#and i. god. i did shed a small tear.

[shittywriterbrain]

HE'S THE WEIRD BISEXUAL UNCLE THAT TELLS FUNNY STORIES WE HAVE WON. WE HAVE SO FUCKING WON

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami

word count: 2.8k

warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)

part 2 | masterlist

“marry me.”

proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.

“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.

kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.

“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.

neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.

the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.

after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.

your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.

at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.

“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.

nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.

you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.

once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.

you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.

“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.

kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.

“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.

“i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”

your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.

“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”

he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.

“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.

“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.

“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.

“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.

“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.

you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.

kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.

he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.

kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.

a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.

“…you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.

kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.

the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.

using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.

“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.

“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.

“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.

you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.

“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.

“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.

you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.

even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @starlightanyaaa @lagataprrr @hazzelle-kento

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[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life. 

Neither of you speak. 

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry. 

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 

“Love you back?”

You blink. 

Your stomach drops. 

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 

What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 

He swallows. 

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 

“Wait.”

He says your name.  

And of course you pause. 

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink. 

And for some reason, begin sobbing. 

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath. 

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 

“How could I not be so in love with you?” 

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog. 

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 

Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 

And he’s laughing. 

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly. 

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod. 

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised. 

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 

But at the same time—everything’s different. 

And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

-

part seven

[sweetiecutie]

you and childhood best friend Simon losing your virginities together on your birthday🥺

Pairing: childhood friend! Simon Riley x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, both reader and Simon are implied to be 19 or so, fluffy smut, lose of virginity on both sides, fingering, unprotected sex and pulling out as contraception (DON’T DO THAT)

A/n: god anon, that’s absolutely fucking ADORABLE!!! I enjoyed writing this sm! It turned out a bit longer than I originally planned but it is what it is.

You and your best friend Simon were sprawled out on your soft bed, soft pink sheet were rustling underneath your bodies whenever you moved. Some stupid show was playing on your laptop but neither of you paid much attention, chatting and laughing at each other’s stupid jokes, tummies full of delicious cake and aromatic tea cold and long forgotten on your bedside.

- What else does my angel want for her birthday? You know I’ll do anything you want, - Simon said quietly, his voice slightly raspy from chain smoking. Corners of his thin lips rose up in small smile, the one he reserved for you only; his hand came up to tuck a stand of loose hair behind your ear, gently pinching the apple of your cheek as he did so.

You just shrugged your shoulders meekly, smiling and blushing uncontrollably at this cheeky gesture:

- Nothing, just wanna be with you, - you said, looking up at Simon through long lashes, feeling your tummy flutter at the sight of his gummy smile upon hearing your words, those adorable dimples that you wanted to kiss so much showing on his stubble-pecked cheeks. You felt a sudden fit of courage simmering in your chest, so you added tentatively: - And maybe a small kiss?

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you watched Simon freeze, his body tensing for a few long moments after registering your words. Then his smile widened slowly as he sat upright from his semi-lying position, scooting over to be closer to you.

- I’ll give you as many as you wish princess, - he promised quietly, tip of his tongue running over his lips impatiently before pressing them against your own, big calloused hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. You hummed into the kiss contentedly, releasing long a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Your hands rested on Simon’s sides, crumpling soft cotton of his tee in between your trembling from nerves fingers, causing the hem to ride up, giving a glimpse on milky skin of his stomach.

Simon felt as if the whole world was spinning around and in the centre of it was you - gorgeous little you, all pretty and dolled up for your birthday, so pliant and soft in his rough hands. He couldn’t help himself from pushing his lips against yours a bit harder, small moan tearing through his chest upon the taste of your cherry scented lipgloss - god he’s been dreaming of this his whole fucking life.

Neither of you could tell how exactly everything happened - it was a mess of hot messy kisses full of tongue and shared saliva, hands raking up and down each other’s bodies, sloppily moulding and caressing, finally able to do so after years of yearning. You were laying on your back with Simon slotted cozily in between your thighs, his t-shirt off, button and zipper of his jeans undone, your greedy fingers cupping his hard-on through black cotton of his boxers, rubbing and stroking his throbbing cock. Blonde cussed under his breath, sucking another pretty mark on the side of your neck, his hands kneading soft pudge of your tits, pinching and tweaking sensitive nipples gently.

Simon didn’t hesitate to shift one of his hands lower, rubbing you through your pretty panties, cooing at the wetness seeping through them.

- Want you s’bad, Si, - you whined, bucking your hips against your best friend’s hand, feeling his cock twitch under your fingers at your words.

- Gotta work you open first, dearie, - he murmured and placed a small peck at the tip of your nose, doing quick work at shedding your clothes down, leaving you flushed and naked under him. Running two of his fingers over your slit he opened your folds, groaning at how fucking drenched you were for him. With his thumb rubbing and prodding at your clit a bit clumsily blonde carefully worked one finger inside of your fluttering hole, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. No matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of your fingers, everything felt tenfold better with Simon.

Soon he added a second, and then third fingers in, spreading you open on his thick knuckles, making you feel so full and needy for more. You synchronised the pace of your jerking on Simon’s cock with the his digits fucking in and out of you, eliciting a throaty groan from his.

- Can’t wait no more, I need to be inside of you, - Simon hissed, taking his fingers out of you, leaving you so cold and empty as he hastened to tear his pants and underwear off, crawling back in between your soft thighs. - Can I?

You nodded fervently, watching with wide eager eyes as your best friend pumped his cock a few times, spreading shiny bead of precum all over his brownish tip. Aligning himself with your awaiting entrance he met your eyes, making sure you wanted it still. Receiving a small yes that fell from your kiss swollen lips he pushed carefully, breaking into your virgin pussy. It stung still, even despite your pooling slickness and all the stretching. Simon hissed under his breath, head thrown backwards providing you with delicious view of his strong neck and chiselled adam’s apple, his face scrunched up as he fought the urge to bottom out inside your tight cunny, cumming shamefully quick.

Staying like that for a few long minutes to allow both of you to get used to completely new feeling Simon crouched down to pepper small butterfly kisses all over your cheeks and forehead, his affection melting your insides into a sparkly goo. Blonde took one of your hands and guided it down to where your sexes connected:

- Show me how you like to be touched.

And so you did, rubbing your clit in full circles, tight pleasure of it helping to ease all unpleasant feelings from first penetration. Simon cussed under his breath, feeling how you clamped down on his needy cock, pushing your hand away and taking over your clit, imitating the pace you’ve just shown him. With added stimulation you relaxed further into him, your walls declamping, allowing Simon to finally move.

His first thrusts were faltering and hesitant, not wanting to move too fast or rough to hurt your thus stretched walls any further. Slowly but surely picking up pace Simon soon was fucking you into your mattress, his cock brushing that one spot within you repeatedly, his thumb massaging tight figures eights on your swollen needy clit.

- That’s my birthday girl, so perfect for me. God you feel amazing, I could’ve cum right this instant, - Simon moaned, thrusting his hips against yours gently, fucking himself in and out of your needy cunny on slow sensual pace.

- Si, I think I’m gunna cum, - you whined out, feeling familiar heaviness settling in the pit of your tummy, your nerves aflame with newfound pleasure. Your hands gripped onto Simon’s buff biceps, seeking out some grounding; his hips faltered slightly, deep throaty moan rolling off his tongue - realisation alone that you were going to cum because of him was enough to push him right over the edge.

- Cum f’ me, pretty girl. Cum on my cock, let me make you feel good, - he encouraged, his thumb rubbing your clit more fervently, pushing you right into the pit of pleasure. Your body jolted as a wave of pure pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your eyes to roll back and toes curl. White dots were dancing before your eyes, white noise thrumming in your ears as you rode out your orgasm, your puffy pussy clenching and clamping down on Simon’s drooling cock, bringing him right to his limit.

- Ffffuuuuuck, - blonde gritted you, pulling his cock out and jerking it ferociously with his rough fist, a few pumps were enough for Simon to shoot his pearly cum onto your heaving tummy, staining your skin with milky ropes.

Crashing on the bed next to you Riley scooped you up in his tight embrace, holding you close to his heaving chest, thick fingers tangling themselves in between soft strands of your hair. Simon pressed soft kisses onto your hairline, making you giggle in post-coital bliss, snugging closer to your now lover.

- You can’t imagine how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you like that, - he murmured against your skin, inhaling lungfuls of your shampoo mixed with your favourite perfume. - God I’m not letting you get out of bed after that<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some feedback <3 Also, requests are open

[seunmong-in]

🌅Sunsets in Sydney🌅

Genre: Fluff, childhood best friend to lovers, Idol! Felix x Reader, Humor, slight cursing, she fell first but he fell harder. 

Words: 2.1k 

Summary: After being on tour for a whole year, Felix is finally back in Sydney for a well-deserved break. While he is ecstatic to be with his family again, there’s one person who he wants to see most. His childhood best friend and crush, Y/N. 

A/n: Okay, can I start this off by saying, Holy crap… Thank you to all who like or reblogged my first fanfic with Han!! ( click his name if you wanna read it ! ) I honestly thought it wasn’t that good since I wrote it in a very sleep-deprived state, lol. But y’all proved me wrong🥹❤️‍🩹 That said, I hope you guys also like this story with Felix! Like always, if you have any feedback or want to make a special request just DM me!! Here’s also my latest one with Seungmin as well 🫶🏼

P.S Does anyone else have “that’s not very nice” stuck in their head too?

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365 days. 

That's how long Felix has been away from the place he calls home. And no, he doesn't mean his actual home back in Sydney. He means being away from his childhood best friend, Y/n. 

Felix and Y/n have been best friends since grade school. They have always been there for each other, from performing in talent shows to caring for each other when one falls ill. They are like two peas in a pod; wherever one goes, the other is sure to follow.

On the day Felix had to tell Y/n that he was leaving Sydney to become an idol in Korea, he broke down crying. He was worried that being thousands of miles away from his closest friend would strain their relationship. As he was about to board the plane, he turned around to see Y/n waving goodbye to him with tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't help but cry, too.

Surprisingly, Felix and Y/n's friendship didn't end after that day. Instead, their bond grew even stronger. Y/N would constantly update Felix through text or calls, sharing the details of her day and making sure he didn't miss out on anything important. While Felix enjoyed receiving these updates, what he loved most was the pictures his mom would send him of Y/n with his family on small family trips. Seeing her smile and taking selfies with his sisters always warmed his heart.

He had already surpassed the stage of simply developing feelings for Y/n. Felix adored her. He loved her. Whenever he watched a video of a couple on TikTok or Instagram, he imagined how to recreate the same videos with Y/n by his side. His heart skipped when Y/n surprised him at one of his earlier concerts with Olivia and Hannah, Chan's sister. The memory of her dancing his part of God's Menu while Hannah danced Chan's part on the big screen was something he would never forget. Since that night, Felix had been planning to confess his love to Y/n, and he decided to do it under the sunset in Sydney.

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Under the hot summer sun, Felix's freckled face is lit up with a big smile as his family rushes to greet him. Olivia is the first to embrace him, screaming, "Oh my God, do you even know how I miss you, Lix?!"

Felix laughed, embracing his youngest sister and repeating, "I miss you more." He noticed that Olivia had grown a bit since the last time he saw her and that her hair was now dyed at the ends. Noticing her brother staring at her hair, Olivia mentioned that Y/N did it a few days ago at one of their usual girls' nights. His mom and dad were the next two to hug him tightly, with his mom shedding a few happy tears.

"I say this every time, but I am so happy to have my baby back home."

Felix wraps his arms around his mom, hugging her as he says, "I am happy to be back home to Mom."

Felix was sitting in the back of a car, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Y/n. He was waiting for her message, asking if he had reached home safely, but he had yet to receive any message from her. Although this was unusual, he assumed she might be busy.

Suddenly, Olivia abruptly interrupts Felix's train of thought, "So, are you finally going to ask Y/n to be your girlfriend while you're here, or are we still sticking to the whole 'she's just my best friend' excuse?" The unexpected question catches Felix off guard. His face turns red with embarrassment as his mother turns her head around from the passenger seat, waiting for a response.

Avoiding eye contact with his mother and sister, Felix clears his throat, allowing himself to find the right words.

"Um.. what makes you think I even have feelings for her?"

Olivia stares at her older brother, scolding him with his earlier response, "Felix be so fucking for real right now. It's obvious you have feelings for Y/n. You look at her as if she is your whole world, your face lights up with a smile whenever she texts you, and you always seem to find a way to talk about her when we talk on the phone. If that doesn't scream, "I am in love with my best friend," then I don't know what does. Oh, and before you go and argue with me about this, even the boys agree that you are completely strung up on her. So do us all a favor and tell her how you feel, will you?"

Felix sighs as he looks up to see his sister's gaze. He knew he had to come clean now before his plans got ruined. 

"Have I mentioned how much I dislike you sometimes, Liv?"

"Yeah, but I'm your favorite sister, so start spilling before I call Hyunjin and have him tell Y/n to you." 

During the last five minutes of their car ride, Felix confided in his family about his plan to ask Y/n out when they reached the house. He made them promise not to say anything to Y/n about his plan since he wanted to create a memorable and private moment between them.

As Felix's father pulled into the driveway, Felix noticed Y/n's car parked across the street. His heart raced as he jumped out of the car, ignoring his mother's yelling about not going inside yet. 

Felix barges through the main door and stops when he sees the handmade "Welcome Home Lixie" banner that Y/n was struggling to put up. He chuckles softly and leans by the living room doorway, watching as she gets on her tiptoes to hook the string onto the nail.

"You know, I could've helped you put up the banner, sunshine if you would've waited a little longer."

Y/n turns around to find Felix smirking. Blushing, she runs to him and hugs him. He hugs her back, lifting her up and spinning her around.

Trying not to cry on his shoulders, Y/n ever so softly whispers, "You have no idea how much I missed your hugs, Lix."

"Me too, sunshine, it's been way too long."

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After returning home and having dinner early, Felix went upstairs to his room. There, he discovered a welcome-home basket in the center of his bed. The basket contained his favorite candies, face masks, a small chicken plushie, and gift cards to his preferred places. Felix smiled, realizing that it was a gift from Y/n. She was always the type to spoil others with gifts, even if it was a small occasion. Looking through the gifts in the basket, he heard a soft knock on the door, and Y/n walked in. When Felix looked up at her, they locked eyes for the second time that day. Time seemed to come to a standstill, and after a while, Y/n was the first to break the silence.

"I hope you like it; I saw it on Tiktok late last night and thought I should make you one."

"I love it a lot; thank you, sunshine." 

He gives her a soft smile and motions for her to sit with him on the bed. She walks over and sits beside him, watching him unwrap more gifts. Y/n can't help but laugh as Felix brings the chicken plushie up to his face, jokingly asking, "Do you think it looks like me?"

"As much as I want to say yes, I feel like I am going betray BbokAri, so I must lie and say no."

Felix and Y/n laugh as Felix places the plushie back on the shelf behind him. The room lights up in a golden hue, indicating the sun is about to set. Without wasting more time, Felix takes Y/n's hand and leads her out of his room and towards his car.

"Lix, what are you doing? Where are we going?"

"I was hoping we could watch the sunset together again, just like we did as kids. It's been quite some time since the last time we did, and let's face it, we're not getting any younger. Before we know it, we'll be as old as old man Chan."

""I'm going to tell him you said that," she says, laughing as she follows him to his car. They both jump in and drive to the nearby beach.

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As the car pulled onto the sandy shore, Felix practically flew out of his side to open the door for Y/n. She beamed with delight as she stepped out, feeling the warm sand under her toes. Felix swiftly closed the car door and took her hand, leading her towards the beach. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking display of pink and orange hues as the sun descended below the horizon.

"I forgot how pretty the sunset could be when you can see the reflection on the water."

"I know, but it's even prettier with you beside me," Felix responds. 

Y/n stands before Felix, unsure if he is joking or serious. He chuckles as she becomes flustered.

"You know that's not very nice."

"What isn't sunshine?"

"You saying that to me and not explaining what you mean," Y/n states as she turns away from him. 

Felix grabs Y/n by her waist and spins her, holding her close. Y/n's face flushes a deep shade of pink as she catches her breath. They've been close for years, but something feels different about this moment. There's a palpable tension in the air, a feeling of unspoken love that's hard to ignore. Felix looks deep into Y/n's eyes, examining how the sun's warm glow illuminates them. The sound of waves crashing against the shore adds to the moment's magic. Fighting the urge to kiss her immediately, Felix takes a deep breath as he stares into her eyes. 

"Do you remember why I decided to return home for a break instead of staying in the dorms with the boys?" Puzzled by his random question, Y/n nods her head, looking back into his dark brown eyes. 

"Of course I do. It was because you wanted to be with your family since you were homesick, Lix."

"You're right. But there's something important that I need to tell you, something that should've been said from the very beginning. Y/n, I like you. I'm in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts not to have you by my side most days or even to call you mine. The night before I left Sydney, I intended to confess my feelings to you, but I knew it was bad timing since I was leaving, and I didn't want to end our friendship. So, I kept it to myself for years. However, seeing you with Liv and Hannah at our concert earlier this year, dancing and singing to our songs, made me realize that what I felt for you was more than just a simple grade school crush. Y/n, I'd be lying if I said you weren't the person I want to spend the rest of my life with because I do. I want you to be mine, my only sunshine. And if you don't feel the same way, I understand..."

Felix was toward the end of his sentence when Y/n suddenly cut him off by pressing her lips against his. It was a bold move, but she had been crushing on Felix for what felt like an eternity and couldn't hold back any longer. When they finally pulled away, Felix looked at Y/n with a knowing smile, pressing his forehead on hers. In a very soft voice, Felix finally finishes his sentence. 

"I cannot imagine spending a single day without you by my side anymore. Will you do me the greatest honor of all and be mine forever?

""Until forever stops existing, my love."

[avocad1s]

Trial By Combat - 3

Requested By: No One. Original Work.

CW: Post-Impostor SAGAU,

Summary: Focalors apologizes

Note: This is so late and I apologize for that!

If vou haven't finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part One Part Two Part Four

The rain drops pelted the windows. It seemed never-ending. The sky still looked tormented by the thick overcast of gray clouds that blocked the morning sun. Fontaine hadn’t seen a day of sunshine in days and the Chief Justice couldn’t bring himself to work another day in a row.

No many how many hours he wasted staring at the file created for your case, it did nothing to relieve the amount of sadness he had in his heart. Neuvillette is the most trusted and respected person in the entire nation but even he couldn’t see past the empty accusations the Hydro Archon made.

Once the trial began and he saw your face he had his doubts, your physical appearance was beyond comparison. He didn’t want to believe that you were an imposter, that you had ill intentions but he couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of justice.

He wasn’t the only one with these thoughts, people who sat in the audience began to whisper amongst themselves wondering if you really were a fake.

However a few words from Furina were enough to get many people on board.

‘Do not let yourselves be fooled by their appearance my dear people, they want us to let our guard down! I will personally reveal the truth behind their deceit.’

Yet you do not stand trial, you ask to duel for your innocence and he accepts.

That was his biggest mistake.

He knew that you were no match for Clorinde and he knew that he could’ve intervened at any time, but he didn’t.

You laid on the dueling grounds blood quickly poured from your body. Medical staff and Clorinde were quick to carry you away from the public but Neuvillette will never forgive his inaction.

Suddenly he blinks as a raindrop slides down his cheek.

-

Just like she promised, Furina returned to your room at daybreak. Once you were in her line of sight she bows slightly speaking in a soft tone.

“Your Grace, thank you for allowing me to return.”

You say nothing, watching the people down below navigate through the weather with their parasols in hand.

She takes a step forward. Would you allow her to get close to you again? The last thing she wants is for you to yell even if she deserves it. She takes small steps forward, paying close attention to your face taking note of any displeasure you may feel from her presence.

Eventually she was close enough to touch you, she readjusts her hat slightly before kneeling down resting her hand on top of yours. The Archon smiles slightly feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

“I am a fool,” Furina breathes out, “I should’ve been the first to recognize you but I didn’t and now I will pay the price…”

She feels her lips tremble. Was she going to shed tears in front of her God again?

“I know that there’s no way I can fix this but-“

“You’re right Furina,” you interject, “there’s no way you can fix this.”

She looks up at you with watery eyes.

“But I was doing some thinking last night and I want to move on from this.” You finally look down at her examining her expression. “that doesn’t mean I forgive you and I definitely won’t forget what you did.”

Furina let’s out a breath, you truly were a benevolent being. She was ready to do anything for you to give her another chance, even if she had to pull her gnosis out of her chest.

“Thank you for this opportunity Your Grace,” she gives you a smile, “I will do everything in my power to prove my loyalty to you again.”

You decide not to respond to her statement instead turning your gaze to the bundle of flowers on your bedside table. The stems were going limp and the color of the petals were fading. Whoever brought them must’ve forgotten to water them, they’re almost dead now.

Furina stands up wiping her wet cheeks as she gives you a small smile. “Your Grace, would it be alright if I show you around Fontaine? I know everyone would be very happy to see that you’re doing okay.”

You look out the window once more, she was right. There was a large crowd of people who stood outside the building you were in. Many of them holding gifts that they hope to give to you.

You open your mouth to respond but another voice cuts you off.

“Lady Furina that’s not a good idea…”

Clorinde leaned against the threshold of the door, she had dark circles under her eyes as she stared at the two of you. “Their Grace’s wounds are still healing. Walking for extended periods of time could be dangerous.”

Furina pouts slightly at her words but she knew Clorinde was right. If you were to tear your stitches you might not survive another operation, and the mere thought of you dying sends shivers down the Archon’s spine.

“You should let them get plenty of rest for now.” Clorinde suggests, “The medical staff will return tomorrow to change their bandages and give an update on their condition.“

You can see Furina visibly deflate at her words, “I know, I know…”

With a bit more pushing, Furina soon left with Clorinde leaving you alone in the room once again. Suddenly you feel a wave a fatigue wash over you, maybe not getting any sleep throughout the night was a bad idea. You stand from the windowsill and walk slowly over to the bed sinking into the soft material. A sigh leaves your mouth as you close your eyes listening to the sounds of rain against the glass until you eventually fell asleep.

-

You wake up to the sound of small footsteps, their voices are hushed as they walk around the room. You decide to keep your eyes closed, curious what their intentions of coming here were.

“Let’s change the flowers before they wake up. We don’t want to get caught.”

Hmm. So they’re the ones bringing the flowers.

You open your eyes sitting up in bed and your meet with…

…a Melusine?

“Oh no! We’ve been caught!”

The two hang their heads down sadly, as if they were were just caught by their parent.

“So you two were the ones who brought flowers to my bed?”

The Melusine look at each other then at you.

“Monsieur Neuvillette asked us to bring these to you.” One of them confessed.

You blink, “Neuvillette? He asked you to bring these?”

She nods holding the flowers out to you, “will you take them? It would make him really happy if you did.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at the bouquet in the Melusine’s hands. Even if you couldn’t forgive any of them now for what happened. What good would holding a grudge do?

You take the flowers bringing them to your face to smell the sweet scent. “Thank you for bringing these to me, tell Neuvillette I said thank you.”

The Melusine give you a closed eye smile nodding as they walk towards the door. However before they were fully out of earshot, you hear one of them say:

“Maybe we’ll have some better weather now.”

You look down at the flowers, they truly were beautiful. They were Romaritime flowers, ones they could only be picked with the hydro element. You feel a small smile spread on your face as you replace the other bouquet with the new one. With a busy schedule like his, Neuvillette must’ve went out of his way to get these for you.

-

-

Underneath the cover a darkness, a large ship docks right outside the court of Fontaine.

It was unusual for a ship to come at this time but there was no mistaking that symbol that steered any citizen away as quickly as possible.

“Lady Harbinger, we’ve arrived.”

The Knave stands from her seat, she wasn’t here for diplomatic reasons or for her comrade that rotted in Fontaine’s prison. Her reasons for returning home were purely selfish.

She steps off the boat her heel landing in a puddle the was slowly drying from the warm breeze Sumeru’s desert nearby. The Knave looks up expecting to see rain clouds but is met with thousands of stars spread across the night sky. It was a clear night.

“All of you head to the Northland Bank and do not reveal our true reason for coming here to anyone. I will retrieve Their Grace myself.”

-

© avocad1s 2023

Tagging: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily @tempestlart @angelofdarkness2 @mmeatt @dxprived4-starboys

If your @ is bolded, for some reason I cannot tag you! :(

If you wish to be removed from the tag list you can comment or inbox me and I’ll take you off :)

[angelluvs19]

Hi👋 I know nobody is gonna see this but i just love the idea of Luke with a ditzy girlfriend so I decided to write it myself. I'm not great at writing but I still wanted to post this somewhere bc I kinda like how it turned out <3 (if anyone does see this plz don't judge, like I said I'm bad at writing)

Ever since he met her he knew the guys at camp would be all over her. She was so innocent and would fall under their spell in a heart beat. Which is why he needed to make sure that he got to her first. He told himself that it was because he wanted to protect her, that the other guys would only use her. But in reality, there was more to it than that and he knew it.

There was something about her that drew him in. Mabey it was the way she got so flustered when she first met him. The way she looked up at him with those pretty blue eyes of hers, her cheeks a bright shade of pink. And the fact she stuttered when he asked for her name, making him smile.

Or mabey it was the way she dressed. She always wore skirts, even if she was at a camp. Shed wear a short white skirt with the classic orange camp half blood shirt. She always has a bow in her hair. Whether it was to hold in her pig tails, or a small pink clip with a bow on it in her long wavy hair.

Whatever it was he knew that he needed her to be his, and Luke always gets what he wants. Only a week into camp, she was all over him. She'd always stayed right by his side during capture the flag, and by the gods if anyone tried to hurt her they'd spend the rest of the day in the infirmary.

Or whenever the camp was doing activities, even something simple as bracelet making, she's always insisting that he help her. Stating that she can't tie it or that she cant find the right beads and needs his help. He knows that it's just stupid excuses so that he could be around her, but who was he to deny his princess?

And when she'd come crying to him because  of something random that happened to her he always Comforts her, no matter how small it is. Most of the time it's Clarisse making fun of her because she did something wrong, or one of the boys making sexual jokes towards her. But sometimes it's something as simple as her breaking her favorite blush, or ruining her favorite top. But he still whispers sweet praises and promises in her ear as she cries into his chest. "shh it's okay sweetheart. I know it hurts, but everything is going to be alright" or "I'm here okay, I'll make sure to protect you. No one can ever hurt you when your with me"

And one night when she was sitting in his lap crying, he finally makes a small move. "Do you want me to make you feel better?" He asks, his voice soft, hiding the undertone of lust he felt for her. Even when she's crying she's so pretty. When she nods, his hand starts creeping up her thigh until he reaches the hem of her panties.

When she questions what hes doing he just says something like "I'm helping you feel better. Isn't that what you want?" He asks, smiling at the small whimpers that leave her mouth as he rubs her clit through her pink panties. "See? It feels good doesn't it" he says, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves faster. Her soft moans and pleas only make him want her more.

And once he makes her cum once he just can't stop. He starts fingering her, most definitely taking her virginity. And when she complains about the pain, he just praises her softly. "I know baby, I know it hurts. You're doing such a good job princess. I promise it'll feel so good, even better than before". And he was right, soon she was moaning and whining while grinding her hips against his hand, only making him go faster. "That's it sweetheart, taking my fingers so well" 

And he doesn't stop until she on the verge of tears from the overstimulation. The second she catches her breath he lays her down on the bed, his hands immediately moving to unbutton his jeans to relieve his ranging hard on. "I know your tired baby, I'm only gonna take a minute okay?" He reassures you softly before sliding in, giving you time to adjust.

He knows that it hurts more than his fingers, and when you start crying from the pain he just kisses your cheek gently "hey, It's okay. I know it hurts darling. Just relax and let me take care of you okay? I'll protect you". He gives you extra time before moving in and out of you at a slow pace.

"Shh it's okay princess, it'll feel good soon" he says softly, thrusting a little faster. Soon she's squirming under him, begging to cum again. He fucks her a little faster, getting her closer to the edge. And when she finally does cum he talks her through it. "That's it baby, you look so pretty cumming on my cock. You're such a good girl for me. You're mine now aren't you? Gonna let me fuck you whenever I want?"

He moans out praises before he pulls out and moves to cum on her pretty face. He smiles when her tounge lolls out to lick the cum off of him, but when she comes back to reality she starts complaining about how he ruined her makeup.

He laughs softly at her reaction and cleans off her face with a towel before laying down beside her, pulling her into his arms. "I'm sorry I ruined your makeup, when I leave camp again I'll bring back all the makeup you want" he promises as he runs his fingers through her hair, loving the way she smiles up at him. Eventually after a few minutes of cuddles and praise, she closes her eyes and nuzzles into his chest. "Aww is my princess tired?" He teases softly. "Sleep baby, you deserve it" he kisses your forehead as she falls asleep in his arms. He had her in his grasp, and no one was going to take her away from him.

[imwetforyourmom]

NO ESCAPE.

CW: depression, crying, mention of no eating, mentions of being trapped in ones mind (and cant find a way out), absolutely no y/n/character, depressed!chris

SUMMARY: where chris falls into a depressive episode and cant find a way out. matt cant stand watching his brother suffer in once what he experienced.

A/N: guys… no y/n for this one… + PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SONGS WHILE READING ITS ACTUALLY THE ENTIRE REASON I WROTE TS AND IT GOES SO GOOD 🙏😭

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“its gonna be okay, chris.”

chris felt as if he'd never experience being happy again, the word an empty hole inside his gut that slowly tore open more each dreaded opening of his eyes every morning. the physical exhaustion he felt every morning, finding his ability of still being concious, filling inside his body as simple as water filling an empty jug. he didnt want to be empty and filled with exhaustion.

the fucking word that everyone explained to be the best thing on earth, heavens place on earth, was torn so easily from him, left his mind to its feeble attempts of retrieving the word and becoming it. why was he deprived of ‘happy’? what did he do to deserve this?

he didnt want this. he didnt want to dread having to get out of bed every morning, he didnt want to have to keep biting back the tears he felt pooling his waterline every morning. he didnt want to huff a large breath with even moving his position on his bed, seeking the comfort his mind couldnt withhold. even the thought of getting out of bed, and leaving to do an activity he used to enjoy put his mind on edge. why couldnt he get out of bed without putting up a fight?

he reminisced in the memories of the activities he used to do with a stupid grin on his face, a grin that pained his cheeks. not pained from the amount of crying he did. the pain in his gut being from laughing too hard was only a memory he could wish for but never recieve, why is it now hurting from the thought of getting out of bed to do something, anything. why was he like this?

his brothers begging, pleas and even their shed tears did little to convince him to satisfy the angry demanding growl of his stomach, desperate for food. but even the mere sight of food brought tears to his eyes and a gag at the back of his throat. he wanted to eat, but couldnt. he didnt want to be this way.

he didnt want to have to tell his brothers ‘no’ everytime they asked, even begged for him to take a small spoonful of food. always being given the same reply, the same reply that never failed to bring tears to their eyes and a strike of pain to their chest. a sickening pain they could never escape, maybe until chris voluntarily came out of his room with a hopeful radiance. maybe that would be the key to escape. he didnt want to have to seek an escape.

on the rare occasion chris came out of his room, nicks facial expression scrunched in sympathy, and a whirlwind of emotioms crushed over matt. a whirlwind of emotions chris wished they never even had to think of.

chris’ eyes were sunken in, lips chapped and as pale as his food deprived skin, his hair always a mess, an absolute nightmare to even try and comb through. his entire figure sickly skinny. but most importantly, matt—anyone—could tell how not okay he was, how utterly depressed he was. even with his pathetic attempt at convincing everyone that he is “okay” and not praying to god everynight that it gets better. that god will somehow take his hand and lead him out of the four white walls, dimmed light and screaming thoughts keeping him captive from his own escape.

but, even with his tries, hes well aware everyone knows hes not okay. especially matt and nick. they were the first to notice, and always will be.

they were the first to notice chris’ smiles slowly subtracting each day, his usually radiant, sun filled energy beginning to fade into nothingness. even the simple gleam in his eyes darkening—they noticed, of course they did. the writhing pain chris only experienced in the depths of his mind, nick and matt felt in their entire being. it was of to no one what chris experienced, except his brothers. when it all first began, nick and matt could see it in chris’ slowed energy.

one of the biggest signs he gave off, was the drastic change of sleeping in his room everynight. the cold pricking chris’ skin from not having another body beside him was the only thing he felt other than the tiredness coursing through him, and he wasnt up to giving it up yet. sleeping in his brothers rooms didnt give him the cold shivers he so utterly wanted, and again, he wasnt ready to leave the only thing he felt yet.

matts own sleep began taunting him, taunting him of the fact chris wasnt beside him, warming his shivering frame, the same cold that chris seemed desperate to experience, too attatched to let go.

matts attempts at keeping himself warm became desperate, two blankets turned into three, then four—then matt had enough.

he wanted his brother back. he wanted the familar laughter echoing across the house, he wanted his comforting embrace around his body and muffled giggles in the pocket of his shoulder. what he once told he didnt want, but now craved for, was going to be his to call comforting again.

matt stood out of bed, pushing off his nth blankets off his body and walking quick, watching his feet as they desperately walked the memorized path to chris’ room, the room he hadnt been so desperate to get to in weeks.

his footsteps stopped abruptly at the door, where matt second thought this entire thing. what if chris didnt want to be bothered? what if he walked in on the wrong time?

what if— he cut himself off with his hand going to twist the knob quickly, shoving the door open and quickly closing it behind himself.

his eyes frantic as they searched across the room for his chris. finding him in no other place but laying flat on his back, in starfish pose with no blankets, goosebumps covered all across his pale skin.

“chris?” matts shakey voice rang through the freezing air. his voice only a whisper in chris’ far long gone head. a cry for chris in chris’ tear filled ocean. a yearn in chris’ longing for his joyfilled self.

a sob broke throughout the tension filled air, matts chest moved rapidly as tears streamed down his face, his shoulders rising up and down, syncing with the rise of his chest.

“please chris,” he begged, crawling onto chris’ bed, wrapping himself around chris, shoving his face into the crook of his neck, his arms locked around his torso and his legs intertwined with chris’.

a shiver ran up chris’ spine at the sudden warmth, though, it silenced his overwhelming thoughts. the arms around his feeble body brought the comfort he prayed for everynight.

chris bit back his own sob, returning the same comfort matt brought him, curling into matt.

matts embrace was like the key chris had been seeking for ever since he’d been locked in the four white walls he’d called ‘his mind’. the mind that turned on him so suddenly. but thats okay, because matt was here. matt was here to bring him out of his mind, and bring him into the comforting warmth of being okay for a second.

“its gonna be okay, chris.”

1222 words

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[missmielyhoran]

Oreos and Pickles (Sad Ending)

in which you spent 2 years with Harry and a grocery store trip makes you realize it was all secondary...

[Warning- Just pure angst, fluff if you like close your eyes ig, pregnancy cravings, complicated feelings and a very awful grocery store trip, alcohol, drunk driving, Harry]

Masterlist // Part 1

*****

A single moment can change many things.

But not the feelings you have for someone and a simple grocery store trip made him realize that.

He loved the way dress flowed when you walked and how it showed just the tiniest bump only he could notice cause that's all he wanted to do.

But he hated how his hands weren't in his and how far you were walking. At the same time, a part of him was itching to run back in and talk to her, ask her how she was doing, how her work was going, and everything he could think of.

Was it wrong? Very much, but he doesn't know what to do.

He opened the door to the passenger seat, and you slid inside, saying a small thank you. He walked around and slid into the driver's side. When he looked up, he saw something he never wanted.

There she was, crying in the driver's seat of her directly in front of him. Their eyes met, and god, he shouldn't want to run to comfort her, especially with his pregnant girlfriend sitting just beside him.

"I'm going to Amelia's." Your voice brought him out of trance as he turned to look at you.

You were so different from her not only feature wise but also emotionally while she was this emotionally sensitive person. You, on the other hand, would not shed a tear even in the saddest of situations. He couldn't even think of a time he saw you cry.

"Niall and her are out of town I think" He replied.

He saw your face scrunch up in annoyance, "Just drop me off at Cam's house" you said, turning your face away from him with pure anger.

"Stress is bad for baby" He said, reaching for your bump but then retrieving back as you were very much not like that right now.

"Yeah I fucking bet" You muttered under your breath.

Harry just drove to your sister's house in silence. He was in a hurry but in a hurry for what? he didn't know, or maybe he did, but it was just not time his heart had accepted it.

As they reached the house, he saw your sister out collecting her mail. She waved at both of them, but when she saw your face, her smile fell, and so did her hand.

You got out of the car without so much so of a bye or when you will return, and Harry didn't know why he didn't care, you were mother of his child shouldn't he?

He drove off the curb and started driving towards his house. His mind was jumbled all with the thoughts. It was weird to just see her face he tried so hard not to even think about her. He threw out her pictures, her gifts, every piece of her existence, and yet she came back somehow.

He felt guilty and betrayed, betrayed by his own conscious and heart.

He took out a bottle of whiskey as soon as he got into the house. He drank half the bottle in one go feeling the burn in his throat and his eyes watering.

Heaving his threw the rest filled bottle on the floor, scattering the pieces of glass all around. He looked around, and his life looked like a mess. The living room was filled with boxes, your new clothes, and baby stuff he kept buying impulsively. All somehow felt like a mess.

The mess that looked like home in the morning.

In anger, he took his car keys and made a beeline to his car. He didn't care about the glass, the boxes, or the fact he was very much drunk.

He got into the car and started driving to the place he knew like his hand.

He drove and drove till the familiar white house building came into the view. His hands were shaking, and his body was shaking, to be honest, but he knew he had to do this.

He put his car in the park and walked to the porch, knocking on her door like he used to, and he felt like that again, like he was again where he was a few years ago.

Then similar eyes opened the gate, a very smaller version of eyes he fell in love with.

"How many times I have told you to not open the gate until I say so!" She came running from behind and stood freeze looking at him as was he.

He looked between the child and her and couldn't comprehend what it was.

"Harry, what are you-" She asked, leaving the words hanging in the air, but she also knew what he was here for.

"I wanted to talk to you" He said hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

They walked through her house to her backyard, where she shut the glass door so no one could listen in to their conversation.

"Who was-" He left the question hanging in the air, confused as the woman who left him for not wanting a family was here playing house with someone else.

"That's my daughter, Cassie" She said with a soft smile, "She was a surprise totally not expecting, thought it was flu or something turns out I was pregnant" She said with a chuckle.

"So you left me when I asked you to marry me and start a family, and now here you are, playing house, huh?" Harry said angirly, "I cried, begged you to stay, and you left saying I deserved someone who could give me what I wanted! You could've given me what I wanted. You have what I wanted. You just didn't want to!" He said, slamming his fist on the picnic table.

"Calm your voice Harry my daughter is playing inside, and I don't want her to get scared or know what is going on here" She said strictly. Harry sighed and slid down back in his chair.

"I could've never given you what you wanted. A white-picked fence was not something I dreamed of, nor would I ever. Her father and I got divorced just in 6 months of marriage cause I couldn't do it" She said, "A marriage, a child and a career, I couldn't do it all at once, he understood that so we just co-parent now" She explained, "You wanted a wife Harry and you deserved one, and if so long into our relationship I couldn't agree to it then it was a waste of our time, we had different goals of relationship and at some point, we had to go onto our separate paths."

He stood there listening, feeling baffled on how she could just break his heart all over again without making him hate her.

"But you crying in the store, we can still have everything" He said, feeling tears breaming in his eyes.

"Harry what-no!" She yelled, "Oh my god" She panicked.

"Harry, I was crying cause I was happy. Yes, a lot of feelings came over me seeing you all of a sudden, but the main thing I felt was happiness. Happiness that finally you had everything you wanted, a beautiful girlfriend, a child on the way, and the way she looked at you- she is utterly in love with you" She explained softly, her eyes were filled with concern and contentment.

It was pathetic honestly how he realized what he had done. He had everything in the palm of his hand, and he threw it away on his own.

"It's not too late Harry go get her" She said softly, feeling his pain even after years of separation.

But it just might have been.

Cause as he was walking to his car practicing how he will kneel and ask for your forgiveness. The ring he had for you will be given to you today no matter what he will fix no matter what, but then he got a call from your sister.

You were in the hospital.

Turns out stress was bad for the baby.

So he got into the car with tear filled eyes to drive to the hospital he saw the oreos and pickles they bought sitting in the back seat but they were of no use.

Just like his apology, just like his pain, his realization, his love, the unmade crib sitting in the living room or the half painted nursery nothing was of use.

All cause of his stupidness and impulsiveness.

He lost everything chasing his past while having everything in present.

Now, all he has is regret.

*****

I hope you like this it's kind of rusty I know but I will try to post more from now.

Please Like, Comment and Reblog it helps a lot.

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Love you guys a lot♡ please tell me how you liked it here♡

[thebadboyfanclub]

Gods Have Mercy (Daemon x Reader)

This was very particular but so much fun, I was listening to “God help the outcasts” from the hunchback of notre dame which is the whole vibe I’m going for. Please leave a comment about what you think I really do appreciate them. Hope you enjoy

Daemon felt like a fish out of water when he stepped into the Sept, a sea of candles and utter silence as the statue stood tall and stoic, its shadow could frighten a small child or command a common man to bow,

Hesitantly Daemon approached as he looked around to take in the small details, the dim lighting, and the smell of herbs burning, he was not accustomed to the routine of a man that came to pray, truly he was forced to even step foot in here, his brother the king commanded him after he was found on the side of the street naked after a 3-day bender on the streets of silk.

“Wonderful isn’t it? Just its presence brings goosebumps”

A woman’s voice startled him that came from behind, swiftly he spun on his heel to view the person that interrupted his thinking but also kind of knew what was he focusing at.

A young woman dressed in the usual gown of a Septa, as the light managed to shed some light within the room he could see her dark hues that reminded him of grass, her red plump cheeks, and pink lips, she was… beautiful, a concept that was quite foreign for someone that had hid behind the burden of a Septa.

“You are too young to be a Septa”

“You honor me, my prince”

“Why did you even choose this? Or was it forced upon you?”

“You can ask me all the questions you want it will not change the fact that you feel awkward within the walls of our sacred place”

She spoke the truth, Daemon shifted on his feet as he once again looked around to no actual aim, it was just to buy himself some time until he finds the proper way to respond.

“Honestly I am disappointed, I was told I would burn alive if I ever even walked past from here”

“The Gods guide, they forgive, they simply take you under their wing and protect their children that chose to follow their path”

“What happened to you? There must be something that forced you to have this mindset”

The Septa remained silent, she could sense the prince's urge to not only figure out what lay behind her mask but to also find a way to kill time, her guess was that he was not a common visitor, and judging by the comment he was not a follower of the faith either.

She simply walked past him and kneeled in front of the candles, she lit two of them and placed one in front of her and the other by her side, once she intertwined her fingers with one another she waited for him to follow.

“I promise nothing will happen to you if you kneel my prince”

Daemon scoffed at the Septa who called for him, howbeit he complied and with heavy footing and a little bit of grunting, he kneeled and mimicked her gestures.

“A few years ago I fell from the top of a whore house”

“What were you doing on top of a whore house”

“I come from a poor family, we lived near it and I wanted to know what was all the yelling coming from. I was bedridden for a full moon turn, I broke my hand and got an infected cut on my thigh, the fever was the worst part, yet all I could hear was my mother praying, she prayed to the mother to save me, she prayed to…. To take her instead, she offered her life for mine, so I prayed to the mother to spare us, to nourish me back to health, and in exchange, I would devote my life to the faith”

The Septa had not realized she had started to cry, the voice of her mother crying and begging for her child to be saved rung in her head to this day as clear as the sky. Daemon instinctively reached to wipe the Septa’s tears away, the love of a mother was always the strongest force, he could faintly recall his mother, such a spirited woman, he would often wish to feel her hug one more time.

“That is why I believe the Gods will listen to you, is there anything you have to say?”

“I lost my mother due to childbirth, if the Gods listened to you? Why did they ignore her?”

“We are all children of the Gods, some of us must stay and some must depart from the physical realm, you can still find her, in the gust of a wind, within the walls of the Sept, maybe in the silence of your chamber whilst you lay for the night, why don’t you try?”

“How to do I-“

“Just… listen”

Daemon stopped talking, he just waited for something, he did not know exactly what but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose and out his mouth making his shoulders relax.

(Y/n) could slowly pick up his facial expression change, his tough front slowly break and then came one tear, then a second, a minute after that came the first sob, slowly but in a steady pace Daemon went from a cold warrior to a boy that cried with his head on the lap of the Septa who allowed him to be engulfed by the vulnerability he had shoved at the very back of his mind.

Daemon was inconsolable, trembling like a leaf in the winter wind, (y/n)s heart shattered for the poor prince, all she could do was stroke his hair while he fought with the waves of emotions he had turned a blind eye to for years.

“I’m sorry”

“There’s no need to apologize, emotions are what makes us human, mayhaps the saying of Targaryens are closer to gods than to men is not deliberately true”

“What is your name?”

“I am (y/n), my prince”

“(Y/n)”

He whispered more to himself. The name tasted like honey in Daemon's mouth, without really understanding why Daemon smiled at the sound of her name slipping through his lips, it rolled off his tongue so naturally like he was meant to call for her, to meet her.

“Can I see you again?”

“The Sept is my home, my prince, I will be here”

Daemon visited her every morrow after he broke his fast, once he found her lighting some candles, he found her praying, a few times she would conversate with other visitors of the Sept, (y/n) would be there for him for as long as he needed, however, it would always be on arm's length, a veil of faith and celibacy kept them apart, (y/n) could not marry nor bare children, she would forever be a maiden dedicated to the Mother.

(y/n) had once professed her wish to help women with childbirth, perhaps be a midwife for the poor, her selfless act was astonishing to Daemon, a young lady that was so soft-spoken and kind that some would say she was the Maiden herself in human form that came down to serve the Mother, Daemon witnessed how others would yearn for (y/n)s encouragement, old women and men, even children would run to her and hug her, he could imagine what it would be like if their children ran to her arms.

“May the Warrior guide you and keep you safe my prince”

“Can I write to you?”

“It is not common”

“Would you get in trouble?”

“The followers can be close to us in any way they wish”

“Then I want to write to you”

“As you wish”

(Y/n)s heart skipped a beat at the pressing question of Daemon, she had prayed many times asking why the Gods send her such temptation, the kind prince that tested her oath every day with his gentle words and soft touch, the Father was resting her judgment there was no doubt about that.

“I- I want to give you this”

(Y/n) presented a small pendant that was the star of the seven, it wasn’t of value but (y/n) had prayed over it and begged the mother to protect Daemon, to wrap him in her cloak and keep him safe.

“It would mean a great deal to me if you wore it”

“Thank you, I shall bring it back to you, alive”

(Y/n) subtly looked around before she gave in to her urge and rushed into his arms for a hug, she might never see him again, war was cruel and the Stranger visited often if this was their last encounter then she shall at least know what his hugs felt like.

Daemon hugged her tightly, he feared for his life but mostly he feared that he might never be able to call for her again, to say her name and see her bright smile on every morrow.

“If I come back, I want us to leave together”

“Daemon”

“Please (y/n), see it as a sign, if I survive this then we are meant to be together, the Mother will protect me only if you agree to marry me”

“Do not use the Gods for a vile game”

“It is not a game, I-I love you”

“Leave, please”

“(Y/n)”

“May the Gods have mercy on your soul”

She simply dismissed him after she pulled away to turn her back on him, Daemon took a step but stopped before he took another, he could not see it but (y/n) was already tearing up, she felt her heart rip to pieces as his steps echoed less and less until they became nothing, the silence lasted only a minute before her sobs took over.

In a blink of an eye (y/n) kneeled in front of the candles, the burden was a heavy one for a girl, she had never experienced such a trial, she had almost looked the Stranger in the eye still this was the most difficult of all.

“I beg you, Mother, I beg the Gods, show me a sign, I do not know what to do, I am a mere mortal, help your child, if you can hear me, please help me”

She muttered in between her cries, she felt weak, unable to continue by the fear of making the wrong choice as she stood at a crossroads, was this union a blessing or a test?

Daemon fought fiercely during the day and at night he would lay and play with the pendant, twirling it around his fingers and sometimes even resting it on top of his lips, was she praying for him? Was she waiting for him? Did she wish to see him again? Questions raced in his head before the dreams took over and brought him the gift of imagination, his precious (y/n) playing with their children, 5 children, he could almost taste her but she was always slipping through his fingers, never enough time to hug her as tightly as he could.

(Y/n) was tormented, with bags under her usually bright eyes, sunken cheeks, and pain growing on her legs as her mother fell ill, with a high fever, (y/n) stood by her side until the very end.

“Go to him, my sweetling, he waits for you”

Her mother whispered before she left her last breath, (y/n) had tired herself from crying to the point that she did not know what was she even crying about anymore, was it the worrying over Daemon? Her mother's passing? The overall confusion over what her life has come to?

“(Y/n)?”

She brushed it off as her mind playing tricks with her now, she continued to pray along, it was the only thing that had kept her somewhat sane, the Gods had been cruel to her, not only did they take away her mother but Daemon has stopped sending her ravens if he was alive and well was unknown to her.

“(Y/n)”

Could it be? (Y/n) slowly turned her head towards the direction of the voice, there he stood, Daemon, her prince, his hair was short and he was skinnier than the last time she saw him.

(Y/n) wiped away her tears but remained kneeled, has she lost her mind? Was she seeing just a vision or was he truly standing there? Her lip quivered as they both stood frozen, waiting for the other to do something.

“It’s me, my dearest”

He whispered to reassure her. Daemon sensed her pain, her questions, and how she was afraid to make a step, he knew it well, they were times he could have sworn he saw her on the battlefield or waiting for him on his bed, and others he could hear her praying.

(Y/n) In an instant rose and ran to him, she fell in his arms as she was engulfed by a plethora of emotions that drowned but one overtook all, relief.

“You are alive”

“I made a promise, I needed to bring you your pendant”

She laughed between her sobs as she wrapped her arms around him one more time, squeezing the life out of him but he did not mind, her hug was the closest thing Daemon had felt when it came to religion, she was his church.

“I missed you”

“We must go”

“What?”

“Get us out of here before I change my mind”

“What has gotten into you?”

“Do you want to question me now that I am agreeing to your plans?”

Daemon could not contain himself anymore, before (y/n) could comprehend or respond his lips had crashed into hers into a deep, passionate kiss, soon his arms wrapped around her waist to bring her as close as humanly possible, it was (y/n)s first kiss.

“Let us leave before the Hods strike us for sinning”

-

(Y/n) and Daemon chose to make their home in Pentos, a beautiful free city that (y/n) had dreamed of visiting, they had eloped the day they landed, (y/n) wore a simple gown and it was the first time Daemon saw her hair, her beautiful mane that framed her face perfectly, she was his for the rest of their life and hopefully the next, how could a woman so perfect love a sinner like him?

The raven Daemon send to king landing to announce the birth of their first child angered the faith to no end, the rogue prince had lured a Septa and turned her to lust and sin, and whispers grew about their children being cursed, that they were all deformed and that is why they did not dare to come back.

Daemon shielded his family from such vile words, (y/n) was gracious to bless him with 5 children, 4 girls, and one boy, all of them beautiful, kind, and happy, (y/n) and daemon made sure of that.

Daemon had gifted (y/n) with creating a Sept for her after she gave birth to their first daughter, Elara, she had deep grey eyes like a wolf and dirty blonde hair like the color of a golden sunset, when Daemon walked in to find (y/n) holding their daughter after laboring for a full day he cried, his wife, his love, she created life.

“Thank you”

“For what?”

“For everything”

Then came their son Aeron, who came rather quickly and without fuss, (y/n) only felt some discomfort during her evening nap and the maester had just stepped into the room when the babe was crowning, he had his mother's eyes and hair as white as snow.

Adira gave everyone a surprise, she was not alone, she was with her twin sister, Naeva, who was frail and so small in comparison to Adira who was chubby and red-cheeked, (y/n) refused to leave Naevas side, she would spend her nights in a rocking chair by her cradle.

And then came their last little girl, (y/n) would often reminisce about the day that her children burst into the room after the labor to peak at their new sibling, Aeron was the first to hold her, and the little boy was in utter awe of the new sister, he had leaned to place a peck on top of the babes head.

“Mother, I was hoping I could name her”

“What do you suggest sweetling?”

“Avyanna”

“It is a perfect name for a princess, don’t you think so my love?”

“Indeed, it’s settled then”

Avyanna was a spitting image of her mother, except for the dark lavender eyes, she had even inherited (y/n)s hair which made her stand out from her siblings, she had a few blonde streaks but you couldn’t see them if her hair was pulled up.

Daemon was proud of his family, he patted himself on the back for being able to rise to the occasion and prove himself worthy of (y/n)s love, he took great care of his lady wife, anything his family wished for they had their feet.

(y/n) worried that the children will grow spoiled, she taught them the importance of sharing and the great value of gratitude through her faith that she never forgot, often she was seen attending orphanages and anyone that knocked on their door for help.

“Alright now settle down, this ceremony is sacred and serious, you must be on your best behavior”

“We know Mother”

“My dear, you have told them about it a thousand times now”

“I’m sorry, I am just-”

“I know”

Daemon brought his wife closer by the waist to place a kiss on top of her covered hair, she was dressed in all black like everyone else but you could understand that this meant more to her than just a funeral, it was their first time back in Westeros, the Targaryens had never seen their children, her heart beat fast at the mere idea of her little ones getting insulted or ridiculed in any way.

All of them remained close to their mother and father, Daemon held Avyanna in his arms, and (y/n) frowned as she caressed her daughter's cheek, she wanted to hold her but she was still sore, the maester advised her to refrain from lifting anything.

Naturally, Daemon led (y/n) to their chamber the minute the eulogy ended, he did not care about mingling or anything that had to do with people that turned their noses up on (y/n) and their children.

“You must rest”

“I feel fine”

“And you will feel even better if you lay down”

(Y/n) knew better than to chastise her husband on this matter, Daemon was an overprotective man especially when it came to her and her health, they had already had a fright he was not willing to take any chances.

“The strangers visit is the one I fear the most amongst the Gods, he sparred me once, now twice”

“And thrice if needed, I will not let them take you”

“It is not up to us to decide”

“It is up to us to be careful, you gave our family 5 perfect children that need their mother, we are in no need of another”

“If the mother gave us 5 why did she take this one? And the one before that, mayhaps-”

“(Y/n)”

“It is not pleasant I know but I constantly feel cursed”

“You are not cursed nor our children, let us not speak on this again, please”

(Y/n) did not verbally respond, she chose the route of getting up from their bed and reaching for Daemon to hug him, Daemon trembled at the thought of losing her, seeing her in insufferable pain and grief while blood stained the sheets was horrid, he could not imagine what (y/n) went through, of course, he wanted a big family but it was not worth the price of (y/n)s life, none of it would be worth it without her.

The vulnerable scene between husband and wife was interrupted by a knock on the door, Elara was white as a ghost and her hands were shaking, (y/n) feared for the worst at the sight of their distraught daughter.

“What is it dear?”

“Aeron claimed a dragon but he got into a fight”

“Gods have mercy, show me”

(Y/n) prayed as she walked to wherever her eldest daughter led them, she spotted Aeron from a mile away, her son sat in a chair next to another young boy who was getting his wounds tended by a master.

“Oh, my love, my sweet little boy, what happened?”

“I am fine mother, I’m unharmed”

“Gods be good”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around her son as tight as possible, Aeron was aware of his mother's fear of him and his siblings getting in harm's way, but he did not fuss over how tight she was hugging him quite the contrary after such an event he relished the familiar loving embrace of his mother.

“Yes the boy is safe but my son has lost an eye”

“I do not follow”

“Your son claimed a dragon while Aemond claimed Vhagar, your daughter and son were present when my son was attacked”

“Stole Vhagar”

“You cannot steal a dragon, little girl”

“Elara! Be respectful”

(Y/n) scolded her daughter who hunched over at her seat, (y/n) did not raise her voice often so when she did her children did not take it well.

“Queen Alicent, I trust my children allow me to ask them for the truth”

“Aemond, Elara, and I were wondering when we saw Vhagar, I pushed Elara to stay back and Aemond did not follow, he claimed Vhagar like Elara claimed Silverwing, when Aemond flew that’s when Vermithor came, I figured that if Silverwing came for Elara then Vermithor might be here for me, Elara and I flew with our dragons when we landed the only thing we saw was”

“Was what?”

“Prince Lucerys attacked Prince Aemond, he had a knife”

Elara finished her brothers' sentence, Elara was always brave and stoic, whilst Aeron was noble and level-headed.

(Y/n) hesitated, her children wouldn’t lie to her, if it happened as they say then it means her children could not have possibly interfered with the squabble nor saved Prince Aemond.

Daemon walked to his wife’s side and pancaked his arm around her shoulders for comfort, he could sense that (y/n) feared what to say, she did not want to upset nor make matters worst in front of the king and queen.

“My children are not responsible for the injury of Prince Aemond although it still is a grim affair”

“Grim affair? My son has been maimed”

“While Aeron was in the sky with his sister”

“They could have-“

“They could have what? My children are not fortune tellers nor do they have the eyes of a hawk to see what is happening on the ground”

Daemon defended his son and took a few steps towards Queen Alicent, (y/n) went back to her son to hold his hand in support of him, Elara got up from her seat to go over to the other side of her mother and hold her other hand.

Rhaenyra stood by her son's side as she watched Daemon defend his family, 10 years passed and he was a different person, now he had 5 children and a personality that Rhaenyra could not recognize, how he stood up for his son, how endearing he had been with his wife, how he completely ignored and avoided her, the Dragon had circled (y/n) and their two children, willing to do anything and go against anyone to keep them safe.

“This is a matter between you, my family had no part in this”

“They encouraged Aemond to go to Vhagar”

“They did no such thing, my children were playing and Aeron protected his sister, you can spew lies as much as you wish Alicent but I know the truth”

“Which is?”

“That my son claimed the dragon of a previous king and that is a matter for us to celebrate, you can kill each other for all I care, my wife and I will escort our children to their chambers and tomorrow my son will mount his dragon back home”

Alicent refrained from responding, even a Hightower knew that there was a line that she mustn’t cross when it came to Targaryens, Aeron had a dragon now, Vermithor flew just to find him, Daemon puffed out his chest before he also went back to join his family, with his one hand he guided his son to stand up on his feet and patted him on the shoulder.

“This is a blessing, my only son has a dragon like my eldest daughter, I will not let anyone taint this day for you”

“Thank you father”

“Queen Alicent, the Hightowers have always been a family that followed the guidance of the seven, the father is a just God, seek for his voice and find it in your heart to understand that our children are not responsible”

“Or don’t, the father will not be here to help you once you attempt to point your finger to my son”

Daemon hissed at Alicent, “how did these two even came together?” The queen thought, however it was as clear as day that she was stepping to dangerous territory, (y/n) was a pious person but even she could not save Alicent from Daemons aggressive nature, she could only offer a small way out before the inevitable happened.

Requests are open!

[evie-sturns]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟO

part 4 (final part) (part 3,) (part 2), (part 1)

summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.

a/n: this is the last part of the series so it will be a little longer, took alot of mental strength to finish this series haha.

warnings: smut, car sex, angst, fluff, swearing

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previously

"saw you two last night." she says, her arms folded.

my stomach drops. "jessie wants you two in her office, such a shame that you have to go home so early, you were only here for such a small amount of time! guess someone didn't read the no romance between staff rule.." she tuts.

"god, i feel soo sorry for you guys, also gonna fail business class cause you couldn't even keep a job here." she says in a fake sympathetic tone. tears well in my eyes, threatening to fall.

"oh well, go on get dressed and pack your bags, better to be prepared before you see jessie." she sighs before walking out of our cabin.

-

as soon as dani leaves our cabin i jump out of bed, on the brink of tears. "come here." matt says, walking over to me and holding his arms out. I walk over to him, he pulls me into a tight hug as he rubs my back.

"matt." i say, my voice shaky.

"i know i know." he reassures, whispering into my hair.

"i can't even believe this, we're about to get kicked out of summer camp all because of danielle, i'm about to fail final year business which will ruin my collage application-"

i ramble, but i'm cut off by his lips meeting mine.

after a few seconds he quickly pulls away, running a hand through his hair. "look y/n, none of this shouldve happened, we should just stay as friends yeah?" he says softly

friends?

my heart sinks, he regrets everything? like i mean everything?

we should just stay as friends..?

my face visibly drops, the cabin grows silent as matt just looks at me.

i clear my throat, trying not to cry for the 2nd time this morning. "i'm gonna get dressed." i say, my voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

i grab some low rise denim shorts and a tank top, getting changed in the corner of the cabin as matt packs his things.

"lets go, jess is probably waiting in her office for us." matt mumbles, opening the door to the cabin and stepping out into the fresh morning air.

the walk down to the main building is silent, the awkward tension still present.

as i step inside jessie is waiting, her arms folded. "wont you two please come inside in my office." she says, opening the door into her office. me and matt walk inside.

dani is sitting there, looking guilty.

me and matt share a confused look before sitting down on a couch,

jessie comes inside, sitting down aswell as she starts.

"i assume you both know why you're here?" jessie asks, looking at me and matt mutiple times.

we both stay silent, trying to think of what to say

"well clearly not, your here because of the incident with y/n and dani, i am aware a few days ago there was a fight in the bathrooms over matthew."

i almost cry from relief, this wasn't about me and matt fucking in the bushes. i look over at matt, hes running a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief.

"last night, dani came to me, saying she saw you two partaking in inappropriate activites."

shit.

"like what.." matt asks softly.

"well dani told me you two were making out in the shed." jessie says, crossing her arms

thank god.

"i am choosing not to do anything serious about this incident, but i will be moving dani to the puffer fish staff group, meaning you will not see her for the rest of the summer to prevent anymore physical fights." jessie says calmly.

dani scoffs "the fuck are you on jessie? move y/n away, i did nothing wrong, they were the ones kissing?" she says, throwing her hands up.

"dani. go pack your bags and move into the pufferfish staff cabins now." jessie says, clear irritaion in her voice.

dani stands up, glaring at matt, she storms out of jessies office.

"and for you two, no more intimacy or i will seperate you two aswell" jessie declares.

(5 weeks later)

ever since the meeting with jessie, me and matt have stayed friends, we didnt discuss the makeouts, or the spontaneous hook up. we've just been acting as friends, i hate to admit it, but i think im inlove with matt.

-

its the last day of summercamp, all the staff at the camp are sitting around the campfire, loud chatter fills the summer air as i sit next to matt.

theres around 25 staff members all gathered around the fire, matt's sitting on a foldout chair, im sitting on his lap laying myself against him. my head is resting on his shoulder as his breathing lifts me up and down slightly.

"matt.." i whisper, he moves his head to look at me.

"yeah?" he says softly, the light from the fire illuminates his face, he looks unbearably good.

"i really need to say something." i mumble, looking into his eyes. he nods understandably, maintaining eye contact with me.

i start to feel my heart beat faster,

i mean, if he liked me once he can like me again?

"i dont want to just be friends matt, i never moved on 5 weeks ago, quite frankly i think im inlove with everything about you." i ramble, matts eyes widen. i feel his body tense under me.

"you are?" he says, his voice barely audible.

"yes.. and i'm tired of pretending im not because of this stupid no camp staff romance shit." i say, looking directly into his eyes.

"i really want to kiss you right now." he says softly.

"you do?"

he awnsers my question, his lips press gently against mine for a couple seconds. he pulls away and looks around, nobody saw us, execpt for jessie.

jessie just smiles and shakes her head, theres no point in her doing anything giving that tomorrow we'll all be gone.

(The next day 8:30am)

i wake up, xaiver is still sound asleep, i get out of bed and walk over to him, tapping him lightly, as soon as he wakes up and is aware of where he is he bursts into sobs. i take a step back.

"sorry" he sniffles, "im just gonna miss you so much y/n, you've made dealing with 25 kids per day worth it, and youve helped me through getting over all my stupid boy crushes who rejected me." he says,

i giggle slightly, "love ya xaiver, you've been the best cabin roomate." i say giving him a hug. "don't cry please, ill see you when were home okay, i gave you my number and adress we'll still see eachother!" i say, trying to cheer him up.

he nods before getting out of bed and stripping the purple silk bedsheets off the matress, still sniffling.

i finished packing last night, so i help xaiver pack his bed.

i hold up a condom wrapper "why the FUCK is this under your bed xaiver." i say laughing, he slams a hand over his mouth.

"can i be honest" he says, a large smile spread across his face.

"oh my godd who did you fuck!" i giggle, throwing the wrapper at him

"lincoln." he says bluntly

i scream "matt's roommate!?" i yell, he slams a hand over my mouth.

"since when was he gay?' i whisper, xaiver shrugs "i dont know!!" he says, his face bright pink.

after a few minutes of helping xaiver pack while bullying him, the cabin was empty, clear of clutter. "you ready to go?" i say softly, he nods, we walk out of our cabin for the last time. i sigh as i approach matts cabin, hes waiting outside with lincoln, his suitcase in hand.

i whisper to xaiver "i can never look at lincoln the same."

as i approach matt he rushes over to grab my bag, i give everyone one last goodbye hug before matt takes me towards the carpark,

his car is still there, covered in leaves from the trees above. matt opens the trunk, throwing it in before getting in the drivers side. silence grows in his car before i start-

"that was one eventful summer." i say, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

he leans over and pulls me into a passionate kiss. "ready to get going?" he says, pulling away and putting on his seatbelt.

"yeah i think so!" i smile, as he turns on the car, pulling out of the carpark into the highway.

after 30 minutes of driving, and talking about the summer, matt starts to grow stressed, i know he has quite bad driving anxiety so i keep patient with him. "shit" he whispers under his breath as he changes lanes.

he grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles go white.

"hey when you have time can we pull over for a second?" i ask quietly, he nod, pulling over into an empty parking lot with a sigh. i tie up my hair and crawl over the cup holder onto his lap. his eyes widen as he looks at me.

"you seem a little stressed yeah?" i say, moving off him and onto the car floor between his legs.

he nods, "mhm.." he says, staring down at me.

i hook a finger around the waistband of his shorts, his breathing intesifys as i slowly pull them down to his ankles, a large tent forms on his boxers. "please.." he whispers

"please what?" i tease

"touch me.." matt says, rubbing his eyes slightly out of embarrasment.

i pull down his boxers at an agonisingly slow pace, his dick springs out, resting on his stomach.

i rub his tip softly, matt bucks his hips up, desperate for more. without much warning i open my mouth, breathing on his throbbing length. i slowly lower my mouth onto the head of his cock, he lets out a long groan of pleasure as i swirl my tongue around his tip.

"feels so good-.." he manages to string together as i lick a line from his base to just under his tip, he throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. with my spare hand i pull off my panties, leaving me bare under my skirt.

i bob my head up and down faster on his length, he squeezes the door handle for any kind of support as his dick twitches. he unexpectedly realeases into my mouth "shit..-" he says, still out of breath. he holds a hand out infront of my mouth. "spit it out" he laughs, his cheeks red and sweat present on his forehead.

i spit it out into his hand, "gross" he mumbles, wiping his hand on a napkin. i sit back up onto his lap, his eyes widen "where did your panties go.." he says maintaining eye contact.

i hover up above his length, supporting myself on the headrest behind matt. "i dont know-.." he says, still recovering from his past orgasm. "you're okay." i say, sinking down onto him, he lets out a breathy whimper as he holds my hips. i sit for a minute at his base, adjusting to his size.

i slowly bounce up and down on his length, quickening my pace each time, matt squeezes his eyes shut, "fuck fuck fuck.." he says, growing overstimulated. "you're okay." i assure him as i clench around him, the knot in my stomach snaps as i collapse on his chest. he pants, realeasing inside of me aswell.

(2 years later)

when me and matt arrived home from summer camp 2 years ago, we made it official, after a year i moved into his house with his triplet brothers, i slept in matts room for the whole 2 years. after a year or so he started a youtube channel, i was in some of the videos and i loved it. i stuck with matt the whole time, even through his worst times.

Im sitting on matts bed as he bursts through the door, almost crying laughing "matt what!!" i say, a smile tugging at my lips.

"you'll never believe it." he says collapsing down next to me.

"tell me!" i say, grabbing his hand.

"lakeside summer camp are hiring staff members for the summer, jessie just emailed me, saying she would love for me to come."

"you're joking." i say, i haven't heard several of those words in years.

"we should totally go, i mean you know what came out of it last time!"

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hhhhhollyyy shit finally finished, took me wayyy to long but gilmore girls got me through it. hope you guys liked this. this will also be my last post for a little bit cause school is starting in 2 days and ill be too tired out in the first few days to write.

taglist

@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @ilovechrissturniolo1 @tyjna6 @mattybswife @is4belle

WHAT THE FUCK ANYONE WHO SAW THIS A FEW MINUTES AGO IDK WHAT HAPPENED TO THE END BEFORE I FIXED IT

[voxisdaddy]

You

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Angst

Featuring: A lil bit of Alastor

"I really wanted it to be you. So badly. Until I understood that you didn't want it to be me." -b00zell

“I really wanted it to be you”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Never in the decades that Vox has been in hell that he thought he’d find someone who just gets him the way you do. It almost blew him away. It’s ironic he’s asking but-were you hypnotizing him? No. Of course not. But no one could deny that you had him wrapped around your finger. And you barely had to do anything. You were just… you. The way you smiled, laughed, carried yourself, spoke, touched him, ect. Everything you did was just normal things and yet it seemed like it meant everything because it was you. He remembers one night when you showed up in casual clothing to a fancy dinner date. He remembers how embarrassed and apologetic you were-the name of the restaurant didn’t seem all that impressive at the time. And despite your initial worries that you embarrassed your perfectionist boyfriend that night, the cyan electric current that flashed into a heart shape from the tips of his antenna’s was enough to make you feel flustered for a completely different reason. Hell is forever. And since that night, he felt his forever with you would be the most enjoyable.

“So badly.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ VoxTek and Vox’s status as an Overlord just kept growing and growing which meant things change. For the better-he thought. Of course his beloved wanted to see him be as successful as can be. But as the success kept going, the more your lives seemed to not matter as it once did before. Weekly date nights turned into monthly date nights. No longer would you go to bed together and wake up either entangled in each other’s limbs or one of you snuggling into the other. Good morning kisses before he leaves for work? Yeah… good luck catching him before he’s out the door. Home cooked meals? Sweetheart-why bother when he can just order the highest quality meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? His mood swings worsened-if even possible-and soon coming home to a partner that’s already sleeping would just make him more agitated. Marriage was casually brought up by Velvette-something about wanting to make wedding dresses for an upcoming fashion show-he doesn’t quite remember. His inner fans were working hard in his head as the thought of you in a wedding dress kept him deep in thought. Perhaps rings binding you two together legally would reunite some spark. Yes. Surely it would!

“Until I understood,”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was some dumb argument. Something small and meaningless. But the stress and constant work days Vox faced paired with your loneliness and bitterness that started growing however long ago seemed to have erupted. Things were said. Tears were shed-mainly from you. When things calmed down, Vox foolishly thought you’d be in his arms all night as you had makeup sex just like all the times previously-wait what do you mean you’re done? Their was no more shouting and tears that night but everything remained tense and heavy. Very bitterly and painfully Vox huffed as you packed a bag. You’re not serious. You’ll come back to him and everything will be okay.

“that you didn’t want it to be me.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It had been several years. For months he tried everything to win you back until one day you just vanished. That was impossible. He had cameras everywhere in the Pride Ring. He would have noticed. An extermination wasn’t due for months at that point so you wouldn’t have been taken. What happened? One day Alastor showed up after being gone doing god knows what. Vox was of course angry about Alastor but couldn’t help and be filled with little rejoice when he finally saw you on his monitors again. That was rather short lived when rumours spread that Alastor had taken a lover and had spent 7 years on honeymoon with them. You know… Vox is incapable of crying, at least in the typical sense. His head wouldn’t allow it. So then how come seeing that ring wrapped around your finger make him feel like he could do the literal impossible?

“I really wanted it to be you…”

I hope I did okay for my first one lol. This took longer to come out than I thought it would. I’m only a smidge over 24 hours so it still counts right, RIGHT?!???? I’m kidding. Thanks for reading!

💕🌸

[wokeupchrisbrezy]

Manipulating Reassurance.

Lando Norris

Pt. 3 to Toxicity and Balance

Warnings : Smut, manipulation (so angst? idk I don't know how to do warnings, babes.)

Tears ran down your face as you silently cried in his sheets.

This relationship was so draining. The feelings of betrayal engulfed your mind. You knew he was loyal… physically. Your own eyes watched the wandering nature of his own. The way he loses interest as soon as you don’t agree with him or give him what he wants.

He was so manipulating. So indecisive. It made your head hurt.

Only four more days. Your mind held onto the fact that you’re going back to America in four days. Way back when, you would dread the fact you would leave. At this point, it was easier to cross the Atlantic Ocean than cross the distance that has grown between you and him.

The mattress squeaked as he grew restless beside you. Your soft cries muffled into silence. You didn’t want to wake him up. You didn’t want to have another conversation that would end in either a screaming match or empty words and promises.

The bed groaned as he sat up. A soft murmur left his lips before he nudged your shoulder.

“Why are you still up?” Sleep filled the void of mild irritation in his voice as he spoke to you.

“I can’t sleep.” You lied. Is it a lie if you’re actively crying though?

“Why are you crying?” He said as if you were inconveniencing him.

“I’m not.” Definite lie.

“Liar. Let me see your face then.” His hand attached to your face as he yanked your head towards him. You wanted to escape his gaze.

The only thing that still made you somewhat happy with him was the fact that his touch was soft. He never grabbed too hard, on purpose nor subconsciously. Was the meaning behind his touch gentle? Rarely. His ability to give everything a double meaning made your head spin.

His eyes did not betray his thoughts or feelings. 

“Pretty girl.” He said as his thumb wiped away a tear.

Oh god.

Your stomach twisted and turned as your eyebrows knitted together. The feeling of his two-sided compliments made you yearn for more. The satisfaction of his words, even if they only seem kind on paper, boosted your feelings for him.

The relationship was more physical than emotional. He told you things that he knew would have you hooked. A way to keep you to himself.

His eyes never left yours as he cupped your face in his hands. “Why are you crying, baby?” He murmured. 

“It’s nothing.” You replied as you pulled from his touch so as to not fall into his trap again.

“You know better than to lie to me.” His tone changed from soft and sweet or firm and sour.

You choked out a sob. “I miss the old us.”

Your heart ached at the annoyed roll of his eyes.

He brought you to his chest as he ‘comforted’ you.

“Nothing has changed, sweet girl. We’re the same. You are the same. I am the same.” He said in a heartfelt tone. Again, his face showed the opposite as always. “You’re just tired. Go to sleep and you’ll feel better. Besides, I’m right here. All for you.” His fingers ran through your hair then down your back.

The pounding in your head didn’t cease as you still shed a few tears. 

He lifted your head up. “Stop crying. It doesn’t suit your pretty face.” He said in a somewhat insulting tone.

Your sad expression faltered into heartbreak.

He changed his expression into a loving one as he pressed a couple kisses around your face then another on your lips. He pulled back before pushing the hair out of your face. “I love you. You know that.” He, quote on quote, reassured.

“Give me a kiss. Show me how much you love me.” He ordered.

You rose to your knees before planting a kiss to his lips. A soft and subtle groan left his lips as he deepened the kiss. “Perfect, baby. You’re so good to me, right lovie?” He said in between small pecks along your jaw.

Little gasps left your mouth as he trailed towards your chest, the sight of your exposed skin being cut off by a t-shirt.

His hands trailed up your torso, giving your breasts an experimental squeeze. A genuine smile broke onto his face as he heard your soft whine.

“Don’t tease.” You looked down at him.

“I’m not, baby, you’re just tired and not thinking straight.”

His thumbs rolled over your nipples before lifting your shirt off your body. He eagerly pushed you back as he took his time enveloping your breasts in his mouth. The sensation was heavenly. A hidden talent of his at this point.

One hand slipped into your shorts and his fingers found your clit. The soft rubs and circles made your hips jolt at the feeling. He tore off your shorts then carefully took off your panties. “I’ll keep these safe for you.” He smirked as he stared up at you. Not even a small thought between your eyes.

He loved the look of your eyes when you looked down at him. The way he knew you only thought about him at that moment. It gave his ego a nice and big boost.

His breath ghosted over your slick pussy. You instinctively clench around nothing. This earned a small laugh from him.

“Needy, hm?” He said. He knew he was only talking to himself. He never expected you to answer.

His tongue flicked across your clit then his tongue licked a slow and long stripe along your pussy.

Soft whines and pleasure filled sobs left your mouth. The only noises you were capable of making, and the only sounds he wanted to hear from you at the moment.

His fingers teased your entrance before slipping into your wet core. “Pure heaven, sweetheart.”

His fingers twisted and curled while the pleasure made you clench and whine. His mouth worked away at your clit. His hard work could be mistaken for worship if it weren’t for the fact that this was for him, not for you. He couldn’t care for you right now. He wanted the ego boost of making you cum. Only for him to hang it over your head later.

Grunts and groans left his mouth as you squeezed the fuck out of his fingers and the side of his head. Your hips rolled and shook as the monsoon of ecstasy took over your body. His name fell from your lips countless times as he continued with his motions.

He pulled more and more orgasms from you until you were sobbing and pushing him away. He stopped by the fourth. His hand was covering your juices. He looked down at the steaming tears on your face before placing his slick covered palm over your mouth so he didn’t have to hear your shaky gasps from overstimulation.

“You look better crying like this.”

He took his hand off your mouth before wiping it with tissues from his nightstand then throwing them away. “Go to sleep. I’m tired.” 

He rolled over to face you, I know shocking, His arms pulled you close as his face nuzzled into the valley between your breasts. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl. I don’t like seeing you cry.” He reminded you. “I love you.”

“Love you too…” You whispered out as your hands played with his hair.

Why did you believe him this time?

[lady-ashfade]

A day of thanks.

Dark yandere house of the dragon x Fem!reader

Plot: It’s the day of thanks in kingslanding and your family has tried to make it a good one. Though everyone was always fighting for you attention they toned it down just for you or, did it behind your back. You shared your thanks with everyone close to you, but that only lead to blood being shed. 

Taglist: @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @second-try-stevie @prettyinblack231

This is a bit darker then what I normal wrote but it’s not the long so it’s fine.

Warnings: Dark yanderes tendencies, yandere tendencies, obsession, unhealthy relationships, blood, death. And being the center of a crazy family. Also editing this late so I don’t even know what words even are.

“You look beautiful my lady.” Your maiden, Nrya spoke to you as she finished up dressing you. You looked at yourself in the mirror and gazed at your body. A red and green dress that you had made just to represent both family colors, you had thousands of dresses from red and black to green but this one was different. Green dangling earrings and a red gem necklace.

Your maiden caught you playing with the rings on your finger, “Is it not to your liking?” She asked and you quickly reassured her otherwise. “No it’s not that. I look good, you did a good job. But my thoughts are taken over about what the day will hold. It’s the yearly feast to celebrate one other but my family doesn’t really care for it.” Rolling your eyes at the many fights you have witnessed over the years.

“I just wonder if today will be any different. I want one day were my family acts like well, family. It’s just sometimes they get so caught up over their own petty reasons and just- Forgive me, I should not put my problems onto you.” Waving your hand to apologize and take her hand into yours. You heard her say you didn’t need to be sorry but you cut her off.

“I got you a gift.” Her brows frowned and her head tilted in confusion. “Me? Your grace I can’t not except-” Gigging you pulled her to your deck and sighed for her to wait. She crosses her hands and watched as you opened the drawer and pulling out a tiny bow. “I think you’ll like it.” You pushed out the box and she took it from your hands.

Cautiously and slowly she opened it up, you could tell she was nervous and didn’t know what to do. But when her eyes met the necklace of a small dragon figure with a red gem in the middle her eyes went wide. It was just like the one you had, it was something to cherish for the rest of her days. “I- I can’t not expect this.” You pushed out your lip. “You can and you will, it’s a order of the princess.” She laughed not know what else to do.

“I think you deserve to be well rewarded for helping and dealing with me for years. A good friend you become.” Grabbing the necklace you went behind her and she brushed her hair out of the way. “I would do it free of charge.” The smile never leaving your face as you clipped the chain together.

“But you never have too.” Placing you head on her shoulders as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was the same way you did earlier but the roles reversed. “Today is the day of thanks. You are someone I am thankful for.” Her cheeks flushed and tears in her eyes began to swell up. Nrya never felt this appreciated or loved. You always were kind to her. But this was something she never expected.

“As I am of you.” 

The morning was quiet to say the least. You spent time with the younger children to brighten your day before the day furthers. You had a small book in your hand reading some stories the children didn’t seem to care for since they were focused on their toys. The doors opened and you saw Alicent walk through in a beautiful green dress, her eyes met yours and her happiness showed.

“My daughter.” She walked over to you and kissed you forhead, “The gods gave me you to be thankful.” You smiled at her. “The gods gave me you as a mother. I think I’m more thankful.” She took your face into her hands softly while her eyes scanned your face lovingly. “That’s not possible.” Her attention stayed on your for a moment before she let you go and walked over to Aegons and Helaenas children.

The other child in the nursery were rhaenryas and daemons children. “Is it almost time for the festivities to begin?” Placing the book down. She agreed and kissed her blood grandchildren goodbye before heading back over to you and taking you arm in hers. “I have made sure to make the servants make everything you like.” And with that you both walk out and to the gardens outside.

When you arrived you saw your family actually smiling and looking like they were having a decent time. Aemond and Aegon were over by the wine, jace and Luke were by the small food platers, Helaenas was sitting at the table next to Otto both of them not saying a word but looking relaxed. Rhaenrya and daemon also sitting at the table but talking to Viserys who was at the frontend of the table.

Alicents grip on your arm while Aegon was the first to notice you. “Dear sister.” He called out and everyone turned their eyes onto you. Everyone wanted to get to you first but Aemond and Aegon were first to make it. “You look beautiful as always.” Alicent let go of your arm but aemond was quick to take you into his. Rubbing his back, “Thank you.”

He pulled back and stepped to your side but his arm still placed on your waist, Aegon smirked at you. “Did dressing take you all morning sister? I thought you died in the bath.” He joked. “I was spending time with the children.” You answered and he just rolled his eyes in return. The three of your focus turned to see the other brothers rushing over to you. Aemond almost didn’t let you go but you got away from him before he could do anything.

“Luke, jace.” You pulled them into a tight hug while they wrapped their arms around you. “I am mostly great full of you.” Luke muttered into your left. “I think I have him bet on that one.” Jace said in your neck on the right. Laughing as you pulled them both back. “Don’t let your mother hear.” They shook their heads but your heart flutters as jace takes your hand in his and kissed the skin. “I’m sure we all agree that you’re what we are thankful for the most.” Your cheeks heated up at the kind action.

Aemond and Aegon watched with a tighten jaw’s in jealously watching the boys get all your attention. The way you smiled and as jace kissed your hand made aemond want to kill him, Aegon was just jealous you weren’t paying him any attention. When you walked away to go to the table the boys stared at each other. Jace and Luke smirked at them showing they were proud to steal you away even for a second. Aemond’s eye darkened but he remembered his promise- What everyone promised.

That they would be civil for you.

“Darling.” Rhaenryas cheerful voice called out to you as she kissed your cheek, daemon pulled you in for a side hug and a pat. Since they were close to Viserys his attention was solely on you as he smiled up at you. “My dear girl.” He took your hand in his and you leaned over to kiss his head. “How are you feeling today father?” He just nodded his head and continued to smile. “The gods bless me on today. I feel nothing but happiness.”

“That’s good to hear.” He let go off your hand and you made your way over to Helaena and Otto while they eagerly awaited you. “I hope you both are enjoying yourself.” Otto smiled and nodded while Helaena patted her seat and you sat down next to her while there was some time to spar. You engaged in conversation with both of them when your attention went back on Helaena when she stared right into your eyes.

“Blood spilled over a chain.” She scared you for a minute because she seemed fearful but turned her attention to the plate on the table. Before you could question her everyone was called to the table and you had to change chairs. You got up and moved only a few chairs down, you sat at the end with your father and your mother on the other side. You were sitting across from rhaenrya and daemon to which they were happy about even though they wanted you to be closer to them.

“As the years have passed I have been welcomed to new faces to be great full for, my children, my grandchildren. All of you. I thank the gods each second, I hope that we can all stay as a family for the rest of our days.” He spoke in a breathy manner and grabbed onto your hand as he spoke. You raised your cup and agreed and everyone followed then their plates become full and everyone started to eat- Not before Alicent said prayer and you could hear daemon huff about it.

You watched as everyone was talking and laughing…It felt like a true family dinner. You’ve spent years trying to get them all together and today it was finally coming true. “I’d like to make a toast.” Raising yourself with your cup in hand. “I would like to toast to my father and mother, they took me in when I was a babe and to them I’m grateful. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. I have a family now and you all are the most wonderful people I have to love. To my brothers, to my sisters, to my uncle and grandfather and to my nephews and nieces. You truly are my blessing from the gods.” 

Alicent grabbed ahold of your other hand and squeezed it while everyone cheered and took a sip of their drinks. You watch as they continue to stare at you for a moment but then turn back to something else. “That was very heartwarming dear.” You look down at your mother to see her soft but overpowering eyes. “I was just speaking the truth.” You backed away from her and excused yourself while they all watched you leave.

“Should we follow her?” Aegon suggested. “Ser cole will follow her.” Daemon and rhaenrya shared a glance at alicents words. But you were just using the bathroom.

You were gone quite some time. You made a stop back to your rooms to get a servant to bring the gifts. Oh how you loved giving gifts, what special way to show your appreciation then giving the people you loved gifts. You couldn’t wait to get back to the gardens, you even brought one with you as you watched back with Ser Cole.

“What’s in the box?” He kept eyeing the long box you carried in your arms, it even going above your head because of the way you held it. “Do you really wish to know?” Raised a brow at him in a teasing way. “If you’re willing to tell me.” You giggled and stopped him then handed the box to him.

“It’s for you anyway I was just waiting but it might be better to do it here alone so the others wouldn’t get jealous.” He froze in disbelief and took the box carefully, “You got me something?” He was asking as if you were joking with him.

“It’s my thank you for protecting my mother all theses years and being someone I look up to.” He had to push his emotions down fearing he would cry at knowing you found him so special, and then he would hug you and he isn’t sure he would even let go. He teared the paper covering the box and placed it on the bench, he slowly opens it and you watche his every move. 

It was a sword. And really, really nice sword and the carvings and the tales on the handle were beautiful. But he looked at the middle of the blade and his name ran across it. “Do you like it?” You questioned making sure you didn’t mess up his gift and get him something he wouldn’t like.

Cole turned around quickly and pulled you into his arms not caring if he wasn’t even going to let go. If he was going to die he would love to do so in your arms, “I love it my princess.” He was delighted and you hugged him back happily. You both stood in the hallway hugging until he let go and you didn’t want to be rude and pull away first.

You made it back to the gardens a while later and you skipped back into the area your family was in. “I’m sorry I took so long, I was getting the gifts to share with all-” mouth ran dry as the pressure in your chest pulled you down and you forgot how to breath.

Blood.

There was so much blood.

Your family looked at you but you payed no mind as you looked at what was in front of you. Scanning your eyes you see a lifeless body on the ground of a woman, her head being chopped off and you looked for it’s head. The only thing you could do is fall to the ground and scream at the sight of your dearest friends head laying on the ground.

Your Nrya.

Ears falling deaf as you lost all feelings but panic and grief. You balled you eyes out, screaming for it not to be real while holding onto the ground for support. You felt your body being pulled into a warm embrace but you just continued to cry and only then did you hear the words you were always so blind to see.

“She was just a maid, you’re ours always my dear. You need no one else. You’re only going to be thankful for us.” The voice of rhaenrya whisper in your ear.

You looked over at her body and saw the necklace you got her laying on the ground covered in blood. You soon were told that’s why they killed her because they knew you were close to her. And they’d be damn to let another person be close to you because you’re only supposed to need them. You’ll come to learn in time…

No one else loves you the way they do.

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER IV - ustulation

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, blood, incision wound, fictive mafia clan traditions, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, intimate encounter, kissing

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 5,6K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III GAME OF GO CHAPTER V

ustulation (n.) a burning lust

In the hidden embrace of a secluded mountain valley, a village of hanoks stirred to life on a tranquil winter's morning. The air was crisp, a symphony of silence. The Song of the Dead toned down for some time.

The dawn’s gentle light bathed the valley, wisps of mist from the frost-kissed earth, adding an ethereal veil to the scenery she watched carefully from the closed window.

The majestic mountains, ancient pines and stoic rocks stood as sentinels of the valley's serenity. She could see them from this side of the house. Y/N sighed, holding a cup of tea in her two small hands, warming herself up on this chilly morning.

“Is something bothering you, my love?”

Yoongi had tried his hardest the past month to get under her skin. There were times when he thought perhaps, she would welcome him into her heart one day. However, her repeated escape attempts made him think otherwise. He was giving her the space she needed with carefulness in every action he took. The young leader knew well that she wouldn't be able to escape while they resided here, in the core of the village. That did not stop her though.

As if nature herself wished to bestow a gift upon him, the first snowflakes began to descend from the heavens just as they were returning from that unfortunate, eventful day in Seoul. The snowflakes floated gently, even now, like fragile dreams.

“Are you feeling well? You spent a lot of time in the snow yesterday.” He murmured after she didn’t grant him an answer to his previous question. They had to postpone the wedding as the snow and frost reigned, making it unsafe to pass through the tunnels. The passage was being cleared by workers for more than a week now. Time seemed to stand still as they absorbed the grace that enveloped their world.

“I feel fine,” she muttered back, not even looking his way at the table.

“I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?” He asked, demanding to speak to her.

“After all the stunts you pulled, you’re still free to roam around without anyone guarding you. Not speaking of the fact that I’m letting you sleep alone—” he was going on rumble.

The young leader is patient, but he longed for her more than ever. The fact that they’re still not newlyweds, and he cannot show love to every inch of her body, make her swell with his child, was frustrating him beyond repair. She had let her guard down once and allowed him to take the chance and kiss her on the cheek, startling her yet again.

“—you’re so blinded,” she said suddenly, turning back to face him.

“Excuse me?” said he, very surprised.

“You go on about how you’re good to me, how this is God’s doing, and that I should be grateful—” she threw her hands in the air, frustrated by his demanding nature.

While the leader thought he was granting her the time she needed, Y/N felt more and more anxious every day. Her heart is still itching to be free, yet she cannot stop thinking about what her selfishness would cause if she indeed managed to escape.

“Well maybe if you didn’t run every time, I tried to show you affection, I wouldn't have to remind you of all this.” He spat angrily, smashing the chopsticks on the table, standing up.

“I’m patient—” said he, getting closer to her standing form by the large windows. “—but I swear to God, you’ll disobey me again, and that’s where my hospitality ends, Y/N.”

“I just—” she stammered, making him stop in his attempt to close the distance between them. “I’m scared,” she whimpered. Y/N didn’t know why these words came out of her, nor why there were tears. All she felt was exhaustion.

The scarred leader’s expression softened. Is she finally confiding herself to him, opening up?

“My love…” He approached her, taking the cup from her shaking hands, putting it aside and lastly taking her face into his hands, his thumbs wiping her tears away.

“I can make you happy. You just have to let me in.” He whispered, moving his face closer to hers. Y/N knows they will cross the boundary sooner or later. The winter is making it impossible for her to both run away and survive. Should Y/N listen to her mother’s words and let him make her his queen? The older female’s proclamation circled her mind at night while listening to the cracking of wood in the fireplace.

“Please let me in, dove.” He pleaded again, his eyes filled with sincerity and longing.

And once she nodded her head in approval, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips softly against hers. Time stood still, and the world around them faded into a blur of insignificance. Their hearts pounded in sync for a brief moment. She felt a warmth she couldn't admit, even to herself. Y/N wanted to hate him so much. Despite her inner conflict, she could sense the unspoken longings from his side, his desire to deepen the kiss carefully without overwhelming her. He wished to never let her go and feared that she would vanish in his hold. His lips were tender and tentative, like the brush of a butterfly's wings upon a fragile petal. Y/N knows he is holding himself back. The kiss was addictive, momentarily lifting the burden from her chest.

As he went to slide his hands on the swell of her heart-shaped bottom, a sudden cough interrupted the intimate moment. Y/N quickly pulled away, feeling shame and embarrassment wash over her caused by the sudden intrusion. She stole a single glance at the man standing by the door, grinning mischievously. Her cheeks turned crimson as she felt shy and exposed, but the young leader kept holding her in his embrace, not letting her go so soon after their first shared kiss.

Smiling like a teenager, he said: “What’s going on Hoseok-shi.” Y/N could imagine he is smiling widely as she had observed when she apologised to him for hitting his head with the stone. He waved it off quickly stating ‘I would be a fool to not forgive my new sister.’ She pretended not to be affected by his words, but it made the man she was to marry smile even more mischievously.

“I need to speak to you, and Y/N should get ready for Hyung’s wedding,” Hoseok said, his eyes gleaming with some secret knowledge.

Y/N exchanged a puzzled glance with Hoseok before nodding and extracting herself from the young leader's embrace, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss. Uncertainty hung in the air as Yoongi let Y/N go and walk away, admiring her graceful figure.

“What?” Yoongi asked, turning his attention to his trusted friend, who wore a smirk that hinted at hidden amusement.

“Nothing,” Hoseok replied, still smiling under his nose.

“Shall we?” Yoongi said, collecting himself and walking towards his brother.

“You won’t fancy what news I bring, brother.”

Silk banners fluttered in the breeze, announcing the joyous union to all who ventured near. The bride, a vision of grace and elegance, is adorned in a hanbok of flowing silk and intricate embroidery.

The groom, dressed in the timeless attire of a traditional hanbok, stood tall and resolute. His eyes fixed unwaveringly upon his beloved, as though she embodied the very essence of his being — a force that fuelled his heart.

Amidst the enchanting spectacle of celebration, the weight of tradition resonated with each uttered word.

The outside picture portrayed the unbreakable bonds of family and the beauty of two souls finding solace in one another. Y/N, however, couldn’t help but have a feeling that the poor girl the doctor was marrying did not find herself at the altar because of true love but fearful coercion. It reminded her of her circumstances — a pawn in a larger scheme.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow upon the snow-covered land, Y/N sat beside her to-be husband, observing his unusual joy. Accordingly. Today, one of his brothers was finally taking a wife and his bride in a momentary vulnerability that had allowed him to share a tender kiss with her, amplifying his joy to an even greater extent.

Her ears perked up once she heard the celebration of the union before her. She couldn't resist side-eyeing the other brothers she had encountered over the past month, and her gaze locked with Kim Namjoon, Kkangpae’s right-hand man.

Y/N remembers Kim Namjoon. His piercing, cold gaze bore into her soul, especially so during one of her escape attempts, when he forcefully brought her back to the main house, reprimanding her for disobedience.

‘I can either give up my life to save you or I can be your enemy Y/N.’ Namjoon had warned her on a night when she sought solace near the fireplace in Yoongi's office, wrapped in blankets to warm herself even more. She was rarely allowed in this sacred room unless her actions demanded attention.

That night, Yoongi was dealing with business matters. He came back to the main house to her shivering and crying form. It is breaking his heart every time he sees her in such a state but simultaneously, he wishes she would cross the border of submissiveness and obey him.

Y/N ignored his warning just yesterday when she attempted to run away again. Hence, the gaze. If she was afraid of his next steps, she wouldn’t let him decipher that.

She snapped out of her mind as Yoongi rose from his seat, taking her hand to help her up. Y/N looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. He gently nudged her behind him, positioning himself as a protective shield. She looked around her, seeing that everyone else was still seated. Their looks show emotions —excitement, joy, and pride.

Her confusion heightened when Yoongi began unbuttoning her fur coat that was hiding her long red qipao, and panic swelled within her.

"What are you doing?!” She whispered in distress.

“Behave.” He whispered back to her, leaving the coat open revealing her breasts and tummy.

Leaving her standing close to him, he held her hand tightly, as if afraid she might flee at any moment. Y/N noticed that Namjoon's attention had shifted to Seokjin's new bride. The bride's trembling form approached them, and Y/N observed the gleaming knife in Seokjin's hand, quickly realizing what was about to happen.

It whispered promises of power, of secrets that could be revealed with a single stroke, but it also carried the weight of consequences and a toll on the bearer's conscience. As the girl's hand was carefully sliced with the knife, Y/N couldn't help but empathize with her pain. Her father had a similar tradition; however, women weren’t involved; she was still left in the dark about her role in all this.

The girl then knelt, extending her bloodied hand toward the leader, reciting her pledge of loyalty to Kkangpae Min. Yoongi covered her hand with his other one, acknowledging her devotion and signaling for her to continue with the moving tradition.

The leader then used his left hand to guide Y/N forward, leaving her yet again puzzled and bewildered. A moment later, she gasped with shock as she felt the girl's bloodied hand touch her lower belly. Yoongi held her firmly in place, preventing any instinctual step back.

"I, with my blood, pledge my loyalty to you, Min Buin. Blessed be the fruit of your future legacy, Kkangpae Min," the girl recited, her words carrying both reverence and a touch of melancholy. The significance of the moment and the responsibility it bestowed upon Y/N left her grappling with a maelstrom of emotions.

“Well you handled that well,” a voice came from behind her, and Y/N turned to find Namjoon standing there, watching her by the fireplace in Yoongi's office. She had been curious when he would approach her, knowing that Yoongi had gone to check if the tunnels were passable.

Y/N couldn't quite discern the tone of Namjoon's remark—whether it held irony or genuine praise. Such was the enigmatic nature of this man.

“I suppose,” she muttered, hugging herself for comfort.

“I personally thought you’d slap her hand off. Such an act would undoubtedly stir up trouble,” said he as he settled down in one of the armchairs.

Her mind replayed the events of the pledge, and she confessed truthfully, “I was too shocked to do so.” The new bride's pledge of loyalty to her and her empty womb had caught her off guard, leaving her uneasy.

“Your father is not demanding newcomers to pledge loyalty?” He asked, curious about their inner circle practices. She smirked, sensing his attempt to pry.

“Yes, but not to my mother,” she revealed.

“You hold an important position within our ranks,” the right-hand man noted. “And that, my dear, is why we are having this little conversation.” Y/N looked up, finding him extending a glass filled with what she presumed to be rice wine or soju.

“I genuinely want to be your friend Y/N—” he said while passing the glass to her. “But you’re very hard to please, princess,” he exclaimed.

“By ‘wanting to be my friend’, you mean the part when you threaten me again,” she retorted with a scoff, alluding to his past warnings.

“That is a necessary evil,” he conceded. “But on a serious note, Y/N,” he drew closer, taking a seat slightly further away to grant her personal space, “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” she asked, feeling dumbfounded by his question.

"Is life here truly so terrible that all you can think of is escape?" he sighed, genuinely curious about her state of mind.

“Not all I can think of—” she began, trying to defend herself.

"Oh, so you did not attempt to escape just a day ago, and two days before that, and so on," he interjected, pointing out her recent attempts.

“What do you want to hear from me Namjoon?” she countered, feeling the pressure of his questioning.

“Hoseok hyung overheard your conversation,” he finally gave away the one piece of information he sought to address “What are you afraid of?”

Y/N gazed into the dancing flames, his words echoing in her mind. Memories of the recent kiss with Yoongi and the ensuing events flooded her thoughts. She felt her spirit on the brink of collapse, her attempts to escape repeatedly thwarted, causing harm to others in the process. Y/N was exhausted.

“I suppose I expected my life to take a different trajectory than this,” she admitted, reflecting on her circumstances.

“I can assure you that this will be the best that ever happened to you—” Namjoon insisted, trying to be reassuring.

“And that, Namjoon, is where my disbelief lies,” she interrupted him, peering straight into his eyes. He sighed, running a hand across his face, expressing a sense of frustration mixed with genuine concern.

“You didn’t give it a chance!” He raised his voice, unable to hide his emotions. He wanted this clan to function as it did for countless years and what’s more, he wanted his hyung to be happy.

“I’m going to ask you once again, and I want the truth,” he implored, trying to get to the heart of the matter. “What are you so scared of?”

Y/N decided to remain silent, knowing that her response would likely incite further frustration from him. "Is it sex?" he suddenly asked, shocking her with his explicitness. "Are you scared to be punished for your sins?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she returned his rage, denying his accusation.

“Am I?” he continued probing.

“Yes, Namjoon! You are! You think I’m this shallow?!” she lashed out.

“No, but all you let us see is the shallow version of you. Apart from this morning,” he declared, referring to a rare moment of vulnerability she had shown.

“And it wasn’t meant for anybody to hear nor see that,” she snapped back at him.

“I understand your reasoning, Y/N. But we’re your family now, you don’t have to shield yourself against us,” he pleaded, hoping to break down her walls.

“He loves you, Y/N,” Namjoon continued, trying to make her see the sincerity in Yoongi's feelings.

“That’s very hard to believe too.” She remarked, still sceptical, looking right through his eyes. He took a deep breath, lifting his hand to touch his face.

“Alright, let’s make a deal,” he proposed, catching her by surprise and piquing her interest.

“About?” She asked, curiously.

“Give it a year,” said the right-hand man. By making a deal with her, he is going behind the back of his leader and, even more importantly — his dearest friend. Nevertheless, he felt obligated to do this for him.

"If you're still 'scared' of whatever you say you are, and this is not the life you'll be comfortable living, I'll personally see to it that you'll be transported to America," he promised, leaving her momentarily speechless.

“What is the catch?” Y/N wasn't naive. She knew there must be some ulterior motive.

"You'll stop being a flight risk. If you attempt to run again, the deal is off, and I will personally eliminate each person foolish enough to aid you since your arrival—one by one, ending with your cousin," he stated, laying out the condition.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she absorbed his chilling words. Her mind raced as she contemplated her choices. "That's the only condition?" she asked, ensuring she understood the terms before giving her answer.

"Well, naturally, I expect you to genuinely give it a chance, meaning that you will accept Hyung as your husband, leader, and lover," he emphasized the last noun, urging her to take his words seriously. Y/N stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts together.

“This is a one time offer Y/N. I won’t be this generous again,” he added. She struggled to read him, but she couldn’t. Namjoon was well known for being unpredictable — a quality that made him a perfect fit as the right-hand man. No one could ever say with certainty what his next move would be.

“Fine,” she finally relented, her voice barely a whisper. Namjoon extended his hand, sealing the deal with a firm shake. He leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I trust that you’ll be on your best behaviour from now on.” He whispered to her. There were so many emotions in her eyes right now that she was working hard to process. She barely nodded and averted her gaze down. Y/N couldn’t bear to look into his intimidating eyes no more.

“Very well,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on her. “The tunnels have been cleared, and the wedding will take place this week." He told her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the impending wedding. She was praying that perhaps she has more time to think of what to do with her situation. According to Seokjin, who came to visit and spent some time on occasion with her when his leader could not, the tunnels wouldn’t be cleared out until the end of December, giving her another month in total.

“Brother!” exclaimed Namjoon suddenly, breaking her train of thought. Y/N followed his gaze to the sliding door, where Yoongi stood, undoing the cufflinks of his shirt, the suit jacket already gone. "I was just telling Y/N the good news," Namjoon smiled at him.

Throughout this month, Y/N observed the strong brotherhood among Yoongi's most trusted and closest men. The deepest connection Yoongi shared was undoubtedly with Namjoon, which explained why he was the right-hand man.

Yoongi displayed a particularly protective nature towards his younger brothers. She had yet to meet Jungkook, the youngest, who had been recently assigned as captain of the front unit, as she overheard. On the other hand, Jimin was more involved in the open, managing the front business and whatever lay beneath it. The Chosen Hotel was highly popular among Koreans but was eagerly open to international guests too. Y/N suspected that the true core of the business was settled elsewhere, and she was eager to uncover it.

Seokjin, recently married, primarily served as the inner family's doctor. However, the Min clan also faced a shortage of actual medical staff like, so he had to run between the sanctuary, as she had learnt this place was called, and a front hospital.

Taehyung remained a mystery to her, despite seeing him in family pictures and hearing Yoongi mention him occasionally. He was supposed to represent the law in Yoongi's business dealings, ensuring the safety and legitimacy of their operations, including the handling of illegal earnings. Therefore, Taehyung is the safety pin of this organization. Whomever fucks up, he is there to defend them.

And lastly, Hoseok, a surprising contrast of joy and darkness. Y/N was taken aback that such a buoyant personality could be involved in such sinister activities. He was the arsonist who also took care of assassinations. Additionally, the clan engaged in money laundering, and Hoseok was responsible for collecting debts, often involuntarily.

Her eyes swelled with tears she was refusing to let out. Yoongi’s eyes met Y/N's, and she could see a mixture of concern and worry flicker across his face. A silent understanding passed between them, and they knew that they would need to have a private conversation later.

“Well, it seems you two need more privacy,” said Namjoon while he was collecting himself from the cushion he was sitting on.

“Did Tae call?” Yoongi asked before Namjoon could leave. “He did before Hyung’s wedding, to send his good wishes and—” he gazed over to Y/N who was carefully listening to their conversation, hanging on every word.

“—and?” Yoongi asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, a sight she had seen far too often for her liking. He was not shy with her; he could easily undress before her without a second thought. His attempts to walk in on her while she was changing didn't go unnoticed either, though she made sure to show her displeasure by throwing vases at him to keep him out.

Only now did Y/N remember the glass of alcoholic beverage that Namjoon had offered her, remaining untouched in her hands. She decided to take a sip, trying to ease her nerves before the conversation she was dreading.

“—and everything went well, as expected,” said Namjoon observing her as she downed the burning soju.

“Send telegraph to Wang and other families. We’re leaving for Chosen in two hours.” Y/N straightened herself, eyes wide open in disbelief.

“W-what do you mean in two hours?” She stammered. It was just past eight when she gazed at the clock on the wall. That would mean they'd depart at ten and arrive in Seoul around midnight.

"—I thought they just cleared the way. Why are we—" Yoongi cut her off abruptly. "I am waiting no more," he said firmly, locking his gaze with hers, leaving her in shock once again.

"On your way, please inform the maids to pack, and I want the cabin ready," Yoongi instructed Namjoon, who memorised every task with a sense of responsibility, seemingly disregarding Y/N's shattered spirit in the wake of this sudden rush.

“Can we at least talk about it?!” she raised her voice, causing the two men to stop in their tracks. They exchanged knowing looks, making it clear that this was non-negotiable. Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting his cheeks from inside, then turned to face his fiancée with a deceptive sweetness in his tone.

"Of course, my love," he said.

He nodded to Namjoon, who immediately took off, glancing at Y/N with a silent reminder to behave.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly as if this were a perfectly normal scenario.

“I don’t know, do you think this is right?” Y/N kept her tone tense, signalling her discontent.

“Nothing is more right than this,” he answered, pouring himself a drink while taking her empty glass and refilling it with soju.

"Yoongi—" she began to protest, but he didn't let her speak further, having heard her excuses countless times.

“No Y/N. I’m not negotiating this time. We’re getting married tomorrow afternoon and that’s final,” he stated sternly.

"You could at least wait a day! Do you think everyone will just jump because you said it's happening right now? And more importantly, let me mentally prepare for it?!” Her frustration grew, and she gestured wildly, almost knocking over the refilled glass that Yoongi handed her.

“They are already in town. The telegraph is just a confirmation that it will happen tomorrow.” Her distress and panic were understandable; she had believed she had more time than a few hours.

“And you didn’t think of telling me first?!” she raised her voice even higher. That she was in distress and panic was very understandable. Y/N thought she had more time than a few hours.

“No, because you were finally letting me in—” said he, downing the contents of his glass in one go.

“You knew this would happen for a month, and you would have had more time to prepare yourself if running away fifteen hundred times a day wouldn’t be on your mind,” he fired back, raising his voice at her, and immediately asserting dominance.

"I'm getting very tired of this. One step forward and ten million miles back, damn it!" he cursed, slamming the glass down on his desk in frustration. The tension in the room was palpable, and Y/N felt her heart sinking as she realized that her hopes of a slower pace for their relationship had been shattered.

“I have a very easy solution to that—” she said, raising herself to stand up to him.

“—Let me go,” she emphasized every single word, her frustration boiling over, and momentarily forgetting about her deal with Namjoon.

Her emotions were running high, and she went to pull the ring off to prove her point, but he forcefully grabbed her right hand, stopping her in her tracks. Anger filled his eyes as he crossed his other hand, grabbed her by the back of her neck, and crashed his lips onto hers, pressing their bodies against the nearest wall. He didn't give her a chance to catch her breath as he passionately bruised her lips.

He let go of her hand once he was sure she wouldn't resist. With his now free hand, he lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist, squeezing her ass cheek, making her yelp and by that creating an opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. Y/N had no idea how long their intimate encounter lasted, but she could feel her head spinning from the lack of oxygen. Just as she managed to stop his other hand from slipping under her dress, aiming for her pulsing heat, he parted from her, both of them breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he apologised, his eyes fixed on her now swollen lips. Y/N was taken aback, her head still spinning, and she couldn't think straight. He had such a powerful effect on her, and this aspect of life was entirely new to her, having been kept away from such experiences.

"I wish, —" he started, nibbling at her lower lip while he continued to speak, "—you would acknowledge my love for you." Yoongi kissed her again, not giving her a chance to recover or speak up, moaning softly into her lips.

"We are too close. I will never give you up.” he declared, wiping her tears away gently.

“I can’t have you running though—” he leaned into lavish attention on her neck, placing butterfly kisses up to her jaw and stopping at her lips again—

"I'll overlook this lapse of senses if you keep up this good behaviour, my love, but the next time you disobey me, I won't only discipline you; someone will lose their head.”

She trembled against him, feeling lost, scared, and vulnerable. Her breath hitched as she tried to speak up. Yoongi was beyond himself for getting her into this state where she didn’t dare to oppose his words and stopped fighting him. If she won’t let him in willingly, he will force her to open up to him.

“I told you to not take that ring off your finger ever again.” She remembers the words he uttered to her in the garden where he proposed to her. That she agreed still feels surreal to her. Running got her nowhere, but she still had a selfish feeling inside her that he was bluffing and wouldn’t dare to seriously hurt anybody.

“Now be a good girl and apologise for disobeying me.” He tightened his grip at her waist, finally staring right into her teary eyes. Y/N felt lost, scared and vulnerable. Her lips were trembling, and her breath hitched again once she opened her mouth to speak.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, just say it.” He cooed, lifting his hand to caress her cheek gently.

“I-I am sorry,” she finally sobbed. If there was one thing the scarred boy excelled at, it was getting his way. He smiled at her, pleased with her response.

He smiled at her. “That’s more like it, baby.”

Y/N longed to curl up in her small apartment, where she resided while studying at college. She desperately wished she could turn back time.

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, looking for any sign of curiosity from her. Yoongi stepped away to his desk, leaving her pressed against the wall, hesitant to move an inch. He opened one of his drawers and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn't make out the handwriting, but her eyes widened as she recognised it.

“Your aunt entrusted me with this letter when we came to the conclusion that you should be mine one day,” he said, holding the envelope in his hands. Y/N desperately wished that the answer and a solution to her fears would be contained in that envelope. She was mulling over the platform of this match-making her aunt orchestrated.

Wang Xiaoqing very much upheld the meaning of her name in the time she lived. Blessed with intelligence. And she was a fearless mafia wife who brought pride to her late husband. There are other intriguing things about Y/N’s beloved auntie. Xiaoqing is by far the only member in her large family tree that married for love. Y/N admired her aunt and, perhaps, seeing that it was possible to marry for love, made her blindly believe she could also have the freedom to choose her partner.

She dreamt of a little house in the woods, not far from a lake or a small town. Growing some goods in the garden, by night sitting near the fireplace, the love of her life holding her. She would work in a nearby hospital, or study overseas to become a doctor were all part of her fever dream. She knew it was unlikely to come true, given her family's ties to the syndicate.

But she could least dream about it. For a moment, when she was on the ferry to Jeju Island, she thought she would make it. Y/N knew the risk she was taking once she entrusted her well-being to Chan-yeol. She knew his role was insignificant and not a threat to any syndicate and it wouldn’t certainly attract Yakuza, but she was also aware that he could have been the only one to send her to the far land. She believed that God chose this path for her instead of being an arm jewel to some Yakuza brute.

Reality snapped her back from her swirling thoughts as he put the envelope back in the drawer.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, taking a step forward.

“I will give it to you—” he promised “and tell you everything you want to know—” locking the drawer with a key.

“—After you’ll walk the aisle to me, without any of your misfits,” he finished his sentence.

"To strengthen your cooperation for tomorrow, I'm having your cousin and her husband at gunpoint during the ceremony," he added, making her scream in protest.

"I won't do anything stupid," she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just let them be, please. They have little son, Yoongi.”

“I know, that’s why they are the perfect bargain to make you obedient. If this doesn't work, you still have other family members—," Y/N couldn't bear it any longer; she closed the distance between them, standing just inches away from him.

“If you would love me—” she started but before she could finish, he grabbed her waist and pulled her even closer, pressing his body against hers. She could feel his torso and lower body. He bowed down next to her ear.

“I’ll stop this necessary coercion when you’ll learn your place, my love.”

Yoongi loved making her squirm and overwhelm her. He was basking in the effect he had on her. The fact that she will be his wife in less than twelve hours was a source of satisfaction for him.

“You were my woman for a long time now, and you will be my woman till death do us apart.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“—And you’re certain that the man is on his way to Seoul.” The leader inquired of his trusted friend and partner, seated in the quiet confines of his home office.

“Yes,” Hoseok affirmed with a nod.

"Is there any additional information that I need to be aware of?” Yoongi's voice carried a hint of tension, his teeth gritted in anger.

"As of now, there's nothing more to report," the younger male replied, keeping the conversation concise.

“Do you want me to eliminate him?” Hoseok offered, waiting for his leader's command.

“Not just yet, I was hoping to have the pleasure myself.”

to be continued

author’s note: so here we are at chapter IV!! ♥ Thank you all so much for for sticking around chummers ♥ They kissed and much moreee!!! We'll see what we'll happen next. I hereby promise to post the chapter sooner than the end of Semptember, or I hope so xD Tho I have some wips to write and if I'll finish some then I'll post something new too ♥

Massive shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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[deceitfuldevout]

Mercy (Part 2)

Dark!Tommy Shelby x Enemy!Reader

Word Count: +3,576

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Kidnapping, Hostage situation, Manhandling, Mind break, Threats of violence, Murder, Mentions of past character death, Gore, Physical violence, Forced intrusion, Humiliation.

Author's note(s): Going to try and write more. Been a busy bee recently.

Tommy knew your parents would be looking for you. He needed to bring you somewhere no one would suspect. Not even his family. They'd given him space to mourn for Ruby. As they all did. Tommy had kept them oblivious to the underground war. This was between him and your clan. He owns a plot of land near the countryside. It's half an hour away from the city, far enough so that no one would follow.

He used to bring the children out here during the summer. What was once a special place in his heart, became a haunting reminder of what life could've been. He would've kept you in town had it not been for the constant eyes and ears. For now, it was best that you'd stay here until he's sorted everything out. It was decided, this would be your new home until further notice. But he doesn't want to make this comfortable in any way. You weren't a hostage--no, his property.

He can do whatever the fuck he pleases, because this version of Tommy, had no limitations. He clicks the trunk open, reaches in to grab your quivering form. He drags you out of the car, hauling your weak body over his shoulder. He effortlessly carries you to the hideout. It's a small shed, located right in the backyard of his summer home. Tommy kicks the door open. Almost ripping it from the hinges. As soon as you were inside he lets you fall with a 'thud'. Your head is throbbing. You couldn't see anything in the darkness. Only the silhouette of the man who had taken you.

As soon as you spot the gangster, the first thing you do is crawl back, holding both hands in front, and plead, "Please...please let me go, I-I promise I won't tell...j-just--please," your throat was sore from the hours of screaming, crying, begging for mercy. Your pleas were deaf to Tommy's ears. He stands there, stating back at your quivering form. There wasn't an ounce left in him that felt bad. To him, you were only collateral. An eye for an eye.

His presence is enough to intimidate anyone. You don't bother looking at him in the eyes, afraid of being trapped under his gaze. There are two rules you were taught about gangsters: The first rule was to never go near one, the second was to never look one in the eyes. Not unless you were looking for a fight.

He steps forward, enjoying the sight of you cowering in fear. His eyes are as cold as ice You sob, "P-please god..."

Tommy raises his brows, “God?” he scoffs, “You think it was him that led you here?” he shook his head, "No, it was me, I ordered them to take you, because I can," a long pause follows, "You were picked up from church, yeah? So tell me, what did you pray for?"

"T-to...to find a good man," your teeth chatter. His grin doesn't reach his eyes, "And that led you to me," he chuckles. Your parents kept you sheltered from the big-bad gangsters of the city. But little did you know you were raised by one. The irony of it all. Poor thing, you never imagined being taken, especially not by someone like himself.

He crouches down, "Tell me...what will you pray for now, hm? For someone to save you?" he taunts. His hand hovers to your collar, wrapping itself around your neck. He gives it a slight squeeze, "Tell me, what will you do if I were to bend you over right now?"

Tommy wants to break you. He wants to break your mind, your body, your soul. He wants to break the little faith you have left, and from that he'll build you to his liking. You would be his obedient pet. You answer, "Nothing..." blinking back tears. His thumb swipes a tear, "Good, you're a fast learner," he pats your head, brushing a few strands from your face.

He wants to make it clear, "I own your body now, I own you," he stands up, "From now on this will be your new home, you can forget about your old life," he then retrieves his watch, inspecting the time. He shuts it, shoving it into his coat pocket before leaving. Tommy ignores your cries, "Please...don't leave me here! Mr. Shelby! Please!"

Even in your condition, you still manage to limp. You try to reach for the door. Before you could make it, Tommy slams it shut. He locks it from the other side. Both your fists bang at the door, "I've done nothing wrong! Please! Don't leave me here!" falling against it as a deep sob escapes your throat. Tommy knows it was useless to yell. There would be no one from miles around.

Tommy and his men left for the city. When he spots a river on the roadside. He decides that now would be the best time to confront them. See, nothing with Tommy Shelby was a mere coincidence. He had chosen these men specifically, after finding out they'd stolen from his company. So, he makes it work in his favor. Two birds with one stone.

Tommy had been waiting for the right moment to finish off the traitors. First he orders them take the girl, then he'll take out those thieving bastards. Any witness statements would be useless with Tommy left as the only living suspect. All for a crime that may or may not have occurred. According to his story, Tommy had been in the office at the time of your disappearance. No one else could object to that. He knows that his family would be there to defend him.

He orders his men to park on the side of the road for a quick smoke break. He made sure to count how many of them had exited the vehicle. He doesn't light up his cigarette until he's sure all them were present. Only then does he lights up his cigarette. He distracts them with a tale. All of the men now rest on the side of the road. One of the men jokes about how they should share Tommy's new pet.

He doesn't take too kindly to that idea. It was at that moment when he returns to the car. When the men least expect it, he fires a round of stray bullets. He stares coldly as their lifeless bodies drop to the floor. Tommy dumps them into the river, returning to the city alone.

He made sure to avoid any suspicion by returning to his office. Acting as if nothing had happened. Word will spread, and the last thing he needs is his family breathing down his neck. He rummages through the office, finding any work to complete. As soon as he sits down, he can't help but smile. He thinks about how easy it was to bend you into submission. Had your parents really not prepare you for this?

Tommy remembers your first ever encounter. It was in your father's office just a few months ago. You unknowingly barged into the room with a tray in hand. Completely oblivious to what was happening. You were only focused on serving the men tea. A word he would use to describe you is obedient, submissive. Something he wouldn't mind having a taste of.

As soon as your father spots you, he halts everything. He cuts the meeting short to drag you out. No daughter of his would be caught in the same room as a gangster. He'll be damned if he lets a dirty peaky near her. Poor thing, you assumed it was your fault. Barging in while the men were at work, completely oblivious to the true nature of their meetup. He swore you were taunting him with that innocent look.

You still thought he, Tommy Shelby, was worth saving. You begged him not to do it, as if he were some fucking saint. That made it all the more worthwhile as he filled your cunt to the brim. He fucked you full of his filthy gangster seed. Until there was a small puddle of cum and crimson dripping from both holes. He had left a trail of bruises that littered your unblemished skin. He bit, teased, and bruised wherever he could reach. Who was there to stop him?

Tommy palms the growing tent in his pants. He relishes in the remembrance. He could still feel your nails digging into his skin. On his wrist, all over his chest and back. How you tried to fend him off. But in the end it was useless. He's a former veteran and you're just a spoiled heiress. A hand grazes on the small cut on his cheek you'd given him earlier, he'll make sure you pay for that dearly.

He's going to enjoy feeling of your tight cunt again. How you were squeezing his girth, almost as if it were on purpose. Your choked sobs for him to stop, as he darted his tongue out to taste those fresh tears. When your whimpers would change depending on how fast and hard he'd thrust his hips. How his nails dug into the flesh of those soft, supple hips, leaving small crescent cuts. And oh, how he loved to hear you scream.

Your whimpers were music to his ears. Like a melody he wanted to play over and over again. Fuck…he'll have to plan another trip to the countryside, and soon. You gave him a sense of power, immunity. Something that Tommy hadn't felt in long time. Not since losing his Ruby. He became a shell of the man he once was. Never in his life had he felt so weak, so hopeless. Lost.

But now? Your parents won't even think about touching him. This would be a secret kept between him and the other clan. His family doesn't have to know. If your parents decide to try anything, he'll make sure to send them more than just a napkin.

You couldn't sleep that night. Despite each hour feeling longer than the next. How could you after what happened? You felt as though your sanity were slipping away. Most of the night would be spent either attempting to break the door open or crying to yourself. Both of your fists went numb from the hours spent slamming them against wood.  

There were visible blisters that littered your hands. Small droplets of crimson from the open wounds. Faint scratch marks decorate the door. It didn't help being the dead of winter, only adding more pain to your bruising. You wince from the cold, dry air seeping into the open wounds. Still, it wasn't comparable to what he had done. 

A deep feeling of dread starts to sink in. Suddenly realizing the weight of what had happened. You were kidnapped, assaulted, paraded by one of the worst criminals in all Birmingham. The worst part was it only took him a few hours to break you. That man, that...gangster, had taken your virginity. How on earth were you going to tell your parents? Did anyone else know? If so, it would ruin any chance of ever finding a good husband. This wasn't just any gangster, he's the worst of them all. A Peaky Blinder.  

You began to tear up. Something like this would break their hearts. There were many stories passed around of young women being victims of bridal kidnapping. They would escape their abductors and return home. Only to be sent back by their own family. These poor women would have no other choice but to marry their abductors. Although both of your parents were traditional, surely, they wouldn't do the same thing...would they? A wave of dread starts to flood your nerves. Deep down, you were too afraid to find out.  

You try switching positions until you find one that was comfortable enough to lay in. Now splayed against the cold hard ground. It hurts too much to sit up. Your throat is sore from the hours of abuse. You were much too tired to yell, the dreaded thought of his return consumed all senses. You could only sit in silence, trying your best not to think of anything to stop crying. A part of you was certain that there were no tears left in you to spill. 

Suddenly, the door opens. You scurry as far away from the entrance as possible. As soon as he enters there's a powerful aura in the air. He reeked of danger. You refuse to look at him, not out of defiance but out of fear. For the first time in your life, you were genuinely terrified. Your eyes are focused on the floor as your body crumples into submission. Each step he takes his powerful, echoing throughout the shed. His feet were settled on the spot where you were staring. There was something in his hand. You couldn’t tell what it was until he placed it on the ground.  

It was a plate of sludge-like food. Something that was half thought of, with a cup of water on the side. Your mouth starts to water at the sight. It had been almost two days since you’ve eaten anything. Tommy wanted to make sure you were still alive. Otherwise, the deal would be off with your parents. You could only focus on the plate on the floor, tuning everything else out. All attention went to the dish. He says something but you don't quite catch what it was.  

Suddenly a hand grips your hair, pulling it into a tight hold. You whine from the pain, both hands shooting up to where his wrist was. As much as you tried to pry his fingers off, it was futile trying to remove the iron hold. He's a retired soldier, a decorated war veteran. You were only an heiress, sheltered from all worldly dangers. You look up at him with pleading eyes, now sheer with fresh tears, "P-please..." begging for him to stop. His grip tightens, "What did I say about speaking?" your pained expression doesn't falter him, not one bit.  

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, so let me refresh your memory,” he tugs until you're forced to look him in the eyes. He growls, “I own you, mind, body, soul, every part,” he reaches for your neck, giving it a squeeze. He dips his fingers in your mouth, gripping the inside to pry it open, "This is mine to use," he pulls you up by the arm with little effort, his other hand finds its way in between both legs. When your hands try to shoo it away the grip around your neck tightens. He reaches in between your legs, rubbing up and down the clothed slit, "This cunt...mine,"  

You shook your head vigorously, tearing up at his remark. He clicks his tongue, "Sh...sh... that's not gonna help you," both his hand hold the sides of your head. It felt like you were suffocating in his embrace. He looks you in the eyes, “The life you once had is gone now,” which only twists the knife deeper, “I own you, every part of you,” his hands glide from your neck down to your bare shoulders.  

Tommy gives them a light shove, just enough to send you to your knees. His hands retreat to his belt, unfastening the buckle before letting his pants slide down. He wants to start training as soon as possible, “I’m going to break you...bend you in my own image,” Tommy doesn’t waste any time releasing his manhood from its bindings.

He tugs it a few times, enjoying the petrified look on your face. To say he enjoyed it was an understatement. Tommy took joy in watching you break. He couldn’t help but smirk as soon as the tears began to spill. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you to face his leaking member.  

He taps the tip of his cock against your cheek, enjoying the way you try to retreat. He pulls back his coat, revealing a gun resting in its holster. A warning of what would happen should you fight him. You shut your eyes, imagining being anywhere else but here. You force your lips to part. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He starts bucking his hips back and forth. He hisses, trying to find the right angle, "M'gonna cum...gonna shoot a fat load down your throat...want you to feel it in your fucking stomach,’  

Tommy fastens his pace, he’s close. So, fucking close. Hearing your muffled cries was music to his ears. Then it came, Tommy presses his cock deep inside, holding your head in place as he quickens his thrusts. Sweat collects on his forehead despite the cold weather. When he retrieves his cock a small trickle of cum and spit escapes. You cough out his spunk still trapped in your throat. A small puddle forms on the ground, right between his feet. He had been enjoying this a bit too much, "You'll have to practice on that mouth of yours," he teases.  

But that wasn’t the end of it, no. Shortly after Tommy decided that another round was due. Then another, and another. He ignored every muffled cry that escapes your lips. He wanted to paint you with it. No, he wants to drown you in his seed until you're thanking him.

Five, five rounds of Tommy fucking your mouth. Each round ending in him cumming on a new place. He had emptied load after load, making sure to paint you with it. There was spunk all over your hair and face. It was repulsing, being covered in a stranger's finish. After a while he lets you rest. When you notice him retrieving his discarded coat, you sigh with relief. It was finally over. Your emotions get the best of you, crying not from the abuse, but that it was finally over.

Then Tommy does the unimaginable. He strides over to your plate. Jerking off his cock before finishing the sixth round on the food. He tucks himself in now satisfied with the work done, "Eat up," he says before leaving you alone in the cold darkness. You of all people should know by now, Tommy's cruelness had no limits.

While you were gone, your home had changed for the worse. During the past few days, what was once a warm-felt home became a mourning ground. Your mother had spent most of her free time was at the window seat, praying for your return. What was once a home filled with laughter and joy became a cold reminder that you were gone. Taken from her safe arms. A part of her regrets ever leaving your side. If only she weren't so busy entertaining others. Then maybe her sweet girl would still be here.

She sniffles, pressing a hand against the cold glass. She blames herself for not looking after you, her pride and joy. Ever since you were taken, she had barely slept or eaten. It began to worry the maids, who then informed your father. She could still her you calling for her. It had been carved into her mind, and killed her not being able to do a thing about it. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? More tears spill, flowing down her cheeks.

Your father couldn't stand the sight of his dear wife's tears. He could barely sleep knowing that he was the reason behind it. All because of his lineage. He had tried his best at hiding a double life. He never wanted to drag his girls into this. Your father tried his best to hide it, he really did. Your mother was the preacher's daughter, who unknowingly married a gangster. Naïve and innocent to the evils of this world until she met him.

He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "Don't worry my diamond," wiping away the fresh tears, "I promise you, I'll bring our girl back..." he leaves her for his 'office', where the men await for his orders. Unlike his wife, he isn't as forgiving. He had gouged out an eye from the man in charge of keeping an eye on you. But after receiving Tommy's message, he made sure to plant a bullet right in between the man's empty sockets.

If it's a war the Shelby brother wants, it's a war he'll have.

After washing the blood from his hands and face, he makes his way to the bedroom. His wife is still perched on the seat of the window frame, staring longingly outside. He accompanies her, now sat besides her. He's guilt ridden. She whispers something he doesn't quite catch, until another mumble escapes her lips, "My fault..." 

how? How on earth could someone as precious as his diamond do any wrong?

"I c-can't forgive myself for--"

"No, no my love, this isn't your fault..." He pulls her into his arms, rubbing small circles into her back. He wipes the tears from her cheeks, holding her closely. He'll tear this city apart if it meant finding you. This is a city plagued and ruled by gangsters. You of all people didn't deserve it and he has only himself to blame. Whatever that sick bastard had done he promise to do worse. Until he's begging to be put out of his misery.

But what the mobster doesn't know, is that Tommy Shelby yearns for sweet death.