#I gave up on it 3 separate times and I should have left it the first time

[roemantics]

sorry I was late to your birthday viktor

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[s6ngbird]

little doll — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆

♡‧₊ warnings — coryo being possessive, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), rough sex, lmk if i forget anything!

♡‧₊ pairing — coriolanus snow x fem!reader

♡‧₊ a/n — wrote this for @etfrin bc me and her were obsessing over coryo (like always <3)

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

to coryo, you were an innocent little doll that he loved to play with and if anyone else tried to even lay a finger on you, he would make sure they were done for

you always took coryo to your house after school to help you with your homework or to study 

coryo let you take him, you were so stupid that he knew if he didn't help you in any way he could, you would fail and have to drop out the academy and he didn't want to lose his pretty little doll

being dumb was the exact reason you never realized coryo had an unspoken claim on you, always keeping a hand on you and staring down everyone who tried to make conversation with you

this led to people starting to stop talking to you and you still didn't understand why it happened, but everyone else pitied you for being so dumb

you had asked coryo about it and he just brushed it off, giving you a kiss after which left you shocked since you never knew coryo had a romantic interest in you

but whether you liked it or not, one thing led to another and you ended up in your bed, naked with coryo under you as your eyelids became heavy and coryo stroked your hair, shushing you everytime you were about to say something

you got used to this, having sex everytime after you two finished studying. if you were good and could answer all the questions correctly, he would fuck you nicely, being gentle and praising you, but if you didn't want to study and were giving him a hard time or weren't answering any of the question right, he would fuck you hard, not letting you come or he would fuck your throat, not giving you any pleasure and leaving your house right after that

on this particular night, you had understood the concept, so coryo was gentle with you and let you come and stopped once you started feeling overstimulated

“coryo?” you ask after a while 

“yeah doll?” he said, his eyes opening and continuing to stroke your hair

“why do people not talk to me? they always talk with you…what did i do?” you ask, your eyes looking filling with tears as a few threaten to spill

“oh sweetie shhh” coryo says, holding your head to his chest as you cried

you weren't used to people ignoring you since even though you were dumb, you were very social which made people love you

“it's nothing, they're not real friends…ok doll?” he said shushing you and you eventually find yourself asleep after coryo pulls the covers of you two and cuddles you, kissing your head from time to time

the next day, after you coryo go your separate ways, you go to clemensia to see why everyone was avoiding you

she gave you a hug, which confused you but you were grateful for

“it's because of coryo…he's threatened people if they get too close to you, he's really possessive over you, you know?” she replies after you two start walking to lunch together

this left you stunned, you would've never guessed that coryo had been pushing people away from you, but just as you were about to respond, coryo came out of nowhere and kissed you, putting an arm around you as he looked at you happily

“hi doll, hey clemmie” he said, giving clemensia a cold stare but that was all gone the minute you looked up

clemensia gave you a knowing look, saying goodbye to you and coryo as she left

“what was that about?” coryo said looking down at you

“nothing…let's go get lunch” you said not wanting to tell coryo what you found out but he could see it in your eyes

“hmmm i think we should go grab lunch and then go to an empty classroom and study…you have that test tomorrow anyway” coryo said grabbing his lunch, as you grabbed yours

“do we have to?” you asked, coryo knew how much you hated studying

“yes doll, you're never going to learn if you don't continue studying” he said, leading you to an empty classroom, letting you go in as he locks the door behind him

you sit down at the desk, starting to eat when coryo grabs you, pushing you on the table

“what the fuck did she tell you?” he hisses, his face close to your ear as he starts moving his hand up your skirt

“nothing coryo! why the fuck do you care?” you spat, trying to move

coryo didn't like that, you were being disobedient and one thing about coryo is that he only tolerates obedience and anything else gives him a reason to punish you

“why the fuck do i care? it's because your mine doll, no one is allowed to have you but me” he says, pulling off your skirt and ripping your panties

he laughs as you try to claw at his arms, your pussy is slick

“so pathetic doll, can't even tell me that you just want to get fucked hm?” he says, grabbing your arms and pinning them together to avoid you hitting him with your hands

you whimper, shaking your head as coryo shoves two finger in, finding your g-spot quite easily and repeatedly slamming his fingers in, leaving you a whimpering moaning mess

as he adds a third finger, which makes you moan loudly, he starts kissing you, sucking hickeys on your neck and shoulders

after coryo thinks you’re stretched out enough, he takes his fingers out, licking them clean before pulling down his pants, his cock painfully hard now at the thought of being in your warm cunt

without warning, he slams his cock into you, ramming the table into the wall as he fucks you hard, making sure that you got no pleasure from it

you kept whimpering, letting out broken moans and attempting to form coherent sentences but coryo just laughed at your attempts

“what’s wrong doll? too fucked out to even object?” he said, slamming into you with even more force and sucking hickeys all over your breasts 

you kept babbling about how good his cock felt and letting out moans and coryo knew he had fucked you dumb already if you weren’t already stupid

coryo enjoyed this because he just wanted control over someone, which is something he had been deprived of his whole life until you came along

finally you stopped babbling, going quiet and that’s how coryo knew you were going to come, quickly pulling out before you could which left you a mess

you had tears running down your cheeks and you were whining, coryo had other plans though

“doll open your mouth” coryo said, pumping his shaft a few times before cumming on your face, some of it landing in your mouth

you still felt like crying, you had a good build up but coryo pulled out before you got to finally have the knot snap

coryo notices and laughs, getting dressed again while you just lay there, catching your breath

“next time, don’t go asking people to tell you things that i’ve already told you ok?” he says, kissing your forehead and leaving the classroom

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2

( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )

 Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die. 

“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.

“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later. 

“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at? 

“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.

“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before. 

“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.

“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.

“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.” 

“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again. 

“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt. 

“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.

“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore. 

After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me. 

“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though? 

“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again. 

“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.

“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-

“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.

“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.

“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.

“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…

…gone.

The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie. 

Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.

Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back. 

His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room. 

Alastor, what did you do?

Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired. 

“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.

“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in. 

“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once. 

“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.

“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.” 

(Part 3...?)

(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)

(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)

TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 3

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.

Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.

Word Count: 5.6k

chapter 2 Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!

After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.

There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.

Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.

Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?”  I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”

The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”

Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”

I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”

Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”

My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.

A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.

The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.

I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.

Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.

“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.

He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.

I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.

Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.

Cassian’s POV

I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.

“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.

“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”

Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”

I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.

Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”

I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”

Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.

Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”

“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.

Reader’s POV

After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.

I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.

I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.

You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.

Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”

I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.

If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“

“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.

The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”

“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”

Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”

Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.

Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”

Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.

I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”

“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.

Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.

Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”

I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head.  You BOTH do.

I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.

One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”

A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?”  I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home.  Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”

Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.

Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced.  “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”

I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”

 I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”

Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”

“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”

I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.

“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”

He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.

Cassian’s POV

She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.

Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.

I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.

Reader’s POV

The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.

I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.”  I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”

Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.

At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.

“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.” 

He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.

The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.

Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.

I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.

Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.

I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”

She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”

I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.

Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”

Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”

Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.

I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:

Rhys, help. Please help me!

There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.

A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.

Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.”  A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.”  The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.

Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.

I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.

No one will be dying tonight.

There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.

The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.

I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.

The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”

I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”

I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”

“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.

“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.

Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”

Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.

"Who is?" Cassian asked.

"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."

Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”

You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.

With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.

"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.

He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @Tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieoo

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY THREE

in which you never make it past the stairs.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, single use of 'Y/N', upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 5.4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

23:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

“Be honest with me, Eddie. Do you like her?” 

Eddie feels pathetic when all he can do is hum in response to Nancy’s voice over the line, mind moving in slow motion as looks down at you. You’re here, in his apartment and curled up on his couch. You’re here, and you’re his for twenty four hours, if he can just stop fucking it all up. 

He should have known the hum wouldn’t satisfy his best friend.

“No. I want a real answer,” she scolds, and he can imagine her frustrated scowl she wears as he gives her nothing. But he just feels defeated – he’s at a loss for words right now, “Don’t over think it – do you really like her?”

No. No, I do not just like her. I fucking love her. And I really shouldn’t, but I do, and I can’t change that. 

“I… I think I do.” 

“I just said to not think about it. It’s a yes or no question, Munson. Don’t… Fine, don’t be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. So I’m going to ask you one last time, and I recommend you don’t think about it, because every time you do, it seems like all you do is push her further away. Do you, Edward Munson, like Y/N?” 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

More than Nancy could understand. More than even he understands. He likes you, more than just in the sense of what Nancy was referring to. He likes you as a person. He likes the way you challenge him, that you won’t take his shit. He likes the way you keep up with him even if you are motivated by a fire of hatred he’d built with his own two hands. He likes the way you clearly care about people, evident with how you treat everyone else. He likes the way you never cease to surprise him. He just… likes everything about you. Every single part of you he has been gifted with witnessing even when he’s undeserving, he fucking adores.

He never stood a chance. From the moment he first met you in that bar, it was always going to end this way for Eddie. All you had to do was lay your eyes on him, and his fate was sealed.

So, yeah. Eddie Munson likes you. Eddie Munson loves you. 

—

HOUR TWENTY THREE - 3:00 PM

You don’t even make it outside the apartment building.

You make it down the hallway, sniffling the entire way and ignoring the curious glances from the neighbor that walks past you. Clearly, the entire building must have heard your fight with Eddie. They probably even heard the debauchery you two had taken part in on his balcony beforehand. 

They probably think you’re insane. You don’t really care. 

Once you enter the stairwell, it all becomes a bit too much. Your head is spinning as you take a few of the steps before you give up, dropping down to sit on one and succumbing to the dizzying feeling with your head between your knees. It’s a lot – Eddie has given you a plethora of information, too much to be able to stomach all in one go but necessary to offer you all at once. 

He always loved you. He’d felt it too, that first night. All your blooms and all your vines hadn’t been what gave you away, but instead his own garden that had begun. And instead of tending to it as you had been prepared to with your own, he’d gone and drowned it. He’d taken away any glimpse of sunshine and cut off all nutrients, tried to starve the thing inside of him away and burn it with unnecessary hatred. 

It was all so unnecessary. So, so unnecessary. 

The girl you once were isn’t something of the past. You were foolish to believe there was any separation – between who you were the first night and now, between who Eddie was that night and who he was as you left him behind. You’re both still the same people, still in the same position. 

You never stopped looking for Eddie in every room you entered. You never stopped biting your tongue at the thought of starting a conversation with him, never stopped aching to reach out for him even as he filled the ocean between you two. Every single date you’d gone on after meeting him had been a flurry of excuses. 

No, not excuses. Comparisons.

Every single person that had shown you interest in the last year had been subjected to a side by side comparison to the man you couldn’t have. To the man you thought you’d held in the palms of your hands for a night, only to have it all taken away so suddenly. None of them drank whiskey and coke. None of them wore rings on their knuckles that they would fidget with when nervous. None of them reacted when you’d stumble beside them, none of them ever offered to foot the bills of the dates they took you on. And every time you noticed these insignificant details, you’d only think of moments with a certain long-haired metalhead. 

You’d spent a year convincing yourself that there was only bad. Spent a year ignoring that nagging in the back of your head, when Eddie had been the worst fucking actor you’d ever met. He was right – his affection had seeped out time and time again, had reached out and wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Most of the time, it was your irritation that led to any arguments turning into true fights. 

You weren’t innocent in this. The blame is shared. You’d both been victims, time and time again, of absolute self-destruction. 

When your phone rings, you indulge yourself in the hope that it’s Eddie. 

It’s Steve.

“Hello-”

“What the fuck happened?” Steve cuts right to the chase, ignoring your greeting, “What the fuck does Eddie mean the bet is off?”

He’d called Steve. Obviously.

“It means the bet is off,” you feel a fresh wave of tears choke you up, “We didn’t last the full twenty four hours. We lost.”

Steve’s scoff echoes over the line, “You’re telling me that with not even two hours to spare, the two of you now find it to be a bit much? It’s been twenty two hours, nearly twenty three, what harm is there in a few mo-”

“A lot of harm, actually,” you cut him off this time, in no mood to be scolded like a child. None of them knew what had happened. None of them knew how everything had changed so drastically between you and Eddie, “I- I called it off. It was me. I’ll come up with the money for you guys, just give me a few weeks.” 

Do they know about Eddie’s feelings? Had you been the only one so oblivious to being caught up in a lie?

“Hold on, hold on,” Steve tries to soothe you, but it does nothing. When a sob escapes you, the dam finally breaking through, he grows even more panicked, “What the actual fuck happened?”

You don’t answer the question. “Can you come pick me up?” 

“I- Excuse me?”

“I need a ride,” you gasp out, swiping rapidly at your face to hide the evidence of your breakdown as you can hear someone walking up the stairs, “Can you- Christ, Harrington, can you just come pick me up?” 

More neighbors. More nosey glances. Fuck them. 

“No.” 

You almost think you heard Steve wrong. “What?”

“No, I will not be coming to pick you up.” 

“Why?” 

Your chest is aching with every sob you withhold. Trying to cling to composure, trying to cling to the fact that the worst was over. The wound could heal. The wound had to heal. 

“Tell me what happened,” Steve demands, “Tell me what the fuck has happened over the last twenty something hours, and I’ll come pick you up. But if you don’t tell me, I’m tossing my fucking keys in the canal and you can be  stuck with him for the rest of your life for all I care.” 

And therein lies the issue. You don’t want to tell him. Suddenly, you’re something animalistic, the memories of the last twenty three hours becoming something of such substance to you that you wouldn’t dare to part with them. You want to hold each moment, each stepping stone along this rocky path, close to your chest and swipe out at anyone who gets too close. You need to cradle them with care and dissect each one for your own sanity, picking apart all the times you were too blind to see the truth. 

You make your decision. The animal inside of you, hiding amongst vines of affection and blooms of hope, decides. “I can’t.” 

“You can’t, or you won’t?” 

You both know the clear distinction, and you can’t be bothered to care as your breathing finally evens, the sobs settling themselves down.

“I won’t.” 

It’s quiet for a while until you hear Steve finally laugh in disbelief. A sharp breath out at first, that grows more into a chuckle that you know pairs with him shaking his head.

“Jesus,” he whispers, “I… okay. I get it. I don’t know what the Hell went down, and I won’t force you to give me a play by play,” he pauses, and you can hear the but before he even says it. It stretches over that pregnant pause, silence only broken up by static from the phone line until he speaks again, “But you’ve got to give me something to work with here. Eddie randomly texts me that the bet is off and to tell the others, and then I call you just for you to start sobbing-“

“He only texted you?” you interrupt the plea, brows furrowing, “He just… He texted you and no one else? Did he call Nancy?” 

“What? No. I’m the only one who’s heard anything from him.” 

You stare at the wall across from you, gaze digging right into one of the cracks filled with dust.

Fuck it.

“He told me he loves me, Steve,” you begin to open up, prying that memory from the claws of the animal. It doesn’t go down without a fight, screeching as you say the words, protesting offering even the smallest of breadcrumbs to your friend. You don’t have to tell Steve everything — but you can tell him this. “He said he never really hated me, and that he loves me.” 

There’s nothing for Steve to say. You don’t know if it’s because they all really did know, saw what you couldn’t, or maybe if Eddie had already admitted this to the others. But in his honesty, he’d only mentioned Nancy knowing. And you’d seen the twist of his lips, the pinch of his eyes during that recount; you doubt anyone else knows. 

He’d been prepared to take this secret to the grave. To keep it, even from you.

“I liked him,” you admit in that quiet stairwell, almost forgetting Steve was on the other end of the line, “God, I- I just liked him so much that first night. I wanted to waste all my time getting to know him. I know you all saw it after he went cold.” 

How I searched for him in every room. How I’d always ask if he would be at functions. How I’d gravitate straight to him on the rare occasions he was there. 

You continue on, your animal within finally stopping its petulant protests. It seems to understand; there’s a balance to be found. Admitting this doesn’t mean losing Eddie. It could mean more, “Even when he started being a fucking asshole, I wanted him. I always thought I’d just get him out of my system one of these days, but I didn’t. Not even after tonight. I… I like him.” 

It’s not love. Not quite what Eddie had felt, because his plan had worked to some extent. You’d been held at an arm's length for so long, the like never had the chance to grow into love. 

“So go get him.” 

It’s the last thing you expected from Steve. “What?” 

“You like him. Present tense,” he parrots your words back to you with emphasis, “So go get him. You said he loves you, kid. And sure, there’s a lot to work through there, but the bet isn’t off yet. Texts can be deleted. I can take a few hours to come get you. Just…” you listen to his deep breath over the phone, letting his words settle within you, “What’s the worst that can happen? You guys hate each other? I think we’re a little past that now.” 

“Yeah,” you find yourself laughing, only half amused, “We are kind of past that.” 

What is the worst that can happen? 

“At the very least, tell him how you feel,” Steve continues on in such a calming tone, your chest clenches, “Because I’m sensing that you haven’t. Or else you wouldn’t be sitting on the phone crying to me, and Munson wouldn’t be impulsively texting me.” 

“It wasn’t that impulsive,” you hum, leaning your cheek against the cool railing beside you, still mulling over your options. Really, option. Singular. “I made it very clear that it was over.” 

Steve lets out a groan, and you smile despite yourself, “You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.” 

“I kind of did.” 

“Then go fix it!” Steve’s exclamation makes you lift your head again, “He’s an asshole, okay? We can agree on that. He’s fucking dumb, and he’s an asshole, and he definitely isn’t some dreamboat in my opinion-“

“You know, I have a bone to pick with you there,” you’re already standing up, heading inclined towards the door you had just burst through, feet heavy as you try to dig within yourself for just a little bit of bravery, “Why the fuck would you say what you did that night? When I met him. You told him I’d never go for him.” 

“I didn’t think you would. I mean, you didn’t jump my bones when you met me, and I am a goddamn dream boat.” 

“Steve Harrington,” you take the first step, suddenly determined, “You’re a fucking idiot. I kind of hate you right now.” 

“More than you hate Eddie?” 

“So much more.” 

“Then go tell him that,”  Steve instructs as you take a few more steps, back up on the platform for Eddie’s floor already, “Make me the bad guy, I don’t care. Tell him he even gets a free punch.”

“I get a free punch first,” your free hand reaches out to grab the door, gripping but not pulling. Not yet, “We’ll see if you’re still such a dreamboat with a broken nose.” 

It’s all teasing, but Steve can tell your anger beneath it all is very real. It isn’t something all consuming or dangerous, but it is well deserved for what he’d put you and Eddie through. All with one little throwaway comment. 

“I deserve that,” he affirms, “I really, really deserve that. Scout’s honor that you’ll get your punch when I pick you up in… say, an hour?” 

You nod, and start to pull on the door, “See you in an hour, Harrington.” 

You hang up before he can say another word. There’ll be time for more scolding later, for more genuine conversation at the hand everyone had in all that went wrong. But for now, you only have one boy on your mind. 

And apparently, he’s in love with you. Has been for a long time.

You race down that hallway faster than you had when you’d left, determination throwing you forward with each step as you grow closer to apartment 2C. You raise your fist when you come face to face with Eddie’s front door, still terribly insistent and strangely brave, when suddenly — it opens up.

“I-“ you squeak out, fist still frozen and poised in the air. 

Eddie has never looked more frazzled. He’d been clearly running his hands through his curls, frizzing them up nearly comically. His eyes are red from tears, and if you look close enough, you can see an indent in his bottom lip from his teeth digging in.

Your eyes meet his, and all he can do is sigh your name. 

You take a few steps back, and he follows. You tell yourself you need the distance, because without it, you might throw caution to the wind and just kiss him again. That’s not what you came here to do – before you can ever kiss him again, before you can put not only yourself but him through that, you need to tell him. 

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest, and you repeat Steve’s words over and over in your mind.

So go get him.

What’s the worst that can happen?

“I thought you were leaving.” 

His voice is a broken whisper, gravely from the tears he’s no doubt been succumbing to since your exit. You search his face for any sign that he might still be far away from you, still in his head, but all you can see is that he’s here. 

He’s here, with you, in this moment. 

“I never made it down the stairs,” your voice cracks terribly, croaky and shaking until you clear your throat, “I- Steve called me.” 

“I texted him. To let him know the bet is off.” 

“I know.” 

It’s awkward, but without ice. It’d be impossible not to be, even when every glance into his eyes just fills you with warmth.

There will be time to be angry later. With Steve, and with Eddie. One day, you’ll spare the time to mull over the way he continued to treat you even after his own personal revelation of how he loved you. You should pay more attention to it now, but every time your mind tries to go there, it just becomes overcast with what’s happened on this night. 

You can’t erase the past. Good or bad. Both exist, and both fuel you as you take one more step back and support yourself against the wall across from his door, just as you had when you’d first arrived twenty three hours before. 

Eddie takes several deep breaths before he follows you. You don’t have to say a word out loud; he’s completely in tune with you as he leaves his front door wide open and walks to stand beside you. Only then, when you’re both on the same side of the hallway, do you both slide down to sit on the floor. 

“We need to talk,” you sigh, watching the way your knee knocks into his. Gentle brushes, soft touches. There’s no room for any thorns here. Your vines have wrapped their way around not just you, but him as well, and there’s far too many flowers thriving along them to even think of such dangerous pricks to linger, “I know what I said. I know that I left. But…” But I can’t stay gone. I can’t let it end like this. I can’t do it, not like this. “I never made it past the stairs.” 

His shoulder bumps yours, forces you to look at him as he offers a sad smile. He can tell you're nervous, can tell that you’re the one who’s slipping away into their mind now. 

“Hey,” he says softly, “It’s just you and me. Just two people who hate each other’s guts, remember?” 

“Except we never did,” you remind him, finally looking down to pick at the frays of your jeans, “We never hated each other’s guts. And that’s… the issue? Maybe not issue. It’s not a problem to be solved. But, you were honest with me, and I think I need to be honest back.” 

I need to say more than just no.

“I like you, Eddie,” you finally spit out, craving relief from the admission. But it won’t come, not quite yet. Not until he hears your full truth, “I liked you from that very first night. I just- when I was in this room full of people I didn’t know, not well enough at least, you took one look at me and decided that you’d sit by my side. You’d be my friend. I don’t care how the night ended and I don’t care that you went back on your gut reaction,” you take a sharp breath, and finally relief finds you as you whisper, “You chose me. That very first night, you chose me. And I want to figure out how to get back to that, not pretending to hate each other.” 

You hold no expectations for how Eddie will react, especially given that your confession was seemingly less monumental than his, but his hand coming down on your knee surprises you all the same. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and you believe it. There’s no hesitation in your belief this time. It goes without saying that you know he’ll probably spend the rest of his life sorry, trying to make up for the last year. 

You decide to put your hand over his, let your palm press into those knuckles before you move to slip your fingers between his, “I don’t want things to go back to normal. I just want us to be able to start over.” 

You catch his smile out the corner of your eye, “Yeah? That’d be pretty nice. Maybe this time I won’t be such a dick.” 

“And maybe this time I won’t throw a glass at your head,” you add, leaning into him a little, feeling his grip on your knee tighten with affection.

He shakes his head briefly before throwing it back against the wall, “I deserved that. When I deserve it, you are always welcome to throw a glass at my head.” 

“That’s an expensive way to deal with things.” 

“We’ll get the glasses from Goodwill.” 

Both of you are softly laughing when your head meets his shoulder. You should probably be talking more properly, but you don’t. You decide to just enjoy this time with him. You have an hour left.

When the door to the right of Eddie’s opens up, you both straighten up a bit, and you watch in real time as the embarrassed blush lights up across Eddie’s cheeks at the sight of his neighbor — Mr. Jenkins.

He pauses, and God you wish he hadn’t, because now your insides are turning with your own self-consciousness. He takes in the sight of you two, sitting out in the apartment building hallway, hands entertained and heads leaning on one another, and then he chuckles.

“Good. Glad you two kids figured it out. Now please, for the love of God, keep those activities private. Indoors. No more balconies.” 

Eddie has burned past pink, now a brilliant red. You’re surprised when a soft giggle escapes you, the ridiculousness of everything that has happened finally hitting you. Eddie turns his head to look at you with wild eyes, a silent scream of traitor before he faces the elderly man again.

He clears his throat, “Right. Uh, of course. Sorry, Mr. Jenkins.”

He grumbles a bit as he turns away from you two, still smiling as you can hear the faint “Yeah, yeah,” of his words.

The moment you two are alone again, you can’t help it — you burst into laughter.

Genuine and much needed laughter fills your lungs, expanding them beyond capacity as you finally let yourself just let go of the night. All the fights, all the stress, all the misunderstandings, and all the honesty seem to melt like butter from you, the tension leaving your soldiers for the first time in what feels like hours. You like him, you like him, you like him. No matter what happens after this, you like him. Just as you had that first night. Nothing can really take that from you; all the miniscule details can be worked out later. Any arguments and any fights that need to be had can be handled tomorrow. For today, you like Eddie Munson, and that’s enough.

“It’s not funny!” 

“Oh, it’s fucking hilarious,” you gasp out as Eddie gently slaps your shoulder, “That poor old man fully saw your dick.” 

“I’ll never be able to face him again,” Eddie deadpans. You don’t catch his adoring smile as you only laugh harder, “I’ll never be able to know peace in these halls again.”

You quiet down your giggles, taking your hand from his to swipe at the tears of joy that had gathered. Your stomach aches in the best way, finally, “Should’ve kept it in your pants, Munson.” 

“Says the minx.” 

It’s nice. Just as you had thought — there would be a time to laugh about it. And now, as your temple falls back against Eddie’s t-shirt and he snakes an arm around your back, is the best moment you can think of. 

The two of you let silence settle again. All you can hear is the other’s breathing, deep and calm and assured breaths that don’t whisper of any secrets or any panic. It’s peaceful; it’s absolute bliss. 

“God, I need a nap,” Eddie mumbles as he trails a finger in an insistent circle over your shoulder. Gentle and feathery light, repetitive enough to almost lull you to sleep, “How do other people do this shit?”

“I don’t know, but a nap sounds heavenly,” you nearly moan. You can picture it now, wrapping up in your usually mediocre comforter back in your dorm room, and your uncomfortable mattress has never been more romanticized.

Eddie stares at his open door for a second, thinking, “Is, uh, Harrington coming to get you?” 

You only nod against his shoulder.

“Did he tell the others that the bet is- or was- or-“

“No,” you laugh as he fumbles over the specifics, “He never told the others. As far as they know… We made it.” 

Eddie sighs in relief, “Oh, thank God. I did not want to have to pay any of those fuckers.” 

“They never would have let us live that down.” 

“Never.”

Another lapse of silence. There’s times where you think Eddie might get up, might hold out his hand for you to take and drag you into his apartment again. Maybe try and let you two squeeze one last nap in, considering the way you’re already half unconscious on his shoulder. But he never does. The two of you sit in the comforting silence of that hallway, backs pressed to the wall and bodies leaning into each other’s gravitational pull. 

Getting him was never really about having another hard conversation. Just making sure he knew that his feelings were returned, to remind him of the change that had happened within you over these last twenty three hours, was plenty enough for you. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. Neither of you have a clock, but you can both feel the time running out, “I, uh, want to say one last thing before this is all… over.” 

“What’s up?” you mumble into the material of his t-shirt. The one that your nose nearly turns and buries into, trying to enjoy that last bit of boy that has lingered after him since the beginning of the night. 

“I need you to know I didn’t tell you everything just for this to happen,” he begins to explain, “Like, I never loved you with the intent of being loved. I actually love you without ever expecting you to reciprocate, whether it’s embarrassingly admitting you have a crush on me-” one of your hands limply comes up to hit at his chest in a pathetic lack of strength, which makes him pause to chuckle, “-or if you came back here and said that you were… like, wildly in love with me. Or you could have even said you never really want to see me again. That was never the point.”

“What if I came back just to say I forgot something? Like, ‘oh, hey, I just forgot my chapstick’?” you’re nearly slurring your words in fatigue, but still smile at the thought of doing that just to fuck with him. 

“I’d probably lie and say that there’s not a single tube of chapstick in that apartment,” he admits, his palm now just cupping your shoulder, drinking in the privilege of touching and holding you this way as he gives it a squeeze, “And then I would have shut the door, and started searching like a mad man for that fucking chapstick, and never would have told you once I found it.” 

You snort, “Keeping my chapstick? Pervert.” 

You shift your head to just barely peer up at him, and you see those fucking dimples. You can’t believe there was a time where you didn’t notice those. 

“I’m serious, though,” he lets his smile falter just a bit, but those innocent indents don’t, “You could still say the word, tell me you don’t mean it and you don’t even like me in the slightest, and it’d be fine. No hard feelings, truly.” 

He’d just succumb to the terrible fight he’d been running from this entire time. From the moment he had met you. He’d succumb to his worst fear and let himself burn for you, even if you didn’t burn with him. 

“Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“Stop being such a fucking idiot,” you chastize as you lift your head from his should. His arm remains around you, not even slipping, “Stop trying to talk me out of liking you. It’s done – I like you. End of story.” 

His smile turns into something sad for a second, something almost sour, before it really does fall completely. Only the ghosts of those dimples remain for a moment in your memory. Suddenly, you get what he means. He isn’t trying to deter you, only remind you of what you need to consider.

It’s not just another moment of insecurity. 

You probably should be putting up more of a fight. All the damage done, both tonight and in the last year, can’t really be erased in the matter of an hour. It’s a whisper of it’s okay to take time to heal, a true white flag of surrender being waved from across his ocean. 

Vines, oceans, fires, glass walls – all of the metaphors have finally turned trivial. 

“I might need time,” you give in just a little bit, knowing it’s for the best, “I… I mean, everything can’t really change so quickly. Maybe we give it a few days. A few weeks, if we have to. We…” 

“Just spent twenty four hours together, and could use the time apart?” he ends your sentence for you in a joking tone, but you both know it’s true. 

The time apart would not only do you well, but answer the burning question on both your minds – does this last past tonight? 

Right now, you’re sure it does. But it’s possible you’ll return to your dorm room, that Eddie will spend some time in his apartment without you hovering around every corner, and that it could change. That is entirely possible. 

It’s something you almost need to mentally prepare yourself for. 

“Yeah,” you rasp out, almost choked back up at the reality of it all. You blame it on the lack of sleep, “Yeah, we could probably use some time apart.” 

Saying it out loud goes against every gut instinct you have. 

“Yep,” Eddie almost seems to also be gritting those words out, tongue almost more stubborn than yours, “Time apart. Just to think. Not… uh, not forever. Not unless we decide it needs to be.” 

You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.

How many couples have had this exact conversation? How many have promised temporary time apart, only to never see each other again? 

It strikes a little bit of childish fear in you, but Eddie’s arm is still warm and heavy around your back, his palm rubbing up and down along your bicep as if he can sense all that doubt that you battle with. 

It’s okay. Leaving for now is not leaving forever. Besides, you once lived a life without Eddie Munson in it. You can live that once more, if needed.

You like him. You liked him that first night, and you like him now. You like to enter rooms and know his eyes seek you out, you like to know that every time he crosses your mind that there’s a possibility that you’re also plaguing his thoughts. Time, distance, and hatred have never been able to change that.

“I-” you start to say, more vulnerability metallic on your tongue and more honesty poised for his taking, when you’re both cut off by a familiar figure coming down the hallway. 

It’s not a neighbor, not another set of judgmental eyes. 

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

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[haechani4ever]

hello!! can you write a jeno fluff where you offer to sleep in a different room because your work schedules are so different and you don't wanna wake him up when you have to get up for work 🥰

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: separate rooms ✧

. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋsummary you always woke up jeno when you went to work, so you decide to offer him a solution.

. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋpairing idol!jeno x idol!reader

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋgenre fluff

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋwarnings pet names (angel, honey, babe, etc)

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋwc 0.7k

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋnote hii, this is my first rq so im so happy. thanks for requesting, I really appreciate it <3

it all started when your comeback came out. this means that you are busy all day with promotions and so on. your day started very early and every time you got out of bed you woke up your boyfriend, jeno. he was an idol, just like you, but his promotions had already ended a few weeks ago, so he was on break while they prepared the next comeback.

so yes, when your alarm went off at 5am and you had to get out of bed, he woke up too. he always seemed to go back to sleep after that, so it didnt seem like a big problem at first. but one day while you had a short break between your activities you decided to send him a message to see how he was doing.

you: hi jens.

you: what u doing?

jens💘: hii babe

jens💘: just watching tiktok since you left

you: you didnt go back to sleep?

jens💘: no

jens💘: i usually cant go back to sleep after you leave

you felt so bad about that. you felt bad for disturbing his rest. you know jeno andhow much he likes to sleep and rest, so you were kind of gloomy the rest of the day because of that. but talking to your group mates they gave you an idea so as not to wake him up. they told you that it was best to sleep in separate rooms. you considered it and came to the conclusion that maybe it was for the best so you would only bring it up to your boyfriend when you got home.

you arrived a little before the time the two of you normally had dinner. as soon as you opened the door, the hot air from the heating and the smell of food hit your face. you left your shoes and bag at the entrance and headed to the kitchen where jeno was. he turned around when he felt your presence in the room and he gave you the warmest smile and walked towards you to hug you.

"hello angel, how was your day?" you hugged him back and let out a tired sigh. "today was good. how are you?" you said as they separated. he returned to where he was cooking. it was something he did when he knew you would be a little late. you leaned against the door frame as you watched him cook.

"my day was also good, i was resting" the message he had sent you this morning saying that he had not fallen asleep again and the advice from your group mate came back to your mind. "are you sure? you said you hadnt gone back to sleep" your voice changed showing concern. "oh, its okay, angel. don't worry."

"no baby, its not okay" you said as you approached him and hugged him from behind. "you work so hard all year round, i cant just wake you up when you can finally rest" you rested your head on his back. he in response caressed your arms and hands that were around his waist. "honey, i think we should sleep in separate rooms."

he turned around quickly as soon as he heard you. this made you break away from the hug and when you looked at his face he looked confused. "what did you just say?" you looked at him also confused "yeah, i think we should sleep separately so i dont wake you up" he let out a giggle that seemed like he was mocking what you just told him "aw, baby you dont need to do that. the reason i cant get back sleeping when youre gone is because youre not in bed with me. unless you want me to not even be able to sleep at night, i think thats such a bad idea."

"but baby, i want you to keep sleeping when i get up," you said with a worried expression on your face. although you did not deny that what jeno had previously said had relieved you. "well, we will find a solution to that, i dont know, i will hug a pillow with your perfume, but there is no way i will sleep without you"

you did nothing but smile in response. he caressed your arm before returning to his task and you went to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. that was something you loved about jeno. he was a man who solved anything, you were lucky to have him by your side.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3

Part 4

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.

I’m brushing my hair in front of the mirror when I see Carlos walk into the room early in the morning. He enters without knocking, as if it were just another normal morning in our lives.

“Have you seen my…” he begins, then stops when he sees me standing in front of the mirror. I watch, through the reflection, his eyes taking in my body in just my panties. He stands there frozen for a moment, and I smile seeing this.

“Next time, knock before entering,” I say and turn to face him.

“Well, this is my room too,” he replies, snapping out of his trance and approaching me slowly.

“Not since you decided to sleep in the next room.” He nods, knowing my response is fair. I move away and head to the closet to get dressed, and he follows closely behind.

“By the way, I need to book the hotel for your cousin’s wedding,” I comment to Carlos. “Should I ask for separate rooms?”

I feel like a good actress asking this with such disdain, as if I didn’t care what his choice would be, even though I miss sharing a bed with him.

“No,” he responds quickly, then backtracks. “I mean, if you don’t mind, there’s no need.”

“Okay, I’ll ask Lando to handle it,” I reply. Carlos remains there, watching me dress. I’m not sure why he’s there, although the pants and shirt he’s wearing suggest he has some commitment to attend.

“Do you need help with something?” I finally ask him.

“Yes, yes.” He snaps back to reality and remembers why he’s there. “Do you know where my cufflinks are?”

“Which ones do you want?” I ask, opening the drawer where I kept them.

“The ones you gave me for my birthday,” he says, and I retrieve the box for him. I move closer to help him put them on.

“Important meeting today?” I ask, taking his left hand. The weeding ring, which I hadn’t seen in a while, is back on his hand, and I smile.

“Yes, I’ll be meeting with some members from other families today,” he observes the movement of my hands on his shirt cuff.

“Good luck then,” I smile at him. “And before you leave, sign the birthday card for Fernando that I left in your office earlier, and then you can give his gift to him later.”

“gift for Fernando?” He asks, curious.

“I figured you’d forget his birthday, like all the other years, so I decided to buy something ahead of time.” I finish adjusting the cufflinks and then straighten his shirt.

“And why do we need to give him a gift?” Carlos asks, a hint of irritation in his voice that I don’t understand.

“Because he’s our friend?” I ask, not understanding what’s going on. He furrows his brow and scoffs. He mutters the word 'friend' again, and then I realize he’s jealous of my gesture, feeling threatened by it.

I see how absurd this idea is and how I managed to get into Carlos’s head with the conversation from last night. Fernando was a family friend who had never given Carlos any reason to be suspicious.

“I have to go. I’ll see you later,” I step back, but Carlos’s hand stops me. He pulls me close again and kisses me with urgency. It’s desperate, and his hands grip my body; he doesn’t care about messing up my hair. It’s as if he wants to prove a point that only he can do this.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmurs when he finally lets me go.

….

“This is the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen in my life,” Lando murmurs to me as he observes the small puppy in one of the adoption pens.

“Don’t say that, he’ll get sad” I pat Lando’s shoulder and lean in to look at the little puppy.

“There are some cuter ones over there, look at that one, it even looks like a golden retriever,” he points out, but it’s too late.

“I want this one,” I smile at him. He was right before, the puppy wasn’t as charming as the others, but it had stolen my heart. Maybe I really had a tendency to fall for lost causes. “You’re going to love your new home.”

“Why do you want a dog so much?” The boy asks.

“For company. I’ve been feeling so alone in that house lately, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of joy there.”

“And does Mr. Sainz know about this?”

“No, let’s just make it a surprise,” I smile at him.

“And how are things with you guys?”

“I gave him an ultimatum yesterday, and he seems to be freaking out about it.” I pick up the small golden-haired puppy, now nestled in my arms, his tail wagging with happiness. “He got jealous of Nando this morning, out of nowhere.”

“Nando? Like Mr. Alonso?” Norris asks, and I nod. We head towards the tables where the adoption paperwork is being done.

“Yes,” I reply, and I see the confusion on Lando’s face. “As I said… it was out of nowhere. And the worst part is that Carlos’s jealousy leads to the best sex ever, and I can’t sleep with him, not until I’m sure he’s moved on from that girl.”

“Ugh, Y/N. I really didn’t need that information,” he makes a disgusted face.

…..

When Carlos comes home, he finds me lying on the sofa, watching some silly romantic comedy with our new puppy, Paco, in my lap.

“And who is this little creature?” Carlos asks as he approaches. Paco looks at the man with suspicion but doesn’t resist to Carlos, starting to wag his tail eagerly for his attention.

“This is Paco,” I smile at the puppy. “I got him this morning. Isn’t he adorable?”

Carlos stares at him as he takes the dog into his lap. “Yes, he… is definitely something.” He tries to smile, although he has the same expression Lando had when he saw little Paco at the park. “I didn’t know you wanted a dog.”

“I thought it would be nice to have some company here at home,” I smile at Carlos as I see him playing with the little dog in his lap. “How was your meeting?”

“It went well, no need to worry.” He looks at me and then returns his attention to Paco. The sight makes me melt at how gentle Carlos is. “Fernando invited us to dinner with him. Some other bosses will be there too, to celebrate his birthday.”

“Is that an invitation, Carlos?” I ask him, still not understanding if he wanted my company.

“Yes, yes. If you want to go, of course… it will be at that restaurant you like, by the way.” He replies, looking uncomfortable.

“Alright,” I smile at him and then take Paco from his lap before heading out to get ready.

It wasn’t the first time I had attended such dinners with Carlos. Usually, some other bosses would bring their families or go alone if they were still single. I remember how anxious I was the first time I had to attend one of these, how I feared all these seemingly lethal creatures. Over time, I got used to them all, began to understand that, behind the business, they were all good people as much as possible, and I didn’t need to fear those who were allies of Carlos.

When we finally arrive at the restaurant, Carlos helps me out of the car. He offers his arm as we approach the entrance, his scent enveloping me, and I enjoy our closeness.

As we enter, he helps me take off my coat, revealing the Dolce & Gabbana black dress, which falls just below my knee.

It’s nice to be there, chatting with the other wives and laughing a bit, although it’s lonely listening to them share stories of vacations with their husbands and the mishaps they got into when I had nothing to share with them, not when my marriage had been falling apart for some time ago.

“Definitely a beautiful necklace, but the diamonds don’t even come close to the shine of Y/N’s smile,” I hear Sebastian’s voice interrupt the conversation I was having about jewerly with Carmen, George’s girlfriend, one of the right hands of the Hamilton family.

She laughs at the German’s words, and I lower my head, blushing. I touch the necklace, the diamond riviera cold against my skin, adjusting the emerald gem resting on my neck, a nervous gesture before turning to the German.

“And you’re just being kind,” I tease Vettel, who is leaning over the chair next to me with his usual cheeky smile. “It’s good to see you again,” I greet him.

“And you’re just being modest,” he replies, pulling out the chair and asking if he can sit next to me. I nod, my husband, lost for a long time in conversation with the other bosses, doesn’t seem to notice Sebastian’s presence.

Sebastian sits down, asks how things are in Spain, and tells me more about Germany and how the business is on his side of the country. He is still single, just like Nando, and he always has that flirting attitude, although he always known that I was very happily married to Carlos. Vettel and Carlos were friends, and it was never anything more than a joke from the German; it was never a problem for any of us, it was just his arrogant and cheeky personality that seemed to captivate everyone.

Even though all of Seb’s hints were innocent, I couldn’t help but respond to his flirts that night. Not when it had been so long since I felt desired by any man, and this little act of attention made me as happy as a little girl with butterflies in her stomach. I could pretend, just for this moment, that someone really desired me, could pretend that there were no problems in my marriage, could stop pretending to be the perfect wife for a second.

It’s refreshing and fun, and between a glass or two of wine, Carlos suddenly appears between us, interrupting the moment.

“Sebastian, you should know it’s impolite to monopolize another person’s wife,” Carlos comments tensely, his body next to my chair, one hand firmly gripping the armrest. His voice is cold, and even without seeing him, I can imagine how frustrated he is.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Carlos,” Sebastian laughs, not caring about Carlos’s comment. “It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Sainz. I hope to see you soon.” Vettel smiles and leaves, leaving a sulky Carlos to sit next to me.

Carlos stays by my side for the rest of the night. He talks to the friends across the table and remains next to me throughout. His arm resting on my shoulders is nothing more than possessiveness; he doesn’t care about being affectionate or showing happiness in my company, just wants to show who I belong to.

On the drive home, I watch Carlos sitting next to me in the back seat. He looks troubled, not daring to mention Sebastian’s name, but it feels like any moment one of us could explode in that car.

I hold the diamond necklace, trying to keep my distress at bay with the cold touch of the diamonds on my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Carlos with his head tilted back against the car ceiling, breathing deeply and heavily, trying not to let whatever is going through his confused mind take over.

When we finally get home, I find the courage to start a conversation with Carlos. I finally have the courage to speak about how I’m feeling at that moment, without games and provocations.

“At first, I thought you were giving me mixed signals, but then, tonight, I understood…” I whisper, sitting on the sofa, taking off my high heels. “I thought you were just having silly jealousy and that it was only the part of you that still loves me taking care of me…”

“What did you expect me to feel after what you told me yesterday? That I should just stand by and watch you become Mrs. Vettel?” He scoffs, pulling at his tie several times impatiently.

“I’m not you, Carlos! I don’t need to jump to the next man just because I’m bored at home.” He just looks at me, his brown eyes shining in the dimly lit room. “The worst part is that I thought this reaction meant you still loved me. But, in reality, it was just you being afraid of losing me, not losing your wife and companion, but it’s like I’m a toy you don’t want to give up.”

“Y/N…” Carlos calls me softly, understanding a bit of my pain or at least trying.

“Every time I look at you, I feel more alone,” I sigh, a stubborn tear falls, and I try to brush it away quickly. Carlos sits next to me on the sofa. Maybe it’s just in my mind, but his eyes also seem sad. “You look at me as if I’m just anyone in your life. And I really need you to be honest with me.”

He nods, it seems that for the first time I’m going to get a real conversation with my husband, with no more barriers.

“Do you feel anything for her?” I ask, and Carlos is surprised by the question. He looks at me uncertainly and finally decides to be honest.

“I think I love her.” When I hear his answer, it feels like a thousand knives cutting through me. I didn’t expect this, maybe a silly passion, but not love.

“I can make you love me again,” my voice comes out shaky. I turn to face him, tears streaming down my face now. “Start over, just me and you.”

“Cariño,” he calls me by the nickname I haven’t heard in a long time and pulls me into his strong arms, a form of support. “I never stopped loving you, I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried.” He sighs, holding me close, I can’t see his expression, but I hear his voice breaking. “But, unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. We fought too much and wore each other down, and… I forgot the good times we had.”

“I’m pathetic enough to hate the thought of losing you. You were right… I think at this moment I’d prefer to gouge out my own eyes than even think about losing you to someone else, and, in the same way, I can’t imagine how I hurt you and how you’re still here.”

“I guess I just love you more than I love myself,” I confess. “I would do anything to make things between us go back to how they were before, but I need to know if you can do that too.”

“If you’re ready to forgive me…” Carlos’s voice is muffled. He pauses as if holding back a sob before continuing. “I’ll be ready to try with you.”

I pull away from his embrace, needing to look into his eyes to truly believe what he said, to understand the information I just heard. His hand is busy wiping my tears, and I can see that his eyes are also misty. I allow myself to spend the night there, in his arms, feeling the comfort of home amidst the warmth of his embrace.

One more part! I hope you guys are enjoying it!

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

[leah-lover]

Meeting again. Alexia putellas × reader.

This is a look into the beginning of Alexia and reader's relationship before the big event.

This is part 1 of a series.

My life has been a bliss. As a Spaniard my dream was to join barcelona. I started out at the youth academy and moved up the rank until I found myself as a part of the senior team. 

My journey was full of ups from winning championships with my dream team to winning individual awards. However, I had a few downs, most notably my ACL tear. When I tore my ACL I thought my career had ended. My road to recovery was nothing short of hard but I got through it and came back stronger. I couldn't have gotten through it without my support system at barcelona. I had a whole network of loving friends who helped me, some I grew up with at the academy and others I met on the team. 

My most notable friend was alexia putellas, she and i met in my early days at barca. We bonded over our chosen path, and our will to do anything to be the best. In our early days of friendship I was always in awe of Alexia's eyes. I would find myself gazing into them for a long time.

One day while we were in the tactics room she whispered in my ear with the biggest smirk on her face “ you are staring people are gonna notice.”  my cheeks immediately turned red but i didn't say anything i just refocused my thoughts on the coach.

After everybody left the room, alexia and i stayed behind and closed the door. 

“Do you want to tell me something?” she said with a smile on her face. 

“ Always cocky. It's not funny anymore.” I responded, which led her to stop.

“ and i don't know if i should tell you anything.” I added.

“ Then don't;” she said. She then pushed me against the wall and started kissing me. The motion was swift but surprising. Without hesitation I leaned into the kiss. We didn't separate until our held breaths gave out.

“ Well, that answers that I guess.” I said, holding her hand.

Our relationship was almost perfect for 6 years after that. Of course we had little spats but nothing major. The world didn't know about us but our barca family did. We did everything together. We roomed together, sat in the locker room next to one another. We even captained our team together. She was a midfielder and I was a forward, our chemistry was pertinent on and off the pitch.

While our relationship was thriving, so was women’s football. More eyes were on us every year. The compassion got harder and we got better. We won several league titles,cups and even the champion’s league. The little spats started after Alexia won her ballon d’or. Alexia was a perfectionist, football was her life and it was mine too. We would get cuddled up in bed and watch hours of footage together and we both loved it. But the pressure was too much for her and she started to act out. She would stand me up for dates, not answer my calls, and leave me to go to bed alone. She made me feel like I was an inconvenience to her. I felt like I lost all priority in her life. 

One day I got home from training and left her behind like I had been doing for months. We were supposed to go  have lunch with my parents but she said she had to do extra training so we switched it to dinner. After about an hour of waiting after I got to the restaurant, my parents decided to go home without eating because Alexia didn't show up. She left me stranded  and ashamed. So I decided to end our relationship. I deserved better than to be number 2 in her life. Not after all we had gone through together. 

I got home, packed my bags and waited for her by the door. When she arrived I immediately got up.

“ You not coming to tonight's dinner is the last straw. I tried to be patient but I can't anymore. I love you, I always will. But I am leaving you and barcelona. I am not renewing my contract.3 i said, i then went to her and kissed her. Surprised, she whispered “ I am sorry, please don't leave.” 

I kissed her again and left. 

That was 3 years ago.

[koolades-world]

Congrats on 2k followers! 🥳

Can I request MC say prompt no.15 to Lucifer? MC was mad at Lucifer about something and tried to ignore him (obviously MC failed).

thank you!! first event request and starting off strong

not exactly sure how i'll organize it but if i get enough i think i'll make a separate masterlist for them! if not, i think i'll put them with drabbles :)

enjoy <3

prompt 15 w/ Lucifer

"Mc, I'm sorry." Lucifer trailed after you, wringing his hands nervously. You were silent with your arms crossed and walking away from him with a mission. You looked over your shoulder to give him a lethal glare: something he taught you. His brothers watched the two of you as you led him around the house while you attempted to complete regular tasks. For once, they felt bad for him but were glad they weren't the ones under fire of your scorn. They weren't about to intervene and take the fury themselves.

"I didn't know that the coffee was yours. Really, I'm sorry." He placed a hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, still quiet.

"I'm ignoring you," you said with a sharp exhale. You made your way to where you originally intended to be before your interruption, the library. Lucifer watched as you plopped down on one of the armchairs and grabbed a nearby book. He wasn't sure if it was yours to begin with because he thought he'd seen Satan reading something similar, but you opened it to where the bookmark was and started reading. With a sigh of his own, he left you alone in the library.

As soon as you heard the door of the library shut, you looked up from the book. You could tell from the way he looked at you that he knew that book wasn't actually yours. He could see behind the facade. It was hard to pretend to stay mad at him. But, you seriously had been looking forward to drinking that coffee. You just hadn't expected Lucifer to have been the one to had taken it. Perhaps he'd assumed it belonged to one of his brothers. Later you'd have to find him and apologize.

In the meantime, you meandered through the library, raking your fingertips over the spines of book likely older than you, searching for something interesting. You tried to read the titles, but eventually got lost in thought. You'd never heard Lucifer sound so defeated or genuinely sorry. It just proved how much he really cared. After wandering for you weren't sure how long, you finally selected a book about potions. It seemed interesting enough, and you might learn a thing or two. Besides, it gave you something to talk to Solomon about next to you saw him.

As you made your way back to where you were seated before, you noticed things were not they way you'd left them. A plush looking blanket was thrown over your armchair, and the fireplace was now lit, causing the room to be cast with a warm glow. However, the one thing that caught your attention the most was the mug sitting on the coffee table. Steam curled over the lip and it was in Lucifer's favorite mug. As you got closer, the distinct smell of coffee flooded your senses. Finally, the man responsibly for it came back into the room holding a small plate of cookies. When he saw you, an apologetic smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; that was rare sight.

"Ah, Mc. I was hoping I had more time to set up. I didn't realize you were still here." He set the plate down next to the mug. "This is for you." He gestured towards what he'd brought. You couldn't help but smile yourself. The effort he'd went to wasn't something you'd expect out of the avatar of pride himself. He really did care.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for overreacting." You set the book down.

"You reacted in an appropriate way. I should not have just taken what belonged to someone else. There is no need to be sorry." Before he could continue speaking, you threw yourself onto him and pulled him into a hug. You felt him chuckle while putting his arms around you in turn.

"You make it impossible to give you the cold shoulder, you know that, right?" You deeply exhaled, but this time, it was a happy one. His smile turned a little cheeky at your remark.

"Come enjoy your coffee before it gets cold." He took your hand and led you towards the chair. This side of Lucifer wasn't something he exposed often, but you loved it.

[lowkeychenle]

Irrevocably [ZCL] (M)

Description: You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction.

DID YOU MISS ME?! It's been so long someone should chop my hands off omg

Genre: Smut. Angst. Read at your own discretion!!! Read the warnings first please! It's mostly smut tho tbh

Also it's not proofread or anything crazy like that but I do hope y'all like it...I've been so busy sos

Content Warnings: Explicit, rough, unprotected sex (don't do the unprotected part), Chenle says pretty girl again (not sorry) and also slut because duality (again?), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (both), cum eating (like he actually eats his...own cum...), he's pretty pussy drunk in this he cums twice, Chenle is manipulative as hell in this!!! he is not a good guy in this fic!!! Do not read if you don't like it!!!!! Also I'm not sure if this can be considered infidelity but if you're sensitive to that topic read with caution!

Word Count: 4,877

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (mentions of Mark Lee x Reader)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

You can’t even say you haven’t heard from him in a while. That’s far from the truth—and in your opinion, maybe you hear from him too often. Your friendship was constructed long before any other aspect, but for as long as you could remember, it’s been you and Chenle.

Now there’s you, and there’s him. Inherently separate.

Your situation with him was simple—friends with benefits. And everything was working great at first, and the end wasn’t traumatic and the world didn’t crumble. You weren’t in love with each other, and you both mutually understood that the second someone has the potential to become more in one of your lives that you’d stop immediately.

So, when Chenle started talking to his now girlfriend, you did the right thing. The respectful thing. You backed off, and you wouldn’t say you regret it. He’s happy—happier than he was before, and that’s all you want for him. You’ve been friends for forever, after all, and what would that make you if you had ill wishes for him?

It was three months after he started dating his girlfriend that he introduced you to one of his friends, Mark. Fortunately, you got along with him well, and he gave you a much needed distraction from the empty void Chenle had left in your life. He’d been more than sex, but less than love. He gave you company and companionship, even if it was in an unconventional way.

You’d been up front and honest with Mark about your relationship with Chenle, but he didn’t mind as long as you were sure there hadn’t been feelings involved. For Chenle, you weren’t sure if he ever told his girlfriend about you. You wouldn’t blame him if he hadn’t, but considering you’d been sleeping together up until their first date, it might have been a good thing to mention.

The difference was simple—you and Mark weren’t anything, not really, but Chenle and his girlfriend were, in their words, serious. In fact, in the past four months, you hadn’t even slept with Mark. The most he was at this point was someone to keep you company.

And then everything blew up.

Chenle called you at 9 p.m., almost nine months after he started dating his girlfriend. You were in your apartment by yourself, watching the same TV show for the 70th time. You stare at your phone screen in confusion before you answer it.

“Hey,”

“Hey.” He lets out a breath, and the defeat in his voice hints something’s wrong.

“Everything okay?” you ask him, sitting up on your couch.

“We broke up.” Chenle pauses, maybe to contemplate what he says next. “Can I come see you? I know it’s random, and I probably shouldn’t, but to be bluntly fucking honest, I’ve missed you.”

“We talk all the time,” you mention and cradle your knees to your chest. 

The thought of allowing Chenle here so late scares you—old habits die hard. You feel like you owe more than that to both Mark and Chenle. Mark, because while you two aren’t together, you’ve grown quite close over the past few months. Chenle, because he’s probably not thinking straight at the moment.

“You’re the only one I can talk to about this,” he mumbles.

Your heart sinks. “It was because of me?”

“I…Not exactly. It wasn’t you at all. It was us. And it was me for not saying anything.” He sighs, and you envision the way he tugs his fingers through his hair.

“You never told her?”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” he says. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I used to fuck one of my closest friends on the regular, but now that you’re here, I stopped.’ That doesn’t sound great.”

“Better than her finding out some other way.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I told Mark.”

“That’s different,” Chenle replies. “You’re not dating Mark.”

A moment of silence passes between you two, and when you don’t respond, he clears his throat.

“Oh. You are.”

“It’s not like that.”

“So, what is it like? Is it like what we were?” He sounds shorter, as if he’s no longer enjoying the conversation.

You scoff. “It’s none of your business, Chenle. Mark is nice. And you’re the one who introduced us anyway.”

“Mark is nice,” he repeats, snorting. “You act like I don’t know you. Nice isn’t exactly your type.”

“You can come here if you stop being a dick,” you tell him. “But we’re only talking.”

“Good. I’ve got a lot to say.”

You debate changing after he hangs up, but Chenle’s already seen you at your worst. Your shorts and T-shirt won’t faze him in the slightest. Nerves like this haven’t swarmed you since the first time you slept with him. Clearly, your body doesn’t get the memo that this isn’t a booty call.

And when he arrives, you realize how well he fits. The dim, golden lighting reflecting off of his skin, the dark, oversized clothes he likes to wear, the way his hair is parted. Everything about him is exactly as you remember. It’s odd to think that way, because really, you’ve seen him as often as you used to. Things were just…different.

And under these circumstances, it’s awkward. But even when he was dating his girlfriend, there were times where the two of you were alone—nothing ever happened, of course, but it hadn’t ever been so nerve wracking until now.

It isn’t for long, though. Within seconds of your thoughts running wild, he’s closing the distance between you and pulling you into a tight hug. You exhale in relief and return the gesture with no hesitation. He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s inhaling your scent.

Something about this hurts. Your ribcage suddenly feels like a prison, and all you want is for your heart to be free. Why does it feel like something’s stabbing it?

“I’m sorry for asking to come over so late,” he whispers. “And for being a dick about Mark. It’s not my business.”

There’s a twist deep in your chest. You wonder if there’s truly anything left in there.

“It’s okay, Le.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.”

You move away from him, lightly grabbing his hand to lead him over to your couch. When you’re both seated, he rests his head on your shoulder. You reach up to play with his hair, and instinct you became familiar with when he needed comfort back when you two were messing around.

“She asked about you.” His fingers toy with yours, warm touch gently grazing your skin. “Really, I had no idea what to say. There isn’t much to say, you know? So, that’s what I said. I told her we’ve been friends for forever and…that’s it.”

“Technically not wrong.” You chuckle, but the ache within you only grows.

“I went to shower and when I got out, she was going through my phone. By the time I realized what she was doing, she’d already found more than enough to be pissed.”

“What was it?”

“Pictures. In our text conversations from like…almost a year ago. I get why she was upset, you know? But it’s not like they were recent. Or even in my camera roll, for fuck’s sake.” He shuffles a bit closer, his warmth pressing into you. “But I should’ve checked and made sure. Or something. So, I’m sorry someone else saw those, (Y/N).”

“Did I look good at least?” you joke.

“Oh, fuck off.” He laughs, shaking his head. “You always look good and you know it.”

You get a sudden, overwhelming urge to look at him. His words make your stomach turn, and you’re desperate to figure out what the hell is going on with you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He ponders for a moment. “I thought I’d be a little more upset, but the only thing I was really thinking about was coming to see you.”

Chenle sits up, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he takes you in. His gentle brown eyes trail over you, unrecognizable emotions swimming around in his irises. You find him still as extraordinary as ever. His features so sharp, lips perfectly full. You fight the craving to reach out and trace his jawline.

“It’s just…” he murmurs. “It just always comes back to you, doesn’t it?”

“Chenle…”

“It’s been so long,” he continues. “Since I’ve seen you like this.”

“We hung out all the time.”

“No. Not like this. I know why you did, but you got so distant from me. Didn’t you ever think about me? That whole time?” He wets his lips.

“How could you ask me that?” you breathe out. “I thought about you all the time, but you weren’t mine to think about.”

“When I thought of you, it used to hurt. I used to have to distract myself from you because it was wrong to want you when I had everything else.” His gaze flicks down to your lips, and you feel every ounce of you crumble to pieces.

“It’s not…wrong anymore,” you say.

His eyes flutter shut, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours. You let out a shaky breath against him, but quickly reciprocate what he gives you. All hesitation is out the window now, all thoughts of him being too upset at a moment like this fly from your brain.

It’s Chenle. He’s kissing you. This is familiar. Right, even.

“God, it’s been too long.” He reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing your skin. “Need you, baby. Never wanna lose you like that again.”

Your heart is beating so fast, you’re not exactly sure how to respond to that. The longer you take in every word leaving his mouth, the quicker you realize what’s happening to you.

You haven’t slept with Mark because you do have feelings for Chenle. It hits you like a freight train, and the fear sinks in only for a second before you slam your lips back to his. Being with him like this feels good, like nothing could go wrong.

The quietest moan slips from his mouth into yours, and just like it used to, heat floods your core. His hand slips beneath your shirt, his scalding touch trailing across your side before settling on the small of your back.

You pull away from him and gently push against his chest. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

“Need a distraction.” He swallows hard. “That’s what we are for each other right? She’s out of the picture, so I get to have you again?”

You shake your head. “Only when we’re both available. Not just you.”

“Did you fuck him?” Chenle tone drops, a dark hint of jealousy gracing those narrowed brown eyes. One of his hands drops down to your thigh, tracing along the hem of your shorts. “Is that why you don’t want me anymore? He’s better or something?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I—Chenle, I haven’t.”

Wetting his lips, his touch trails higher, his skin burning against yours in the best way. “Don’t you miss me? Or at least the way I made you feel? When’s the last time someone made you cum?”

He notices when your legs press together, desperate for any sort of friction between them. You’re fighting every urge you have, wanting nothing more than to have Chenle right here on your couch, but something holds you back.

Leaning closer, he hums lowly in your ear, “You know what I can do.” His lips press against the spot below your ear, slowly heading down until his tongue runs along your pulse.

“Damn it,” you groan, pushing him back. “Take your pants off.”

As you stand up to push your shorts and panties to the floor, he lifts his hips to push his sweats to down his legs. He reaches into his boxers and strokes himself slowly.

“C’mon, baby.” He smirks at you. “Sit on it.”

You straddle his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls his cock out. One hand grips your hip and he holds you above him.

“Do we need a condom?” he asks, gaze glazed with want.

“I haven’t slept with anyone,” you mutter, face heating up for more reasons than one.

“It was just…” he trails off and gulps. “You know. I’m clean.”

The idea of him with her is almost enough to snap you out of it, but the last thing you plan on doing is getting off his lap. You ignore the sting of your heart and instead trade it for the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate Chenle with no prep. Whining at the pain, you stop after a couple inches.

“S’okay, baby,” he encourages you. “Take it slow.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, lifting up before sinking back down to take a bit more of him than the last time. He breathes heavily, biting down on his bottom lip while his chest heaves.

“Just a little more.” Chenle slowly pulls you closer until he’s fully seated inside you.

The stretch has your legs shaking, whimpers escaping you as he whispers praises to you.

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Letting me fill this pretty pussy with my cock.”

Chenle tugs your shirt over your head, freeing your bare breasts. He lets out a small sound at the sight before leaning down to kiss them, teeth nipping and tongue flicking your nipple.

Unable to hold back anymore, you push him back harshly. His lips part as you grind, sweet moans escaping him at the same time yours do.

“So tight,” he groans. “You waited ‘cause you knew no one else could do this to you, huh?”

“Shut up,” you command him.

His eyebrows raise for the briefest moment, until you start bouncing on his cock. Wetness starts squelching around the two of you, aiding you in your quick movements on top of him.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” Chenle thrusts up to match you, hands trailing around your body to squeeze your ass harshly. A slap comes next, the sound resounding through the room.

Your hips jolt, thrown off your rhythm at the stinging sensation on your skin. Nails leaving angry, red crescent moons in his skin, you rock back and forth to stabilize yourself before continuing. The sound of your arousal would embarrass you under any other circumstances, but the fucked out expression on Chenle’s face is enough to keep you going.

You don’t hold back your moans, letting the needs of your body take over instead of whatever the hell is going on in your head. He feels so fucking good inside you, the rough slide of his length against your walls, the way he throbs with want for you. The twitch of his cock inside you has a knot tightening in your stomach.

“Look at me,” he says roughly.

You don’t bother listening, too focused on your own pleasure to justify stopping.

“I said fucking look at me.” He grabs your face, pulling you close so you're inches away from him, hooded, hazy brown eyes devouring you. “Keep fucking yourself on my cock.”

You let out a weak moan, legs aching as you continue, but you know you need more. Trying to grind down, you do whatever you can to get friction on your clit. Whines slip past your lips, with the mind-shattering high just out of reach.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” Chenle slaps your ass again.

“Close,” you practically whimper. “Touch me. Fuck, please.”

Immediately, he lets go of his harsh grip on your cheeks, reaching between you two and quickly finding your clit. Your nails scratch down his shoulders, leaving marks as his fast circles push you over the edge.

You scream out in pleasure, your vision blacking out as you’re swept up in your climax. Crumpling into him, you squirm on top of him until he wraps his arm around your waist, warm seed coating your insides.

His chest heaves, lips parting as he rests his head back on the couch cushion. He gulps and strokes your hair while still slowly rocking up into you. You finally work up the energy to get off of him, but he holds you down.

“No,” he murmurs, breathless. “Not yet. Not done.”

Your body heats all over again, the idea of another round sends tingle down your spine. Goosebumps form on your skin, but you listen. Something has to make up for the lost time between you two.

“Need you again.” He nips where your neck and shoulder connects. “Can I take you to your room?”

You nod, unable to speak. He lifts you deftly from the couch, carefully walking over to your room like he’s done hundreds of times before. You hold onto him desperately, never wanting to let him go for more reasons than one.

As soon as you’re both on your bed, he’s already beginning to thrust again. You dig your nails into his back, but he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head.

“Be good,” he warns, filling you up over and over, ever so slowly. “Little pussy’s so greedy, sucking me in like this.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, the weight of him on top of you making you whine until your throat’s raw.

Every nerve-ending is on edge from your previous high, skin tingling and burning wherever his fingers trace shapes on you. You can barely keep your eyes open, the gentle brush of his chest against yours has your weak-minded state reading into this much more than you should.

If you could form actual words, you’d probably accidentally confess to him. He works through his own overstimulation, his jaw clenched tightly as he works your body expertly.

“I missed you,” he whispers, dipping his head down to nip along your neck. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” you force out, barely able to muster up the words. “God, yes.”

He hums, tonguing along the pulse in your neck. “You didn’t fuck him ‘cause he can’t make you feel like this, can he?”

You want to be mad at him for bringing Mark up at a time like this, but his words only make you shiver. He’s right. You can’t be mad at him when he’s right, and certainly not when your brain is fuzzy with the pleasure of his cock rubbing so, so slowly against your inner walls. Nobody could ever fill you like Chenle does.

“Answer me.” He thrusts particularly hard, jolting you up the mattress.

“Fuck, he can’t make me feel like you do.” You’re not entirely sure if your words are coherent, but Chenle seems satisfied by what you said.

“And you’d better remember that, too.” He releases your wrists and reaches between you two, resuming circles on your clit. “Could fuck you all night. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting your cunt filled with my cum as many times as you can handle?”

You wrap your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close, the angle allowing him slightly deeper inside you. Between the delicious stretch of your walls and the uniform, skilled rubbing on your sensitive bud, your body shudders uncontrollably. Your back arches and your hands fly to his hair, loud, obscene moans pouring from your lips.

Chenle’s thrusts pick up as he helps you ride out your high, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to keep his steady pace. He slows to a stop, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, he kisses you, tongue already slipping past your lips to dominate your mouth the same way he’s dominated the rest of you.

“Think you can get on all fours for me?” he asks, his breath fanning across your face.

“Again?”

“Please, baby, I’m close already, just need a little more.” He presses kisses on your cheeks and the tip of your nose. “I need it so bad.”

You nod, shakily removing your legs from around his waist. He guides you to the position he wants, your head resting on the mattress as he squeezes your ass.

“You’re still so fucking wet,” he groans, a slap resonating around the room. “Might wanna hold on, pretty girl. I’m not going easy on you.”

Despite being an absolute rag doll, you clench in excitement at the idea of having him inside you again. You push back toward him, urging him to fuck you. He uses his knee to nudge your legs apart, and even though they’re shaking, you plan on letting him pound into you until they fucking give out.

He runs the head up and down your folds, switching between barely pushing his tip inside and tapping it on your clit.

“God, I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Chenle growls, and the next thing you know, he’s thrusting inside you with as much force as he can. You scream, gripping onto the sheets and biting down on a pillow to attempt to silence yourself.

With all the stimulation, you feel constantly on the edge of another orgasm. His hips slap against your ass, the clapping sounds emphasizing your pleasure. Squelches of wetness float around too, the stickiness dripping down your thighs onto the bed the longer he has you in this position.

He shifts slightly so his balls smack your twitching clit with every thrust. You’re barely able to think straight, and you’re half-sure you’re drooling, but Chenle slams you into your third orgasm of the night rather easily. Your legs threaten to buckle, and he loops his arm around you to keep you up.

After a couple more thrusts, he moans loudly and spills deep inside you, chest heaving at the effort. Both of you wait in silence for a few moments, him to regain composure and you to remember how to breathe. He gently pulls out of you, turning you to drop your back down on the mattress. Once he gets out of bed, he stops in front of you and pulls you to the edge by your ankles. Nudging your legs apart, he sinks down to his knees.

“What are you doing?” you ask, rising up to your shaky elbows.

“Need a taste,” he says, mesmerized by the mess leaking out of your entrance. Swiping some of it up on his finger, he offers it to you. “Taste us, pretty girl. We’re so good together.”

You lean closer and wrap your lips around him, giving a harsh suck before you release him.

“God, baby, your pussy is so perfect when you’re leaking my cum.”

You’re not expecting him to move forward and flatten his tongue against your core. He holds your hips down to the bed, tentatively licking your slit. Without much effort from him, he’s reduced you to a mewling mess again, core throbbing with sensitivity even when he barely touches you. Your arms immediately give out, slumping you back onto the sheets as he works your core with his tongue.

It’s odd how much the idea of him eating you out when he came inside you turns you on. As limp as your body is, you relish in all of the pleasure he’s willing to give you. His tongue dances around your slit, alternating between slipping it between your folds and flicking your clit. You lazily tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough for him to moan against you.

Your hips jerk when his lips wrap around your bud, and next thing you know, his hands hold you down. You call out his name, pulling with the grip you have on his hair to tell him you’re much too sensitive to continue.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, blowing cold air on you. “Just a little bit more, okay? One more time.”

And then he’s back at the apex of your thighs, working much faster and harsher with his movements to get you to the edge faster. You shatter all over again, a mantra of noises passing by your lips as your thighs clench around his head.

You must actually black out for a moment, because when you come to, Chenle has pulled away from your core, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression equally as exhausted as yours.

He grabs a towel to clean you up, but both of you are beyond tired from all the activity. You shift up on your bed, not bothering to say anything else to him as you slide beneath your blanket. When you and Chenle did things before, he always stayed. He always pulled you into his chest and whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep.

You’re not sure if that will be the case today.

Except he does. He carefully crawls into bed next to you, turning you toward him and pulling you to him. Kissing the top of your head, he taps his fingers against your arm.

“I really missed you,” he says.

“Me, too.” You nod, but something makes your heart twist in your chest.

“Can I be honest for a second?”

“Of course.”

“I knew the pictures were there,” he whispers. “Maybe it’s shitty, but I couldn’t delete them. Sometimes, I looked back at our old conversations—not the sexual ones—and just…thought of you. I couldn’t do anything to erase you and what we did from my life. I didn’t want to.”

You wonder if that’s his idea of a confession. If he’s trying to tell you he has unresolved feelings for you.

“Then why did you stay with her?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Everyone liked her. My mom told me she thought I’d end up marrying her. She obviously didn’t know about…this. But I couldn’t fucking stop, (Y/N). Everything came back to you.”

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” you offer. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Chenle takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s talk in the morning.”

You and Chenle wake at the same time, to the sound of his phone on the bedside table. Groaning, you massage your forehead and turn away from him. When he answers it, your interest is piqued.

“Hey.” Sleep still weighs on his voice, making it scratchy. “No, I’m not at home.”

There’s a pause, and the vague sound of the other person responding makes your heart twist violently in your chest. It’s her.

“Would you stop jumping to conclusions? I’m at Jisung’s.” Irritation laces in his tone.

You should say something. Let her know somehow that he’s lying, but you don’t. You stay silent in your hurt and wait to see what he could possibly do next.

“Yeah, forgive me for not wanting to be alone after what happened.” Chenle scoffs and runs his fingers through his hair. A sigh follows. “Damn it, I told you that was done. I’m sorry you saw those, okay? They’re from…over a year ago. It didn’t seem relevant to bring it up, and she’s still my friend, so.”

Friend. You almost laugh out loud, but again, you don’t say a word.

“Yeah, of course. Where?”

Another pause from Chenle.

“Yeah, I’ll stop by my house and then I’ll be over there. I’ll see you in half an hour?”

Your heart feels like it’s being shredded into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Thank you.” He sighs, his body deflating. “I’m so sorry for all of this, you know that, right? I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Tears sting your eyes, and as soon as he hangs up the phone, he hops up to go grab his clothes from the living room. You sit up in your bed, blanket clutched to your chest as you watch him scramble to get dressed.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I have to go,” he says, walking back into your room. Leaning in, he attempts to press a kiss to your lips. You turn away from him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“Where are you going?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

“She…She wants to talk it out. And I have to go. You understand why, right?” His eyes widen as he scans over your face.

When you say nothing, he sighs.

“I’ll text you later. You can answer or not. Whatever you want to do.” He walks toward the door to your bedroom, but you stop him when he reaches the threshold.

Your eyes sting, your body’s sore, and all you wanted was to tell him the truth this morning. Now it’s clear to you—he’ll never feel the same way for you. He’ll drop anything and everything—you included—if it meant getting her back.

“Chenle.”

He stops, turning to you.

“She’s going to make you choose,” you warn him. “Between her and me.”

Chenle pauses, fingertips gripping the frame. “I know.”

With that, you have nothing else to say, and he wouldn’t have time to hear it anyway. He leaves without another word to you, and when he’s far enough away, your tears finally fall. You want to scream and yell, but your throat is too raw from the long night before to even attempt it.

[echobx]

Twin Flame 4 - pervy!bsf!JJ Maybank × pervy!bsf!fem!reader

summary: y/n and JJ nearly get found out, and they are both separately figuring out what they feel for each other

word count: 3.3k

warnings: oral (male receiving), ball play, fingering, emotional conflicts (?), y/n battling jealousy

author's note: I accidentally wrote reader to be a microlabel of aromaticism. It was not my intial intention but now I'm embracing it. the romantic attraction is called quoiromantic and it's described as not being able to differentiate between romantic and platonic love and therefore being unsure if one ever has experienced romantic attraction at all. This will still end in a way that we'll all be happy, so don't be scared. And also, I think we should all embrace to be a little more inclusive, even if it starts with an accident.

series masterlist ♡ part 1 ♡ part 2 ♡ part 3

   You had talked to Sarah, in secret, knowing she wouldn't tell anyone, but you still hadn't mentioned JJ in it all. She explained the feelings part to you, the dizziness, the warmth, the increased loneliness when John B wasn't with her, the way her heart skipped when he smiled at her, how waking up next time made every day seem a little brighter. 

   It gave you not much more clarity, though. You had always felt similarly towards JJ, he was your best friend after all. The uncertainty towards the whole thing made you not want to think or talk about it ever again. 

   Especially not when all you wanted to do was wake JJ by sucking him off. It wasn't uncommon for him to wake up with a boner anyway, especially not when you spent the night over. And maybe the fact that no one knew about your situation made it even better, because if they did, they would want you to act couple-y, and you were against that entirely. You weren't made to hold hands while walking through a park or over the beach. You weren't made to look at each other with love sick eyes and constant smiles plastered over your face. 

   No, you were made to give your best friend the head of his life as he slowly gained consciousness. Bopping your head and swirling your tongue, while your hand stroked the rest of his length, not being able to fit all of him unless you forced yourself to. Sometimes, when he got really whiny, without waking up still, you kissed and licked his balls while your hand took care of his cock. 

   The first time you had done it, he had woken up almost instantly, but now, he was better at keeping himself half asleep until he nutted. It wasn't like he missed much by not watching you, after all, you basically blew him just as much as he ate you out. 

   Sex was the only thing the two of you were good at together, and the friends part, but mainly sex. The shift from friends who fuck to fuck buddies that are also friends happened pretty drastically after that day at the lagoon. Neither of you complained, as your sex drives were at similar high levels. 

   “Shit, right there, baby,” JJ moaned, his morning voice was raspy, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

   “JJ! Get up! We said we'd go fishing!” John B pounded against the door, and you looked up at JJ with furrowed brows, yet you continued to torture him with your perfect lips and throat. 

   “Fuck!” he hissed and leaned up, putting his weight on his elbows. “Gimme ten, I'll meet you outside.” 

   “Fine, but be quick about it. We still gotta go and pick y/n up,” JB yelled through the door, and you paused your actions. How could you forget about that? And how would you be able to make it home in time and still have time left to shower and change so you wouldn't smell like sex all day long. 

   “You wanna keep going?” JJ quirked his brow, and you sucked him off harsher, fastening your pace and hollowing your cheeks until he cursed. His legs started to tremble, and he shot his salty cum down your throat. 

   “Gonna repay you later,” he panted, lying back while you grabbed the water bottle next to his bed and washed down the rest of him inside your mouth. 

   “I have to go.” Hastily you put your clothes back on, unable to find your second sock and your bra, but that didn't matter anyway, you could pick them up next time. 

   “We could just let him know,” JJ sighed, still fighting to come down from his high. 

   “No. They'll ask why we aren't together, and I don't want to explain to them that it's not like that. They wouldn't get it,” you argued while tying your shoes. 

   “Forgot about that,” JJ murmured, as if he suddenly had a different opinion on it than you. 

   “Where did he park?” you asked and JJ got up to check the windows, first in his own room, then the bathroom and lastly the living room before walking back to you.

   “Take the bathroom. I'll stall him some more,” JJ sighed, and you nodded, but before you could steal yourself away he pulled you into him, kissing you deeply and making your head spin. “Be safe, all right.” 

   “See you in twenty,” you nodded and went to climb out of the bathroom window. 

   JJ wasn't a fan of you rather running away from him than facing the truth, but he couldn't blame you either. If it had been anyone but you, he would've run too. But it wasn't, and he was sure that it could work. He knew he could actually fall for you, more than just the crush he had started to develop. He knew he could be everything you wanted and needed. 

   He wished to just be honest with his friends, even if they wouldn't get it, because not being able to touch you all day long was taking a toll on him. Simply placing his arm over your shoulders wasn't enough. He wanted you in his lap while sharing a blunt, being allowed to play with the strings of your swimsuit, kissing your neck and lips and most of all admiring your body without anyone giving him a side eye for it. 

   When he walked out of his house to meet John B, his best friend groaned. 

   “That was twenty. You know, you don't gotta jerk off every fucking morning, right?” 

   “Fuck off,” JJ grumbled and got into the bus. The heavy weed smell of the bus was drowning out the last bit of your scent that he still had in his nose, and it annoyed him. He wanted you to be his, visible to everyone, and not just in private. 

   “Who crumbled your cookies?” John B huffed while starting the engine. 

   “Just not in the mood today. Let's just go,” JJ said while turning to look out the window. He couldn't really find anything truly enjoyable anymore unless you were with him. You were like a sickness to his brain and heart, one he truly couldn't shake even if he tried to. 

   Your house appeared in front of him, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe this was how soldiers felt when they came back from war and saw their loved ones for the first time in years,” he thought to himself, while John B parked. 

   “I'm gonna go get her,” JJ jumped out of the bus before John B could argue with him over it. He strolled over to your bedroom window, pulling it open and climbing inside without waiting for you to allow him too. He could hear the water running in the shower and made his way to the bathroom. 

   Leaning against the door frame, he watched you, the clear glass door leaving little to the imagination as you fingered yourself under the stream of hot water. He was enthralled by you, how your head fell back as you came, moaning his name, always his. 

   You jumped when you opened the shower door to see him standing there. “Jesus fucking Christ, JJ!” 

   “Do your fingers even reach that high?” he smirked. 

   “High enough,” you stuck out your tongue, and he pulled you closer, grasping your chin and tilting your head back to kiss you. 

   “Got me all fucked up over here. Might need to use those pretty lips again,” JJ whispered against your lips before letting go of you. 

   “Is he waiting outside?” you asked, finally taking a towel and wrapping yourself up to dry. 

   “Yeah, I should go back out asap so he doesn't try to come in here too,” he mumbled. 

   “I need at least five more minutes,” you told him while roughly drying off your hair with an old shirt. 

   “I can fuck you in two,” JJ rasped into your ear, pulling your back flush against his chest, his hands firm on your hips. 

   “That would render my shower useless,” you sighed. 

   “How so?” 

   “I don't want to smell like sex all day long,” you complained softly. 

   “I love when you smell like sex. Literally the best smell in the world. They should make it into perfume,” JJ chuckled and kissed your cheek before stepping away and walking back towards the window. “Five minutes, princess.” 

   The day went smoothly, JJ managed to stay far enough away from you so it wouldn't be questionable, but also not too far, to not raise suspicion that you were fighting again. Both sides of the spectrum weren't to his or your favor. 

   The tricky part came later that night, when Kiara drunkenly proposed a game of Truth or Dare. 

   “Pleaseeeee,” she cried out and put her best puppy face on to convince you to play, but you couldn't resist her, just as much as the rest of your friends could. 

   “Fine. Truth,” you agreed, and she giggled. 

   “Last time you masturbated,” Kie hiccuped. 

   “This morning, in the shower,” you admitted freely. There wasn't much you were embarrassed about, and as long as the questions didn't get too specific, you could even talk about JJ without anyone noticing.

   “Truth or Dare, Pope,” you asked and when he chose dare, you made him shotgun a beer. 

   The game went on for a while. JJ had to talk about his favorite blowjob, and he happily shared the time you sucked him off while he was playing some type of video game while Pope and John B had been oblivious on the other sides of their screens. Maybe you shouldn't have grinned as much over it, after all he had done his best to divert their questions over the girl who'd done it, and you shouldn't ruin it for the both of you. 

   But the lightness was shifting as soon as Kie dared you to kiss JJ. You wanted to opt for a quick peck, nothing to draw any attention, but JJ was JJ. His tongue was chasing your own before you could remember why you really shouldn't be doing this while your friends were watching. 

   “Wow, okay. Maybe next time take it a bit slower, J,” Sarah laughed. 

   “Yeah,” you mumbled, sitting back down and trying to sort your head out. 

   “Who's next?” JJ asked, a proud grin on his face. 

   “Truth or Dare, J,” John B smirked devilishly. 

   “Truth,” JJ nodded. 

   “Who was with you this morning?” 

   “No one,” JJ shrugged, and it was almost believable. 

   “You had a bra lying in your hallway,” John B snorted a laugh. 

   “I haven't cleaned up in a while. Must belong to one of those tinder dates,” JJ shrugged. 

   “That makes no sense. Do you know how expensive bras are?” Kiara spoke up, pulling you into her side. “Tell’m how fucking expensive that shit is, y/n.”

   “Very expensive,” you nodded, avoiding his eyes, in fear anyone of them would draw a connection that you rather kept hidden. 

   “I'm telling you, I was alone. And if she doesn't want her bra back, that's not my fault,” JJ shrugged and kept on with the game, even though the rest of your friends truly weren't convinced. 

   “Do you have any cool scars?” Cleo asked you because you had yet again chosen Truth. After having to kiss JJ, you really didn't want to risk another dare. 

   “No, not really,” you shook your head, but before you could move on JJ spoke up. 

   “Don't you have that one that looks like half a heart, right next to your left tit?” 

   “And how would you know that?” John B raised both eyebrows and JJ knew he fucked up. 

   “Uh… we grew up together. She's had that for ages. Right?” JJ looked at you, pleading for you to say anything, but you just stared at him. “You know what, I'm completely shit-faced, I'm prolly confusing that with, uhm… what's her name,” he snapped his fingers four times, “Polly, from drama club.” 

   “You hooked up with Drama Polly?” Pope snorted. 

   “Yeah,” JJ shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure that he had in the past, but Polly really wasn't ugly or mean, so he probably had at some point. His standards weren't too high when it came to it. 

   You didn't like to think about JJ having sex with other people, you'd never been particularly fond of it, but now it was even worse. When you thought about it, you felt like someone was pulling on every one of your limbs, stretching you to the limit of your capacity. It wasn't even something you thought you could enjoy watching. Maybe if you could be sure that he was still all yours, and didn't actually desire the other person, but you couldn't be sure of it and talking to him would make him think that you were in love with him. Something you didn't want him to think because you didn't know if it was true. 

   “Earth to y/n?” Cleo waved her hand in front of your face, and you snapped out of your thoughts. Clearing your throat and smiling at your friends as if nothing had happened. Just JJ looked at you for a moment longer than needed, concerned where your mind had taken you. 

   “Is it my turn?” you asked sweetly, and they laughed. 

   “You gotta pick someone?” Cleo raised her brow at you and you nodded. 

   “Yes, right, my bad,” you muttered and moved on, leaving the daunting thoughts at the back of your mind to haunt you later. 

   “I dare you to show me the last picture in your camera roll,” Kiara hollered, and JJ shook his head. 

   “Not happening.” 

   “Now we just wanna see it even more,” Sarah pouted, but you didn't pay much mind to it. You knew it was probably the latest dick pic he had intended to send you but chosen not to. 

   “It's nothing I should show anybody. Not my place to,” JJ shrugged and picked up his can, taking a big gulp of beer. 

   “Why?” she leaned forward, and John B had to hold her back so she wouldn't tumble over and land face first in the dirt. 

   “Because it's not appropriate, or of me,” JJ hissed back at her, and you furrowed your brows. You couldn't remember having sent him anything recently. Was he seeing other people? Was that why he was so scared to show them? To show you?

   “You know we can keep a secret,” you tilted your head to the side, jealousy was getting the better of you even though you truly didn't understand why. 

   “I don't think you would want to see it, or want me to show it to anyone,” JJ stared at you, piercing your soul in an unwavering glare. But you were too consumed by the thought that he could have slept, or even just thought about sleeping with, someone who wasn't you. 

   “I think we can take it,” Kie giggled. 

   “Don't say I didn't warn you,” JJ looked at you, almost apologetic, while taking out his phone and handing it over to you. His passcode was still the same as ever, your birthday. Your fingers swiped over the screen and when you saw the picture he had taken, you wanted to throw his phone into the ocean, never to be found again. 

   You felt yourself go crimson at it. The visual of you kissing his balls while your hand was wrapped around his cock. Maybe the only condolences you got was when Kie ripped the phone from your hands and asked who it was. Perhaps, with the slightest chance in the world, they wouldn't be able to tell. Your face was mainly hidden, the only thing that could give you away was the color of your finger nails. A bright neon green. 

   “Seriously, dude? That's from this morning!” John B exclaimed. “You fuckin’ liar. I knew there was someone in there!” You balled your hands, hiding your nails on the inside of your palms, digging crescent shapes into the soft flesh. 

   “Distasteful,” Pope shook his head and handed the phone back to JJ. 

   “How'd you smuggle her out? Through a window? Or did you tell her to wait until we were gone?” John B bludgeoned, and you felt like you wanted to go up in flames. Only Cleo kept her focus on you, and you really didn't like it at all. 

   “Is anyone cold? I feel cold,” you mumbled before getting up and walking inside, not waiting for a reply. 

   “Is it you?” Cleo whispered as soon as she stepped into the bedroom where you had sat down, JJ’s long sleeve shirt pulled over your body in the hopes to find some warmth and tranquility. 

   “Why would it be me?” you smiled at her, but you knew it wasn't convincing. 

   “Your hands, and you've been acting weird all day,” she shrugged, sitting down by your side. 

   “I don't know what you mean.” Lying was easy, but not convincing. Not this time. 

   “I’m not gonna tell them. But maybe you should start being more honest, not just with all of us,” she sighed, putting her arm over your shoulders. “There's nothing unusual about falling in love with your best friend.” 

   “I'm not in love,” you shook your head. 

   “That's okay too.”

   “How do you know you love Pope?” you broke out and she smiled. 

   “He’s smart and funny and kind,” Cleo went on and on about all of Pope's incredible qualities and how she really didn't mean to fall in love with anyone, and yet she hadn't been able to deny it when it did happen. 

   “I'm not sure how you can say that this, all of it, describes your love for him when I've always felt like that towards my friends. Maybe not as strong, but it's the same concept,” you explained. 

   “Have you talked to him about that?” 

   “Not really. We don't talk much about feelings. I don't want to. Why would I destroy perfectly good sex and an amazing friendship with the idea that maybe I could love him more than I already do. I grew up with him, I know every little detail about him. How can I not love him like I love John B or you or Kie or any of them. You're all my friends,” you explained quietly. 

   “Yeah, but you can't picture yourself making out with Pope or John B, right?” she smiled. 

   “That's different, they are both in relationships and not my type,” you argued. 

   “And if JJ was in a relationship?” 

   “I'd miss the sex, but he's still my best friend,” you shrugged. 

   “What if his new partner was against you being his best friend? Not everyone likes the idea of someone so close to their partner that they pose a threat.” 

   “Then I'd tell him to find someone else. Friends are for life. Love rarely lasts,” you were sure of it. Your life had never proposed anything less than it as the truth. First, JJ’s mom ran off, then John B’s; your dad had an affair when you were seven, your mom when you were ten, since then they had stayed together, without any side quests for all you knew, but they were still not happy. 

   “And what if you get both? A best friend who loves you?” Cleo squeezed you a bit before letting loose again. 

   “That seems rare. And what if one falls out of love with the other? Then you lose your friend and your partner,” you explained, and she chuckled. 

   “You should really have a talk with him about this. I'll keep your secret.” Then she got up and left you alone, sitting by yourself and wondering what could be if the world was built with unicorns and rainbows in mind, instead of reality. 

read part 5 here

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24

[nina-renmen]

You’re Mine

Yandere Price x black reader soulmate au pt. 1

Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Y/n joins team 141 in her early/mid twenties. But upon figuring out her captain is her soulmate she attempts to avoid him, little does she know she’s already caught prices eye. And soulmate or not he will have her.

Price’s eyebrows narrowed. His gaze locked onto your file. Name: y/n l/n, code name: Cobra.

Price huffed, What did you do to get a name like that? You didn’t look very threatening from your picture. At first glance Price tossed your file to the side. But Laswell insisted, saying you were her best soldier. ‘Ah….thats why.’ Price thought to himself. You were known for strangling your own squad when they attempted to leak information to the Russians, hence the name Cobra. (Cobras are cannibals, they kill their own kind)

You enrolled in the army at 19 and became a Sergent just last year. You excelled in hand to hand combat and were a sniper, not bad. It seemed you’re the best with stealth missions. You could have done a million other things but you chose this…why? Whatever it was, price didn’t dwell on it. Closing your file his thumb ran across the text that was imprinted on his forearm. The bold black text that his eyes had read over hundreds of thousands of times still gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

‘You should smile more…it’s cute.’

He always wondered what setting it would be in. What would he say after? He wondered what you’d look like. Would you be older? Younger? Or maybe the same age.

A knock at the door interrupted him from his thoughts. The door opening before he could say anything meaning that it was Laswell. And sure enough, it was.

Price looked up from his desk. A nod coming from him as a greeting. The older woman placing a file on his desk. “There’s another mission. Cobra will join you at the sight.” Kate spoke as Price stood up with a nod as he looked through the information.

“I’ll tell the team.”

The helicopter was loud, but you’d gotten used to it enough to block it out. Standing up, y/n rolled her shoulder, relieving herself of the tension. As she grabbed her weapon y/n left the helicopter after giving the pilot a pat on the shoulder as a quick ‘thanks’.

Y/n only recognized one of the men that were in a small group in front of her. Soap.

The man’s eyes seem to light up at the sight of her. He gave her a strong pat on the back as he welcomed her. “Aye lass, didn’t think you’d get here so quickly!” Soap exclaimed with a grin to which y/n only nodded. Johnny was well aware that y/n wasn’t much of a talker, she preferred to keep quiet.

Price’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, her expression was blank but her hold on her weapon was tight. She must not like new changes.

Price went over the plan once more. It was supposed to be a quick mission. In and out.

But unfortunately it was the exact opposite. The mission itself took about two hours to complete. Y/n was soaked in blood afterwards. She shifted almost uncomfortably in her gear.

“Good job. You did well.” Price spoke as he came up behind y/n, patting her back. “Proud of ya, Sweetheart”

Y/n’s eyes widened, she was facing soap at the time. The words on her lower abdomen burned, fully setting into her skin. Soap knew that look, he’d spent three years training with y/n before they got separated into different teams.

Y/n only nodded, turning away as she began walking towards the helicopter. Soap immediately following after her trail. “What the hell was that look?” Soap whispered shouted as they both stepped into the helicopter.

“He said it….” Y/n mumbled as she sat down. She looked over at soap, disturbed. “You’re not saying he’s.” Soap trailed off as y/n nodded. “Bloody hell lass….” Soap grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know-now shut up. They’re coming.” Y/n said through clenched teeth. They both sat still, acting normal. Y/n’s leg bouncing as her upper body sat still in the seat. Ghost and Gaz sat across from her while Price began to talk with he pilot.

Soap leaned over to her. Whispering, “You need to tell him-“

“Like hell I will.” Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyebrows furrowed. A deep frown carved on her face.

“What are you two squabbling about?” Price asked, cutting the both of you off. Y/n stayed quiet, turning her head away from the captain leaving Soap to speak up. “Nothin sir.” Soap piped up.

“Not much of a talker?” Price’s gaze was locked onto you.

“She has anxiety!” Soap exclaimed louder than he should have drawing attention of the other two men. “Y-yeah….she’s anxious around new people. Isn’t that right lass?” Soap elbowed Y/n making her nod slowly. Soap paled a bit when y/n glared at him.

“Alright…..if you say so.” Price said, eyeing up Y/n almost suspiciously before leaning back into his seat ‘At least they’re getting along.’

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[arogaba]

This legacy is based on the same one by @sweetlysimss who very graciously gave me permission to try my hand at converting the challenge for TS3. It's not perfect but I tried my best to stick to the original rules and try and make it fun!

Tag: #nsbxbpr should be fine still or @ me if you do try this out!

Rules:

This challenge can be played with vanilla, banilla, or berry sims

As per the challenges this is based on, the romance options are a mix between those in the BPR or NSB, allowing  you to choose which you’d like (or mix them up if you wish!)

There is an optional generational challenge to paint/take a photo of your heir for every generation

The generational requirements do not need to be strictly followed/can be changed as you see fit - the important thing is to have fun!

Generation 1: White

You come from a long line of privileged sims. Life was easy for you and you never wanted for nothing. Despite the easy life, you also felt constricted, unable to be yourself. Now that you’re a young adult, you decide to break free from your parents and pursue your own dreams. Packing your bags, and taking enough money to get by with you, you run away to the old, rundown, farmhouse that the only grandparent you cared for left you in the will. Starting off with nearly nothing to your name, you decide to pursue the hobby you were never allowed to chase to its extent: painting. Due to your upbringing, you find it difficult to let other sims in and may come across as rude sometimes. What you really need is that one special sim to make you feel like it’s all worth it. Slowly but surely, as the years go by, your own family starts to grow, but life is not without its ups and downs…

Recommended traits: artistic, snob, grumpy, hopeless romantic

Career: none; make money through your paintings, fishing, and harvestables

Move into your grandparent’s old house. Must be fairly basic/rustic (the size of the house/lot is up to you)

Max the painting, gardening, and logic skills

Have multiple romantic interests throughout your life, but do not settle permanently with any of them until after you have your first child.

Go on at least one date with a purple, pink, and/or a red sim

Have one child

Get married (does not have to be the parent of your child)

Become enemies with the other sims you did not end up with

Have one more child (can be adopted or an alien baby if you wish!)

Sell at least two masterpiece paintings

Have at least two animals in your household

Optional: raise one from its youngest lifestage all the way through to elder

Be good friends with all your children and animals

Become good friends with at least one grandchild

-

Generation 2: Purple/Pink/Red

Although not everyone would believe you, you would say you had a great childhood. You grew up sheltered but loved by your parents and sibling. From a young age, you had a great passion for reading and books, though all those days spent reading might have left you with a few unrealistic expectations about life. Despite everything, you are eager to see everything that life has to offer and a sudden once-in-a-lifetime trip might change your world forever…

Recommended traits: bookworm, computer whiz, great kisser, irresistible, family oriented

Career: writer

Max the painting and writing skills

Optional: master the charisma skill too

Shortly after you become a YA go to one of the WA worlds or travel to the future. Your time here winds up inspiring you for the rest of your life

Become a writer

Either become a genre specialist or write a book from every genre

Kiss at least five different sims in your life

Leave a sim at the alter (peach or yellow)

Must have had at least two children with this sim

Have a difficult relationship with at least one of your children after the separation from your ex-partner

Have at least 3 children with any other sim (or the sim you eventually marry)

Do not marry until you are an elder

The sim you marry must be yellow or peach (whichever was not the colour of your first spouse)

The sim you marry must be in the culinary career

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Generation 3: Peach/Yellow

It is fair to say that you grew up in quite a hectic household. The only person who spends time with you and truly understands you is your childhood best friend. The two have you been through thick and thin. They were initially drawn to you for your quiet nature, your inquisitive soul, and a passion for nature inherited from your grandparent. In your late teens, you start to notice those traits are working against you, causing others to call you “weird” or “different”, so you adapted. However, in the process of becoming this new version of yourself, you find yourself losing the one thing you ever held dead. Will you ever get your best friend back? Only time will tell…

Recommended traits: loner, shy, brooding, disciplined, athletic

Career: professional sports and then unemployed when you become an adult (though you can supplement your household funds with your collections)

Max the painting, athletic, and martial arts skills

As a child join the boy/girl scouts, and then join one of the afterschool clubs as a teenager

As a child meet your best friend in a different neighbourhood (orange or grey)

As a teen, never have any close friends except for your best friend and any of your grandparents if they are still alive

As a teen, date your childhood best friend

As a young adult, you decide to change your life around and become the social, popular sim you’ve always wanted to be

Join the professional sports career

You and your best friend begin to drift apart and eventually separate

Not long after they leave, you realise you are pregnant

You date around but nothing lasts

Complete one or more of the following collections: metals, gems, insects, fish, or plants

Do not have a good relationship with your child until they are a teenager

After becoming an adult, quit your career in sports but continue to make money by selling your collections

As an adult, reconcile with your childhood best friend

Optional: have one more child

Get married

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Generation 4: Orange/Grey

Unlike your parents, you are far more practical when it comes to your life choices - or so you like to claim. After getting interested in your grandparent’s large book collection, you become interested in the occult, in particular witches. A mysterious book leads you to become a witch accidentally and soon strange things start to happen. Before you know it your great-grandparent has come back from the dead! In flesh and blood! How on Earth did that happen? As you begin to figure things out for yourself, a mysterious stranger takes an interest in your so called necromancy…

Recommended traits: bookworm, supernatural fan, artistic, night owl, gatherer

Career: fortune telling (you can supplement your household funds by selling potions/ingredients)

Max the painting and alchemy skills

Get a job in the fortune telling career

Date three sims but never get serious with any of them

One of these sims lead to you becoming a witch

Create every potion

Bring back your great-grandparent (up to you how this is done - you can cheat or use any of the methods in game)

Become at least good friends with them

Your necromancy catches the interest of a local doctor (yellow or purple) and you fall in love

Have at least five children together

Teach all your children their skills

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Generation 5: Purple/Yellow

The world has so many beautiful sights to offer! You can’t wait to paint them, photograph them, or sculpt them! Your life seems to be going perfectly until one day it isn’t. One day you wake up questioning yourself, your career, even your partner! Don’t you deserve better? Of course you do! You decide to switch your life around first thing in the morning. but was it really the right choice to make?

Recommended traits: artistic, avant garde, good, excitable, savvy sculptor, photographer’s eye

Career: painter or sculptor

Max the painting skill, plus the sculpting and/or photography skills

Go to university and achieve a fine arts degree

Be enemies with at least one sibling

Start a relationship with a former classmate (orange or green)

Have at least one child

After becoming an adult, a midlife crisis hits you hard

Quit your job

End the relationship with your partner or divorce them. Afterwards, you continue to have a good relationship with them

Find a new job and skill to focus on as an adult

start a new relationship with a different orange or green sim (whichever colour was not your first partner)

Have at least one child

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Generation 6: Orange/Green

Food is love. Crime is life. Doting parent and aspiring cook by day, criminal by night. Have you ever heard of a baking criminal? Neither have you, but someone should be the first. You have loved cooking and baking from a young age, though struggled to find your feet in the culinary career. When you leave at night your family think you are working at a swanky restaurant in town, little do they know you’re actually working for the most notorious criminal organisation in town! You prove yourself to be a hard worker but you know when to slack off and have fun. You make it a habit to visit every seasonal festival…with the bonus of getting some flirty looks from the cute sim in the crowds. 

Recommended traits: artistic, natural cook, kleptomaniac, party animal

Career: criminal

Max the painting, mixology, and cooking skills

Learn all recipes (can just stick the base game ones if you wish)

Meet your spouse (teal or pink) at one of the festivals and become instantly smitten

Have at least two children. Twins are recommended!

One child must have the good trait, one must have the evil trait

Make at least three enemies

Steal something worth at least 10,000 simoleons

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Generation 7: Teal/Pink

You and your sibling have been together through thick and thin. You are polar opposites but are as close as can be. From a young age, the two have you have always been competing with each other. Regrettably, they always seem to be the one in the spotlight, whereas you are left floundering in the dark. What you do excel at though is school and eventually, your career. You take a job in a rather niche area, one which raises a few eyebrows for certain, but you throw your whole heart into it. Let’s see who’s the best now!

Recommended traits: artistic, good or evil, family oriented, virtuoso

Be taught all your skills as a toddler

Be on the honour roll as a child and teenager

Have three good friends from school

As a young adult, join one of the ‘entertainer’ careers: musician, singer, acrobat, magician

Master at least one instrument

Fall in love with a fellow entertainer (blue or peach)

Partner must max the guitar

Have at least two children

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Generation 8: Blue/Peach

Music runs in your veins, you enjoy it but it is not where your true passion lies. As a young sim, you’ve always been into drama, stories, and theatre. However, the town you live in doesn’t take too kindly to people who are different, flamboyant, and attention-seeking. As a young adult, you move to a new town and throw yourself into the world of celebrities, drama, and paparazzi.

Recommended traits: charismatic, diva, dramatic, artistic

Career: film star

Master the painting and charisma skills

Join the drama club as a teenager

As a young adult, move to a new town and move to an apartment

Join the movie career

Marry a co-worker or neighbour who is also a celebrity (lavender or green)

Have at least one child

Divorce them once you surpass them as a celebrity

Become a vampire before you become a YA to preserve your looks

Have at least one child after your marriage

This child needs to have the white gen one hair colour

They will become your heir

Become a five star celebrity

Either ruin or maintain a good reputation

After becoming a five star celebrity, reconnect with your ex

Have a negative relationship with your sibling(s)

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Generation 9: Lavender/Green 

Phew! What a ride that was! Eight whole generations have come before you, all with their own unique interests, drama, and dreams. You, however, want to take it easy. You surround yourself with simple things, friends and family, and your garden. You love the earth and want to preserve it for future generations. What will the universe have in store for you next?

Recommended traits: friendly, good, green thumb, artistic, eco friendly 

Career: gardener or inventor - maybe even both!

Max the painting and gardening skills

Move to a small, simplistic house with a garden

Have at least three friends and three enemies

Throw a party at least once a season for your family and close friends 

Accept every invitation for a party

Marry one of your best friends (colour is up to you!)

Try and live an eco-friendly lifestyle

Adopt at least one child

Teach your children all their skills

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Being in a relationship with the Fontaine Women

characters: Charlotte / Furina / Lynette / Navia x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

genre: Mostly fluff, with a bit of comfort added in Navia’s part

a/n: I decided to leave out Clorinde bc I honestly don’t have any concrete headcanons about her, mostly because she was only there for like 3 scenes and said a total of like 2 sentences. I will write for her, but I still need time to read more about her.

I tried to keep this at least a bit headcanon-y, but you know me, so I decided to add a small scenario to every character’s part, mostly just one’s I felt served as good examples of how things might be and that I didn’t feel like I’d get the chance to write in the future.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Charlotte

With Charlotte, days on which nothing happened were rare. There always was some sort of event going on somewhere, and wherever it was, the journalist wasn’t far away, dragging you along with her. But just because you were there for work, didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy yourselves, especially with someone as energetic as her.

Trying to hold secrets from her, be they good or bad, quickly proved to be futile. She was a Journalist after all, so slowly digging up information to eventually figure out the truth was part of her being. That being said, getting informations through investigating always felt more rewarding to her than getting them served on a silver platter, so it quickly became routine between the two of you to give each other only a few hints instead of normally announcing news… something that, to the misfortune of others around you, quickly also seeped into your conversation with your friends and family.

“‘Man trips and falls down stairs at the opera house’? No, why would anyone read an article when they get all of the information via the headline?”, you suggested before quickly discarding your idea, causing Charlotte to sink further into her thoughts.

“Ooh, how about ‘Tragic accident at the opera house leaves man injured’?”, just as quickly as the words left her mouth, the two of you gave each other an energetic high-five before Charlotte continued to map the article out loud, only for a weird feeling to slowly wash over you… as if there was something important you were forgetting.

“Isn’t today the premier of that thriller you wanted to write an article about?”, you asked, only for Charlotte to stop talking in the middle of her sentence, her eyes widening as she quickly glanced towards the clock.

“You’re right! These clothes should be good enough for the opera house right? Ah, who am I kidding? Nobody cares!”, words began shooting out of her mouth in a panic as she grabbed you by the wrist and started dragging you towards the Aquabus, pen and notebook in her other hand.

…Somehow, be it by the grace of your Archon or Charlotte’s insistence the Aquabus drove at twice its intended speed, the two of you managed to get there in time.

Furina

The Hydro Archon had an… interesting way of showing her affection. The performance she liked everyone thinking was the real her too fond of the dramatic to do so in a normal way while the real her was too easily flustered to go through with anything fancy. And so, it inevitably became your responsibility to initiate anything even slightly romantic.

Just because she was nervous however, didn’t mean Furina’d drop her usual act and with the way she behaved and talked whenever others were looking could easily fool people into thinking your dynamic was the other way around.

There weren’t many moments in which the two of you had the chance to be alone in public, with the Archon either surrounded by a few of the gardes or swarmed by the citizens of Fontaine. So when you wanted to visit your home in the countryside, Furina was quick to decide that she’d indulge you with her presence, choosing to keep silent about how she was happy to leave the city behind for a day.

If Furina’s uncharacteristic silence wasn’t enough to make you feel like there was something wrong, the look on her face would have made any doubts in your mind dissolve. Just as you had opened your mouth to say something however, you were interrupted by the feeling of something grabbing your hand, all the while the Archon's face was slowly painted red.

“Are you feeling fine Furina? Your face is-”, you were quick to tease, unable to hide your amusement as it was all written over your face. Furina however, did not look up, quickly cutting trying to cut you off, only for her own feelings to be betrayed by a crack in her voice.

“The sUN- I- Thanks for your concern, my dear companion, but there’s no need to worry. I’m fine, just a bit warm, the sun is scorching hot today after all”, she quickly stuttered out before putting on her act once again, hiding her face by looking away from you, only to quickly find herself engulfed in shadow as you put a parasol over her, greeting her with a smile when she finally looked back at you.

As the way to your destination was once again filled with silence, your eyes eventually landed on a hill covered in rainbow roses, causing you to quickly drag Furina from your actual path.

“Where are you going!?”, she managed to ask, only shy away for a moment when you suddenly shoved one of the roses in front of her face.

“Be careful when taking it, it’s really easy to prick oneself's on their thorns”, you spoke with a genuine smile, only for it to quickly contort into a teasing one when you saw her blush even further.

“I should have brought a better parasol, this one doesn’t seem to be working”, you joked, causing Furina to fire back with some sort of excuse. You didn’t care too much, the sight of her scrambling to regain her composure was too cute for you to do anything but silently observe it.

The rest of your journey was rather uneventful, as was your way back. What was of interest for many citizens of Fontaine however, was the rainbow rose their archon wore for the rest of the week 

Lynette

To call Lynette a romantic would have been enough to net yourself a serious defamation case. She wasn’t her brother, who did and said all kinds of embarrassing stuff while putting on a mask, so while the two of you may have been in a relationship, most normal people wouldn’t be able to tell. So while you shouldn’t expect to see her showing her love to you in broad daylight, that didn’t mean that you didn’t get any special treatment.

On days where there was nothing to do, it had gotten somewhat common for Lynette to come over to your place, using it as a place to recharge her batteries when there was too much going on at home. So as you silently sat on your couch, reading a novel you had recently bought, while Lynette laid next to you, with her head placed on your lap, eyes closed as she relished in the calm atmosphere, the sound of the door suddenly swinging open was enough to give you a small heart attack.

“Pardon the intrusion, but have you seen my dear siste-”, Lyney’s voice rang through the room before his gaze eventually landed on the two of you, eyes instantly widening. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know I was interrupting something.”

Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, and while you liked to think that it normally took quite a bit to get you to blush, you could feel your cheeks quickly heat up. Was it because of his tone, his smirk or some weird combination of both, you didn’t understand, all you knew being that Lynette’s brother always found a way to make you feel embarrassed about even the most boring scenes.

“Should we-”, you quickly looked down at Lynette and began to talk, only for her to quickly finish your sentence for you.

“‘Try catching up to him’? I don’t think that’s necessary”, she stated matter of factly, her eyes not opening for even a split second before continuing to hum to herself.

“It seemed like he was looking for you, maybe he was just worried where you were?”, you asked, quickly getting a response in the form of a shake of her head.

“I told him I was visiting you. If I had to take a guess I’d say he was just passing your home and decided to quickly mess with you.” Her explanation made more sense than you’d like to admit, it wouldn’t have been the first time he decided to do things simply to try and get some amusement out of your reactions. However, you didn’t like the way Lynette made it sound like getting a reaction out of you was something that required so little effort.

“Sure it wasn’t you he was trying to mess with?”, you asked teasingly, only for her to finally open her eyes as a small smile found its way onto her lips.

“More than certain, redcheeks.”

Navia

Navia had always been easy to get along with. She was intelligent, funny and could single handedly lighten up the mood in any room, possessing an amount of self-esteem that was charming without coming across as her being full of herself. To use her own words: Who wouldn’t treasure having a partner like her. And while there were times her work as leader of Spina di Rosula kept her too occupied to see you much, she made sure to use her time with you to the fullest.

Was it eating at the Hotel together once in a while, or going on a walk around Poisson and Fontaine, taking in what remained of its colorful landscape while simply chatting the day away. Whether the subject of your conversation held any importance or you simply joked around, didn’t matter. Having each other by your side was enough to make any day a good one in retrospect.

There was a time you used to fear visits to the cemetery with Navia. It wasn’t like you didn’t want her to be sad whenever you visited, it was her fathers grave after all, but seeing her knees grow weak as she tried her hardest to keep a brave look on her face made your heart sting as if it had been pierced with a knife. It had been that way each and every time, no matter if it had been a week after his death or two years… But not this time.

As the two of you arrived at the grave, you glanced over at Navia, fully preparing yourself for what you might witness once again, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Instead, you found her silently smiling to herself and as you followed her gaze, your eyes eventually landed on a pair of candles placed next to the grave, causing your lips to form into a smile as well.

“Looks like Silver and Melus were here before us”, you noted, only for her to shake her head in response.

“Melus told me he wouldn’t be able to visit the grave until later… And well, you know Silver. I doubt he’s the kind of guy to light candles.”

Callas the Unfaithful no more. You might not have known her father that much, only seeing him a couple of times, but you had no doubt that the one who raised Navia would never have murdered anyone for any reason. 

Before you had the chance to lose yourself in your thoughts even more however, you were brought back to the real world by Navia’s voice.

“You still have the flowers?”, she asked, only for you to carefully grab them from your bag and present them to her, handing her one before putting the other in front of the grave. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but could you leave me alone with him for a moment? I’d like to tell him the good news”, she asked only for you to quickly nod.

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help today. I love you”, she told you with a smile.It wasn’t like her usual, radiant ones, instead being much smaller, but it was genuine, and that was the only thing that mattered.

[omgjumin]

firsts with han jumin <3

summary: the first time you hug and kiss jumin

tags: jumin has mommy issues (me too), he's just a man in love, gender neutral reader, canon compliant, fluff just fluff

notes: ive noticed the myms fandom is starting to get more active, so i got jumin brainrot and made this, i could make a nsfw second part for this if you guys want anyway

the first time you hug jumin is after the party. you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him close to you without letting go. jumin is so warm, the way his body immediately reacts to your touch and relaxes upon embrace. his heart is beating faster and faster with each passing minute and jumin can't help but smile at your affection. but jumin has never really liked hugs or anyone touching him in fact. his father was never really around him when he was a child and some part of him wondered why even though deep in his heart, he knew why. his birth mother only left a deeper hole in his heart after she divorced his father. jumin never received love when he was a child and he's accepted it. yes, his father gave him gifts that he only hoped were full of love when the time was necessary but jumin never felt the love that he truly craved.

he was casted away, locked behind a door that separated him and his mother for hours at a time. the basement that held no ones presence but his and toys. he wasn't a normal child, at least that's what he was told. no one has given him true affection up until now. he's almost expected that he'd hate affection whenever it was directed towards him. but when you wrap your arms around him and lay your head against his chest, he doesn't know what to do. he tries almost as naturally as possible to bring his arms up to hold you as well. yet you could feel the awkwardness behind his actions. you find it funny almost. you have a silver band that fits perfectly around your ring finger and a matching one on his yet jumin doesn't know how to hug you back.

you laugh softly as you tilt your head up to see the awkward love struck man. "you're going to have to get used to this." you say almost in a mocking way but your words hold no malice towards him. jumin could only laugh softly before nodding his head to your words. it's only been a few seconds yet jumin never wants to leave your embrace.

the first time you kiss jumin is right before you leave his penthouse for the first time. jumin kissed you on the first morning of you staying there in front of sarah, yet you had no time to react nor kiss him back. your mind was hazy, should he really be kissing you while elizabeth was still missing? should his soft lips really be on yours in front of sarah, when you could've sworn you were just a friend. yet when v comes to take you home, you stood in front of jumin, your hands reaching forward to grab his. "even when you're still standing in front of me, i miss you." jumin whispers as if he wanted no one but you to hear. "ill miss you too." you say quietly even though you were going to see each other again in less than 24 hours. 

jumin is scared that if he touches you more, he won't be able to let you go. that maybe he'll just send v away, tell him that you might as well stay here with him. jumin will excuse it as the potential of danger but he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else. his head is still tied in knots but when he feels your lips on his, there's a moment of tranquility in his brain. where peace takes over, there's only sounds of ocean waves crashing, birds chirping, the sound of your voice calming down his rushing heart. jumin can't help but close his eyes and just hope this moment never ends. he feels your lips moving against his very gently as if he was a fragile glass flower. jumin almost feels guilty, his heart is racing and he feels fragile in your touch but shouldn't he be making you feel that way? as soon as his eyes flutter open, you pull away slowly and smile up at him. if jumin didn't know any better, he would've collapsed on the floor. the dramatic fall that he saw so many times in soap operas. you were so pretty, enough to make him fall in love with you even more than he already was. his heart is beating against his chest even harder now and it only took one look from you.