. “you know, this isn’t the right time, but you look really hot right now.”

you push his face away and yell, the midwife cries out in happiness as she tells seonghwa to do whatever he did once again.

he nods immediately, holding your hand in his. “are you ready for kid number one?”

your eyes grow wide and the midwife screams, “park seonghwa, this is the one and only-“

“one more time! your highness, one more!”

“i know we just had my birthday, but we should have that night aga-“

“no!” you scream, gripping the sheets tightly and shutting your eyes.

he caresses your forehead while holding your hand, “i bet it’s a prin-“

“it’s a princess!” and you hear the crying of a child.

your body falls in a pool of relief, and your eyes cry out a river. your mouths hung open as you breathe in and out, trying to catch your breath.

the midwife comes with a big smile, carrying a small body frame in her arms, with a smile she places the body on your rising chest. your trembling hands hold onto, your daughter, your newborn daughter.

your eyes immediately move to seonghwa’s and find him hiding his face in his arms, you ask him to lift his head up and once he does his eyes water more. you nod and take his hand to bring it over your daughter, his face quickly breaks out into a big smile.

he inches closer and the midwifes move to the bathroom the room for privacy, his eyes fall out fat droplets of tears as he looks at you and then to the small face tucked into a cloth.

his wide eyes turn onto crescents when he notices the baby, her cute chubby cheeks, her little lips and her small little hands.

“s-she,” he sobs, “our daughter.”

you nod and ask him to hold her, he says no at first, telling you that his hands are too big or what if he drops her. you take his hands and then gently hand him your little princess.

“our princess,” he says, eyes flickering to you and to the baby he coddles.

“our daughter, princess of eden, park hwayoung.”

eight months later.

you and seonghwa huddle up together, opening the door to your daughter’s room slowly in hopes that the noise won’t disturb her sleep.

but when you do open the window, she’s standing with her arms leaning over the crib wall. opening her little mouth yawning, stretching her arms over her head dramatically before falling down on her bed.

seonghwa coos beside you and you hurry inside, “hwayoung-ah!” you say, and her eyes fly to yours, widening and sparkling.

damn it, just like her dad.

she lifts her hands up for you to pick her up, once you do, your brush her short hair back and she giggles before pointing at seonghwa who stood behind you, with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“hi princess,” he says and she reaches for his cheeks, planting her small hands on his skin.

“ha!” she says and you laugh, making seonghwa frown.

“it’s da-da hwayoung, not ha!” he whines in your ear, and she does nothing but call him ‘ha’ again.

you smile sheepishly because you know it’s your deeds, you call seonghwa ‘hwa’ so much that your daughter had picked it up too.

but since she’s little and wobbles over her words, she calls him “ha!” instead of “hwa,” which everyone finds too adorable.

she smiles when she sees seonghwa pout, her little giggles filling the room and you realize how grown she had gotten so quick.

you still remember the very first month, both you and seonghwa didn’t leave hwayoung alone for even a second. building a makeshift bed for her in between you two, she’d sleep half her day away.

her hands curled up onto little fists, sleeping like a starfish, her frame wrapped in a yellow duckie blanket gifted to her by mingi.

the second month was when you two really experienced the chaotic energy she had, waking up at the most spontaneous hours of the night, crying and screaming and then laughing and playing the other second.

the third month was when you and seonghwa would have a breakdown, you remember how when you asked seonghwa to change her diaper and he stared at you with horror.

he would use the tip of his fingers to remove the diaper and then with your help change it for her, while she either slept away or moved way too much.

seonghwa still finds it horrifying when he remembers his own stories with hwayoung.

but as months passed by, at five months was when you two heard her say her very first word.

“mama,”

and you cried out of joy, shoving your face into seonghwa’s, celebrating your win over the small contest you two had over who’s name would she say first.

the next shocker you had was when you were in her room, cleaning her toys up and you looked back and saw her standing up on her feet.

you immediately called seonghwa over and he comes in with a camera with him, filming the very first steps of his daughter.

when it hit eight months, you two had kind of gotten the hang off your daughter. and it was the best feeling to see her every day, screaming or laughing or looking at you with those eyes of her dad’s.

whenever you would scold her, she would widen her eyes and stare into your soul.

needless to say, she’s a carbon copy of seonghwa’s personality and a mixture of both your face.

aside from the eyes, she had the cutest cheeks you had ever seen, pouty lips and a contagious smile that brightened the room wherever she went.

seonghwa had also gone out of his way to get hwayoung anything her eyes laid on, which included dresses with strawberries on them.

one thing your daughter absolutely loved was strawberries, no wonder you had craved them so much during her.

she’s just like her dad and seonghwa makes sure to boast it in your face every day, or whenever hwayoung would waddle her way to him when he would come from work.

but she was your daughter, in the end of the day she runs to you with her arms frantically moving up and down and then finally falling asleep in your embrace.

and when she would sleep on seonghwa’s chest because she found it more comfortable, you’d snap a quick picture while seonghwa smiled, caressing her cheek.

when she finally hit the two-year mark, both you and hwayoung had a portrait taken. where she sat on your lap, a big smile on her face, short hair pulled into two pigtails and a pink dress.

that was your new favourite picture.

ah, and well as for your duty as a general. you decided to retire, wanting to be by hwayoung’s side all the time. you were now an ex-general, still taking the time in between to train a few newbies.

jongho had become the new head of the army and he made sure to boast it in your face and you’d laugh and say, “i trained you!”

you and seonghwa would carry your daughter everywhere, seonghwa would make her sit on his shoulders while her tiny hands played with his hair, and you’d prop her on your waist while she played with the chain around your neck.

in the end of the day, you and seonghwa would huddle together in the bed tiredly because your daughter had way too much energy.

“let’s not have another kid, she’s enough.”

that was funny because you screamed that same sentence on your second. yelling at seonghwa who only held your hand and helped you through the birth while saying ridiculous things that riled you up.

and this time, it was a boy.

seonghwa had chosen the name this time, hwan.

you remember the little guy screaming in the middle of the might that made you and seonghwa run to the room, most of the time it was hwayoung bothering him and others he was crying for no reason.

he had developed more of your personality but looked exactly like seonghwa, jongho would laugh and call it a “double homicide.”

hwan would spend time with hongjoong often, fascinated by the fact how his uncle played the piano.

who would excitedly teach him how to play and hwan would watch with his cat-like eyes, sitting beside hongjoong while his fingers played the keys.

hwayoung would make the rest of the guys dress up in pink tutu’s and invite them to her tea party, handwriting a sign with swirls and rainbows.

and they’d join happily, calling her their “little princess” who’s order they will forever follow.

others would find it surprising that how the big and bad princes and kings and generals (the guys) would be wrapped around the fingers of your kids.

you and seonghwa, worked even close than before. alternating responsibilities from your kids and then to the royal duties, but you made sure you would always spend time with the kids.

which meant taking them to the balmoral villa by the sea, or them jumping onto you and seonghwa first thing in the morning and then cuddle before falling asleep again.

you would discipline the kids while seonghwa spoiled them.

and then when the day had finally come, seonghwa’s parents had stepped down from the throne of eden.

hand in hand you two stood by each other, dressed in the coronation clothes with crowns over your head.

your kids stood in front of you two, playing with their clothes while pointing everywhere. the photographer snapped multiple photos and they would get broadcasted everywhere just like how the coronation.

you and seonghwa walked out the throne room, hearing the public chant your names and hold the flags of eden. waving their hands to yours, and you two glanced at each other and then laughed.

because in the end you two were together, with a small family of your own. your friends and parents supporting you and a new public who looked after you.

hwan and hwayoung ran to you two, yelling for you while holding their arms wide open. you picked hwan up and seonghwa picked hwayoung in his arms.

asking her to wave at the ones standing there for them, hwan would shy away and bury his face in your neck.

you glanced at seonghwa, and he winks, puckering his lips playfully and you shook your head, looking ahead.

this was it, seonghwa became the new king of eden and you, the queen consort of eden.

and you lived happily ever after.

the end.

previous part.

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