#and the fact that this is a part one?! so there’s at least two weeks of this?!

[bookyeom]

campfire - bsk

pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."

Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 

Yours. Right. It was your idea. 

You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.

The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 

Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 

"Did that hurt?" 

You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 

You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.

“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”

He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”

Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”

“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”

That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”

You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”

“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”

You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”

You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 

A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?

The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.

“I’ll help them.”

You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 

“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”

“Seungkwan…” 

He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.

Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 

“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 

Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”

You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”

Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”

You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”

He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”

“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”

Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”

“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 

You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”

His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 

Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“

“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 

Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”

“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 

You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.

“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”

Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”

“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”

Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.

“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 

“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo

[killerlookz]

Growing Pains | Spencer Reid

pairing: s2!spencer reid x gn! reader

description: after spending what felt like an eternity pining over Spencer Reid, the two of you finally began moving towards becoming something... until his run-in with Tobias Hankel seemed to put a stop to every aspect of Spencer's life, even his relationship with you.

details: Spencer's post-revelations related trauma, angst! and fluff (hurt with comfort), sporadic flashbacks

word count: 2,321

i hate that i can't love you, but I'm just in the way / but you say i won't be here forever, and you'll take as long as it takes

Your cold hands ached as they struggled to make a fist, raising that balled-up hand to the dark, wooded door.

Every day for the last week and a half you'd come to this very door, that of your friend, Spencer Reid. And every day for the last week and a half you would knock on the door and hope with anxious breaths for an answer. Only to receive no response.

Part of you would worry he was dead if it wasn't for the fact that at the very least he had managed to at least call out of work each and every day. It was so typical of Spencer ,it almost made you smile. Even after all of the trauma he had just gone through, he still made sure to call out of work. No one expected to see him back at the BAU for a while. Not after Tobias Hankel.

Despite all too much of it having been live-streamed directly to you and the rest of the BAU, you knew very little of what had actually happened to Spencer in the time he had been taken by Tobias Hankel, nobody did. And the truth is, you barely knew of what was live-streamed. Maybe it made you "weak" in comparison to the rest of the team, but you just couldn't bear to look at Spencer in that state. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to live was already too much to handle- even now, knowing he was safe, you still had trouble sleeping, the scenario of having not made it in time playing through your mind over and over again.

Knock, knock, knock

You held your breath in anticipation as your hands hit the door, you bit your lip in a painful desperation. Please, Spencer. You beg, your voice cracking as you whisper to yourself.

No response.

It wasn't like Spencer to not talk to you, especially not for days on end. The two of you had been friends since the academy. You were instantly drawn to him, maybe it was his impressive memory, or how passionate he was about his work, maybe it was his awkward boyish charm, or his sweet smile, or how his eyes lit up when he won a game of chess or cards, and the way he scrunched his nose whenever he laughed, maybe it was the way his sweaters never fit just right, and his socks never matched, or-

It was more than sufficient to say that you had fallen head over heels for Spencer, more than you had for anyone else in your life, you were in love. He was kind, and inviting, and you could never understand why everyone else seemed to make fun of him. And finally after what felt like an eternity of pining, and planning for the perfect moment- a french film marathon at Spencer's apartment and a few too many glasses of cheap wine was what let your feelings slip. You could still feel the way your stomach dropped as the words left your tongue,

"You know I love you, Spence"

"Yeah- like- as a friend." He stuttered, obviously caught off guard

You could have saved yourself then, played it cool, and said yes, but before you could stop yourself your head was shaking no.

Spencer's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile, "Really?" He looks down at his lap, his fingers rapidly tapping against his knee, "I- wow- I-" He shakes his head and looks back at you, "I love you too."

With a few blinks you find yourself back in reality. You could only live in memories for so long. You sighed, as tears welled up in your eyes. Part of you wondered if you were being selfish, crying about how you missed him when he was going through so much worse.

You wiped your stinging eyes, fuck it. You needed to know how he was doing. You reach into the pocket of your coat, feeling around before gripping the cool metal of your key ring. You pull it out of your pocket before gripping the keys that hung from it tightly in your hands. The dull metal pressed into the skin of your hands, and your cold, stiff fingers gripped harder to the point where it hurt. You closed your eyes, wincing as you tightened your fist around the metal even harder, trying to convince yourself to go through with your plan. At some point of you and Spencer "going steady" you had exchanged keys to each other's apartments.

You released the key ring from your grip, a red indent left in the palm of your aching hand. You sift through the various keys and with a loud jingling sound, the other keys fell to the bottom of the ring as you gripped the key to Spencer's apartment between your thumb and index finger. You sigh once more, telling yourself the worst that could happen is if he really doesn't want to see you he will tell you to leave and you will listen.

You push the key into the lock and twist it until you can turn the door handle. The door opens with a creak, and you step into the dark apartment, careful to close the door softly behind you. You can barely see two feet in front of you, all the lights are off and the blinds are drawn. Your hand slides up a wall as you fumble around for a light switch, flicking on the soft, warm wall light next to the door. You blink a few times, getting used to the light before your gaze darts over to the kitchen table. The apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was cluttered to a degree that you had never seen from Spencer before. He was usually so well organized. But now, papers, takeout containers, and half-drunken cups of coffee were scattered around the dark wooden surface.

It broke your heart to see Spencer's living spaces in such disarray, if this is what his apartment looked like, you couldn't even bear to think about what you might find if you were to peek inside his mind. Even with the lights now on, the dark green walls of the apartment never felt this dark to you.

You tread softly toward his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise against the creaky wood of his apartment floor. Part of you was aware of how creepy this seemed- and you worried maybe you'd scare Spencer by entering his room. Still- maybe it was selfish, but you missed him too much to allow another day go by without seeing him. Allowing Spencer to just stay holed up in his apartment for days on end was not going to do anything for anyone.

You press your hand against Spencer's bedroom door, it's opened just a crack and you're able to push the door open with a small creak. The room isn't as dark as the rest of his apartment, a few small beams of light from the setting sun peek into the small room from blinds that haven't been fully closed, drenching it with a warm orange color.

Spener's clothes are scattered throughout the room, and his brown leather bag had been thrown on the ground near the door, papers and books spilling out of it. You could almost guarantee it had been in that spot from the moment he got home from that dreaded case.

Your eyes flick up to the bed in the middle of the room where Spencer lay, his face down, stuffed into the pillows. His comforter had been kicked to the side, and the fitted sheet had come off one of the corners of the mattress.

You wondered just how much Spencer had actually left his bed since he had gotten home, the takeout containers and coffee cups in the dining room signified to you at least he did at some point leave his bedroom. Still, the sorry state of everything made you want to cry. How could anyone do this to him?

You slip off your shoes, and inch across the soft carpet closer to the bed, careful not to step on any of the clothes that were strewn about the floor.

"Spencer," You say, just above a whisper, attempting to let him know of your presence. He barely even stirs in response to the noise, turning onto his side deep in sleep.

As you got closer to the bed you could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess, long curly strands stuck to his cheeks with sweat, his eyes shut tight and his mouth almost turned down into a frown. Even in sleep, he looked so upset, so tortured. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about what he could have been dreaming about.

"Spencer?" You say again, weaker this time- your voice trembling with nerves.

No response.

You sigh, pulling off your jacket and allowing it to collect on the floor with the rest of the scattered clothes. You sit down on the edge of the bed and think carefully about your next move. You don't want to frighten him, but it may be impossible not to not after you basically broke in.

You reach a delicate hand outward and move a couple pieces of Spencer's hair from his cheek. His head moves slightly in response, but you continue to smooth your hand down the rest of the length of his hair. You can tell it's tangled, even without combing your fingers through it. You let your hand fall further, down his neck, resting on his bare back. He's warm to the touch as you rub soft circles on the exposed skin.

"Spencer?" You say again, louder this time leaning your body towards him.

His eyes flick open and he's jolted awake, swatting your arm away as a gasp leaves his mouth.

"H-hey," You grab his arm to prevent him from swinging any further, "It's just me Spence."

He stares at you wide-eyed, pupils dilated with a mix of confusion and fear. His throat rises with a thick swallow and his lip trembles. You begin speaking frantically,

"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fright-"

"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice is weak but there's a pointedness to his question.

"I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay- I haven't heard from you in a while and I was so worried about you I just-" Your brain was going a mile a minute before all of a sudden... your train of thought disappears as you look into Spencer's obviously pained eyes. His eyes blink rapidly as he attempts to hold back tears. The sheets have fallen off of him and his bare chest is shiny with sweat as it rises and falls rapidly. You let go of his arm, letting it drop down beside him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, too saddened at the state of him to continue.

Spencer stares at you for another moment before looking down, a single tear dripping down his pale cheek. Even now, like this he was still beautiful to you. And despite everything you couldn't help but for your heart to fill with love. But as your heart felt with love, the rest of your body overflowed with anxiety as you contemplated what to even do or say next. You stutter,

"D-do you want me to leave-"

"No." Spencer cuts you off. "Stay." He looks back up at you, "Please." His eyes are wet with tears that threaten to escape down his face.

"Of course," You nod, "of course," softer this time.

"Can we lay down?" Spencer asks, twisting his face. You nod fervently, swinging your legs onto the bed. You pat the pillow next to you, beckoning Spencer to lie back down. He does so, slowly, and you follow, your faces inches from each other, heads on the same pillow.

You inch yourself closer to Spencer, heat radiating off of his trembling body. You place a hand upon his cheek, stroking your thumb slowly back and forth.

"Am I ever going to be okay?" Spencer sniffles. The question feels like a knife had been stabbed right through your heart.

"Of course you will, Spence, " You assure, soft yet firm.

"It doesn't feel like it," He shakes his head, forcing your hand to fall from its spot on his cheek.

"These things take time, lots and lots of time."

"Yeah but-" He starts, getting choked up again, "What if you don't want to wait for me?"

"Wait for you?" You ask, confused as to what he meant.

"If I'm like this for too long." He answers, "You won't want to be around anymore."

"Oh Spencer," you shake your head, "No, no" You put your hand back onto his cheek.

"I feel like such a burden- that's why I haven't called," His voice breaks as he starts crying, really crying this time, "I mean- I'm an FBI agent, I should be able to get through this. Everyone else on the team would be back to work in an instant. And I can't even get out of bed."

"Spencer." You cut off his ramblings, "You are not a burden- you could have died, Spencer, no one is expecting you to be alright."

"I feel like I should be." He pauses, "I just don't want everyone to sit around worrying about me, I don't want you to sit around worrying about me. It's not fair."

"I worry because I care." You relay a small smile, "Because I love you."

"And that's what I'm afraid of, one day you'll realize you've spent so much effort worrying about me that you won't want to love me anymore."

"Never." You wipe the tears from Spencer's eyes, trying to give him gentle reassurance. "I'd wait forever for you to be okay."

a/n: woah long time no post? I haven't posted a fic on here in almost two years! sorry I'm a little rusty, I've been deeeep in a creative rut. I'm accepting requests now however, Ive missed you guys!

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 3)

A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 

Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 

He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 

The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 

However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 

“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”

It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 

“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”

Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.

“What about Y/N?” he asks.

“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.

She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?

And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.

It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 

But nothing more. 

“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 

“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.

“Yeah. What is it called?”

Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.

“Night Changes.”

The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 

Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 

Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.

For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 

It’s an unknown territory for sure. 

When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.

Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…

Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.

And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.

Him.

They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.

Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 

It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 

Twice since then. 

And now they are going at it again. 

“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 

“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 

They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 

“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.

“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 

“You thought about me fucking you all day?”

To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.

“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 

They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 

They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 

“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.

“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”

Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 

“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 

“Alright. I’ll text you then.”

Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 

When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.

“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”

“Uh… you know, we just…”

Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.

“No way.”

“What?” Harry laughs.

“For real?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and… you and Y/N?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.

“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”

“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”

“But it is something, right? What is it?”

Harry once again just stays silent.

“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”

“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 

“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”

“I told you, it’s nothing o–”

“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”

Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 

“I just… I like her. A lot.”

“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”

“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 

“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”

Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.

“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.

“And now you’re falling for her again?”

“I might be,” he nods.

The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 

Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…

It feels so amazing.

Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 

When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 

But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.

“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.

“Ah, no need, I can just–”

“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 

The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.

“Everything alright?”

She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 

“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”

“Like, they want more music from you?”

“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”

Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 

“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.

“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 

She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 

He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 

He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 

She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.

He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 

HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 

He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 

The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.

Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.

Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.

HARRY: I’m going over.

He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 

When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 

She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.

“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”

“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”

With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.

“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.

“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 

“What? When?” 

Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 

“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 

Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 

“Did anything go missing?”

“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”

“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”

“Everything. I checked everything.”

Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 

When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 

“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 

“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”

“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”

And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 

For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 

He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 

“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 

He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 

It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.

“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.

“Can I… sleep with you?”

Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 

“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 

He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.

“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”

She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 

“Alright, then I’ll…” 

He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 

They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.

“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”

“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”

And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[acaaai-t]

thinking about…

stranger! xiao whom you encountered through a unexpected bank robbery one sunny afternoon. It definitely was love at first sight for you, especially after he had tackled you— a mere stranger to him at the moment— down to shield you from the stray bullets being fired. It was chaos amidst the environment, but all you could think about was how close he was to you… archons he’s pretty.

stranger! xiao whom you practically had to chase after after the entire ordeal just to get his contact information. He had first denied your approach, but you just seemed far too determined to give up so easily. “Sir please,” you begged. “You quite literally saved my life back there, the least I can do is repay you with something.” … “Fine.”

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！

companion! xiao who has a grumpy face on at all times no matter the situation. You had invited him out for lunch as a way to thank him for his heroic act couple days ago, and this would be your chance to properly introduce yourself to him. The weather was near perfect today with the temperature hanging around in the low 70’s (20°C) and the skies cleared of clouds. His intimidating expression was also enough to make you nervous, but you pushed through. “Hi! My name is [name], what’s yours?” … “… Xiao.”

companion! xiao who you took out on a little amusement park hangout on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon. You hadn’t been to one in forever, and considering the fact that both of you had nothing better to do today, you dragged Xiao out with you.

companion! xiao who went near deaf after agreeing to go on a rollercoaster with you— which was a poor choice. The ride was exhilarating, but if you hadn’t been screaming bloody murder throughout the entire ride, it might’ve been a better experience. “I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, hands clasped together in a praying motion. Xiao didn’t say anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. As an add-on to your apology, you treated him to a plate of almond tofu. Yeah no, he forgives you.

companion! xiao who gets an unwanted feeling of annoyance when he sees you occupied with someone else other than him. A stranger had stopped you to ask for direction to the nearest bathroom, and being the kind hearted soul you are, pointed to the map and gave the path to his destination. Too close, he thought. What? Why was he feeling like this? Is this what people called jealousy?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！

Xiao is in denial. He’s only known you for a month or two now, and feelings are beginning to worm its way into his heart. Unwarranted feelings that he wants no part of— yet it’s constantly in the back of his mind. You’re always on his mind. He can’t get you out, no matter what.

Your smile, your laugh, your mesmerizing beauty…

Archons, what is he meant to do now?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！

lover! xiao who wrestled with his feelings for weeks on end before finally caving in to it. You were blabbering on about some drama unfolding at your workplace at a cafe he’d invited you out to when all of a sudden he stopped you. He couldn’t even pay attention to your words, for all he could do was stare at your lips moving. “Is there something wrong with my face?” you asked, fingers dragging across your cheeks. Xiao was quick to answer, giving a hasty ‘no’.

lover! xiao who kept stuttering his words when confessing his feelings to you. The sun had begun to set, and you had brought him to a secluded area of the woods, where there was a near perfect view of the sunset. Your heart was pounding so heavily against your chest— it felt like it could burst out at any moment. Although Xiao looked more of a hot mess than you did; his face crimson red.

“I.. I like— archons. Oh fuck it [name] I like you. Not as in just friends if you understand, you know what I mean right? No, it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back like—”

lover! xiao who you had to shut up with a kiss to his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to you. He seemed to had to take a moment to register what had just happened, and when it did finally process, he kissed back— hard. Is he dreaming?

just lover! xiao being the epitome of you fell first but he fell harder.

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！！

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— more xiao content coming soon

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

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[enwoso]

ON EDGE - ella toone

a little bit suggestive content!

ella was on edge. she had been a nervous reck all week, ever since she found out that this was the weekend that she was going to be meeting your family for the first time. she was trying to downplay it by saying that she wasn't nervous but you could see straight through that false persona she was acting out.

you had met ella's family, a few months into you and ella dating — it being after one of the derby games and considering they lived in manchester and the pair of you were playing for united well let's just say you had clicked very fast.

you were nervous the first time you met her family — it was a normal thing so you totally understood why she was acting the way she was.

you had the job all week of constantly assuring ella that she had nothing to worry about, your parents had heard all about ella — they felt as if they already knew everything about the brunette without even fully meeting the girl properly.

hearing the way you talk about the girl and how much adored her, and all the small little cute things ella would do for you to make you feel like the most special girl in the world. they had heard it all and to point out the obvious your whole family were also football fans so at least you would all have something to talk about over dinner.

your also had two brothers, tommy who was the oldest out the three of you by 2 years always trying to take the role of being the boss and then there was your younger brother lewis who had just turned 19 and behind you was probably the biggest football fan in the family.

your brothers both didn't and refused to believe you at first when you said that you were signing for united they thought you were just playing into the silly rumours that the transfer pages were spreading about you at the time.

even after the multiple instagram posts on the united's official instagram page with you being in the official kit they for some reason wouldn't believe you. you knew they were just doing it to wind you up and it was times like those that made you really wish you were an only child.

your mum and dad — specifically your mum who you were adamant was more excited to finally meet ella in person then she was to see her own daughter.

ever since you let it slip that you had a girlfriend over the phone just a few weeks into your relationship with ella, you had been bombarded with messages from both parents asking when they would finally meet her in person.

you on the other hand were excited for your two worlds to finally meet not having seen your parents in 3 months since they were last able to find the time to get down to manchester to watch you play as they lived in london

which did make it difficult for them to watch but you knew they were always your biggest supporter weather they were in attendance or not.

you had been waiting for this day to come for what felt like years having to reschedule many times due to last minutes meetings, training camps, match days or press days it had become quite difficult to even set out a day and part of you at one point was convinced it would never happen.

you wanted your parents to meet ella properly and not on the side of a pitch in the porting rain while you both looked tired and longed for nothing but a warm shower.

so when the idea of your family finding a few spare days where they were able to come up and stay with you and your beloved girlfriend and even the plus side of watching you play again in person seemed like the perfect way.

after just getting out of the shower, you were drying your hair as the door of your shared room flung open as ella waltzed in and you could tell her mind was racing.

"what's wrong, darling?" you asked turning the hair dryer off, and swinging around in the vanity chair to face ella who had flopped down on the bed face first, letting a huge dramatic sigh out.

"nothin'" she mumbled out, it being blurred out by the fact she was talking into the bed sheets. a small giggle left your lips at the sight of her dramatics.

"love c'mon, your gonna be fine!" you said moving the chair closer to the bed, pulling at her ankles to pull ella down the bed as she groaned trying to move back up the bed.

ella turned over onto her back, "i am fine, i'm cool, calm and collected!" she sat up and flashed you a smile before crashing back into the sheets her hands going up to cover her face, a loud groan coming from her as she did so.

"so which one was that cool, calm or collected?" you joked earning yourself a roll of the eyes from the brunette as you moved off the chair and onto your shared bed lying down next to ella.

a big huff was heard from beside you as her hands dropped from her face and turned her head to you, "i've decided i can't meet your parents" ella says talking quicker then you can comprehend what she is actually saying — here we go again.

"what? why this time?" you ask, this being the hundredth time it felt that she was trying to get out of meeting your family.

"i just can't, i'll just say up here and you can tell them i'm-" footballers these days not only dramatic on the pitch but even more dramatic off the pitch and over the smallest of things ever.

you cut her off, "els! baby you'll be fine they love you already and they haven't even met you properly, plus i don't think my mum will be happy if she turns up and your not here with me — she more excited to see you then she is me!" you told her as a small smile crept onto her face.

"she is?" she asks, seeming surprised by you saying that.

"yes! every message i get from her always involves your name too — how are you and ella, don't forget to tell ella i said hi all that jazz, half the time she doesn’t even ask about me!" you said telling her only a few of the messages your received on the daily from your mum.

it sometimes amazes you how she can be so calm over playing a match in front of thousands of people but then can go to acting like a scared child over meeting your parents.

"oh.." she mumbled that seemingly put some ease to her nerves.

a silence crept over the two of you as your wrapped your arm over ella's waist, "what?" you asked feeling ella's eyes staring at you.

"nothin’ you just look pretty" she shook her head, rolling over so that she hovered over you looking at you with nothing but adoration even if your hair was half dry and half wet in ella's eyes you always looked beautiful.

a small giggle left your lips as you hummed in response your eyebrows lifting a little, "wait a second" ella said still hovering over you this time a little closer to your face.

"why?"

"i just need-" she cut herself off by closing the distance between the two of you, pressing you a little deeper into the white sheets as her lips locked with yours delivering a bruisingly passionate kiss. "-to do this" the brunette breathed out finishing her sentence while giving you a moment to catch your breathe.

just as her hand gripped your jaw and tugged your mouth to meet hers again. you couldn't help but moan into her mouth as she pressed her body closer to yours her knee pressing teasingly into you as she slipped her tongue in and swirled it around.

the midfielder knowing exactly how to rile you up as she sucked down hard on your bottom lip as your head pressed into the bed further with a beefy whine.

not even giving you a moment to process anything she pulled away and lips instead began to move down towards your neck pressing small and soft kisses as she did so.

her affections were clearly needy and messy as her fingers snuck up the inside of your t-shirt, her strong hands flattening against the bare skin and pushing you harder into the bed so she felt your and contract and tense under her every touch.

"els-" you mumbled out against her lips pulling away from her as best you could, "i need to finish getting ready" you said as ella pulled away resting her head on your shoulder.

"can we not just stay like this" she asks as she wraps her arms around your waist holding you tight as she places a small kiss behind your ear.

"as much as i would love too, me and you both know we can't" you smile kissing her forehead as she lifts up off you as you stood up to go back to drying your hair before it became too frizzy knowing it wouldn't be long until your parents and brothers would be here.

"wait, love-" ella began but before you even gave her a chance to get her worry out you stopped her.

"love, stop stressing. i'm not feeding you to the lions i'm gonna be there with you, holding your hand if you want me too!" you teased reaching over to squeeze her knee in reassurance as you got back to doing what you were previously doing beforehand.

as ella whispered that she was going to watch tv downstairs, placing a kiss to your cheek before leaving you to get ready in peace.

after getting ready you went downstairs to find ella sat on the couch her leg bouncing up and down, flinching at any sudden movement thinking it was the sound of the door.

when there was a knock at the door, she jumped up following you to the door like a little lost puppy

"oh thank god this is your house!" your brother sighed with relief walking straight into your home, not saying hello to you but instead making sure to introduce themselves to your girlfriend — at this point you were sure they had only come to see her. you could leave in that moment and they probably wouldn't even notice.

"hi tommy!" you said blankly, watching as he walked down your hallway throwing his arm up at an attempt to wave, you turning your attention to your parents and younger brother who had his headphones in looking down at his phone probably not even realising that you had opened the door.

moving out the way for your parents to be able to walk in the door with there luggage, which you just moved to one side. "hi mum" you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

"oh my little girl, you look so grown up! manchester must be treating you well!" her smile couldn't get any bigger seeing her daughter follow her dreams and to be living happy was truly beautiful to her.

"hi dad!" you greeted him, hugging him too as your mum went over and engulfed ella into a big hug and said her hellos too.

"hi buttercup" he said, the old nickname which he gave you when you were little, only because you had a little patch in your garden back in london which used to grow buttercups and when you were little you would always pick them and bring them to mainly your dad but also your mum. so your dad gave you the nickname and ever since it had just stuck.

you rolled your eyes turning around knowing ella would tease you about the nickname your family had for you, "don't even" you pointed to her as ella raised her hands in defence as she tried her best not to laugh.

you went and said your hellos to your younger brother, lewis who had now realised that you were stood in front of him and the two of you caught up a little alongside tommy who had finished raiding you kitchen cupboards for now, and finally came over to say hello as it gave you a chance to find the in and outs of what they had been doing since the last time you saw them as ella spoke with your parents.

"you make our little buttercup so happy, she's told us all about you!" you heard your dad say as he had now made himself comfy in your living room.

"only good things i hope, but i definitely got lucky!" ella said sitting down opposite your mum and dad, looking over at you a big grin appearing on her face as you walked into the room.

she did believe that she got lucky and she had never been the one to believe in 'the one' or 'soulmates' or anything like that but she definitely believed that you and her were soulmates.

you sat down next to ella your arm wrapping around her shoulders pulling her closer to you. your brothers having been left to their own devices in your kitchen, more than likely raiding your cupboards after guilt tripping you: "but y/n it was such a long journey!" in there stupid sappy voice.

"so ella-" your dad began however was cut off by your two brothers coming in arms filled with pretty much every snack they could of possibly of found in your kitchen.

"seriously!" you had cut your dad off, as your two brothers sat on the couch next to your parents, releasing the snacks from their arms. "your not very good at hiding the crisps by the way" lewis smiled, your favourite crisps that you had been saving for a cheat day in his arms.

"i actually hate you- but anyways this is my older brother tommy.." you pointed out to the boy who already had his mouth filled with popcorn as he smiled over to ella, a little hi and wave coming from him.

"and my annoying little brother lewis" you smiled sarcastically towards lewis who shrugged digging into your crisps.

"ella, you could have done so much better than the mug that is my sister!" lewis said, receiving a flap to the back of his head by your dad as you rolled your eyes at your brother, ella just laughing along with the joke.

"she's not all that bad" ella joked, receiving a small dig to the ribs from your as she held onto her side a whisper of an ow coming from the brunette.

the next hour was spent, talking as your mum and dad got to know ella better - even though they didn’t think that was possible because of how much you had already told them over the phone. but with that came with the embarrassing story’s from your childhood and your brothers winding you up.

with that came along the football talk which went on for hours but something you didn’t mind talking about at least it saved you from any more embarrassing stories being told but nevertheless your smile never left your face, as watching your girlfriend interact with your family and get along with so well was all you could ask for in life.

“have you come to help or be a distraction?” ella giggled as she was helping your mum dish up the dinner you had prepared earlier, as you had wandered into the kitchen wrapping your arms around the ella’s waist.

“i always help!” you sighed rested your head on her shoulder as your mum scoffed jokingly. “no the boys aren’t sharing the controller!” you frowned as both your mum and ella began to laugh.

“you didn’t really think you were gonna get a chance of playing when they haven’t played on fifa for the whole journey here!” your mum said looking at you with raised eyebrows as your frown deepened and a big huff coming from you.

“well i thought you know because it’s MY house-“ you began as ella coughed, “sorry OUR house, that they would give me a go on my games!” you complained as ella shook her head at your complaints.

“it’s okay you play on it tomorrow” ella reassured, turning to kiss you on the cheek. as you stayed clinged to your girlfriends waist, your hands wandering up her united hoodie she was wearing.

“i love you baby, but can you let go cause i can’t move” ella whispered in your ear, putting down the spoon she was using to dish up food on the counter and gently prying your hands away from her bare skin. pecking you quickly on the lips as ella moved to where your mum was at the other side of the kitchen.

“can you go and tell your brothers and your dad that dinner is ready?” you mum asked as you stood leaning against the counter dipping your finger in the pudding ella had been making.

mumbling a yes as you retreated from the kitchen, groaning internally at the thought of having to pull them away from the game - knowing it would take a while.

you walked into the living room, all three of them with controller, part of you was contemplating standing there and seeing how long it would actually take for them to notice you but then again you would most likely be stood there all night!

instead you flapped lewis on the head with a cushion, “what-“ he said screaming as tommy and your dad looked behind them where you were stood beginning to laugh. “you joking, i’ve just lost because of you!” as lewis threw the controller to the side of the couch.

“boo hoo, karma for not letting me play!” you sarcastically smiled, “dinners ready by the way” as you walked out the room hearing them complain to each other how the other actually won.

Your dad and brothers coming into the dining room almost seconds after you, as your brothers both looked at each, “did you cook?” they ask almost in sync as you nodded confused at what they were trying to get at.

"yeah, i'm no longer hungry" tommy says as you gasp as ella and your parents are stifling their laugh.

“i’ll have you find, i’m a very good cook. aren’t i els?” you said, actually taking offence to what your brothers said. looking over at ella for back up as she hesitantly agreed.

you scoffed, "you can all starve for all i care then!"

sitting down at the table next to ella, as small talk began inbetween eating the food you had made. the odd topic about life in manchester and what yours and ella’s future plans were — which when brought up you didn’t really know what to say.

of course you and ella had talked about eventually getting married, starting a family but right now everything was perfect. nothing needed to be added and nothing needed to change. everything was perfect.

“i hate to admit this but that was actually quite nice” tommy admitted, finishing his meal you had made after he insulted your cooked, lewis and your parents both agreeing.

ella already knew what you had made was going to be nice considering you make it quite often for the two of you — usually on your recovery days.

“told you!” you smile to yourself in satisfaction - there was no better feeling than proving someone wrong but the someone being your brothers made it that little bit sweeter.

“definitely better than the cake you made for mum on mother’s day when you put salt instead of sugar in it” you dad poked fun, as the memory came back to you. your smile disappearing as quick at it came.

“in my defence i was fifteen” you defended yourself as you could hear ella beside you giggling. it was generally a honest mistake because which idiot even decided to put the salt bowl and the sugar bowl next to each other? someone was bound to get them mixed up and it just happened to be you.

“here was me about to ask you to make me a cake for my birthday!” ella joked, her hand resting on your thigh as she leant into you laughing along side your family.

before you joined in. you couldn’t stay mad at ella. you two worlds had jelled just the way you hoped and that was enough, even if it meant you would be the butt of some jokes but you couldn’t win every battle.

liked by millieturner and 748,013 others

ellatoone meet the parents? completed it mate!

comments -

alessia finally got over your fear i see?

1h 103 likes     reply

-> ellatoone what? i wasn’t scared?

-> yourusername mhm keep telling yourself that baby

lewis91 hello ella👋🏻

24m 217 likes     reply

-> ellatoone you sound like a bot?

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

saying goodbye

(cw: age gap 25/41; mndi, slight nsfw; angst, brief discussion of loss and fear of death)

the part before: comforting him

I wanted to do something nice for König before he goes on his next mission, before he has to leave. Which is quite the challenge to make it a surprise from him when you’re living together. Well, staying together, but it doesn’t change the fact that we spend most of our time with each other.

Another reason, why this doesn't feel like dating anymore. It doesn't feel like just being exclusive. It doesn't feel like a living arrangement because he broke my bed. Also, he seems to be doing better again, after the little downward spiral that plagued him at the end of last week. At the same time… I can't shake the feeling that he's a bit more closed off than he was before.

I sigh. He’ll leave in only two days and we agreed that I would go home tomorrow because, well… it can’t be postponed any longer.

I already knew he has to sort out some stuff today before being deployed, driving into the city, getting a medical check-up and also arranging the details for my new bed to finally be delivered. But this gives me the chance to pack up most of my stuff and prepare what I wanted to surprise him with while he is away for a few hours.

I went grocery shopping after work, got everything that the recipe called for, and started as soon I was back at his place. I cut so many onions for this, I’m all cried out, but I still can’t help the little lump sitting in the back of my throat, closing it up, which has nothing to do with the cut vegetables

He comes back earlier than I anticipated, mumbling something about an incompetent doctor and how he doesn’t like to have his blood drawn. But I shoo him out of his own kitchen with a few comforting words, tell him to sit in the living room and read something. And not disturb me.

“Aye-aye, Ma’am.”, he says, an amused smirk on his face as he jokingly salutes. I roll my eyes and laugh a little, patting his butt, to make him hurry along.

I still need to prepare the sidedish and let the stew cook for a little longer to make sure the meat is tender and the sauce is thick enough. At least that’s what the recipe said. And I need to make sure I do everything right.

When it’s finally done, the kitchen looks like somebody threw around food, although I did my best to clean up as I go.

I fill one of the soup dishes with the stew, putting the Nockerl in there as well, the dough already soaking up some of the sauce. I compare the dish in front of me with the picture from the recipe and I’m actually content with how it came out.

I set the plate down on the island where the seats are and call for König while I get myself a smaller portion. I hear his steps before his huge stature appears in the doorframe.

“Uh, dinner is ready.”, I say wryly smiling at him, with my plate in my hands. I set it down next to his.

“I can see that and I already smelled the cooking in the living room, it smells deli-“ The words gets stuck in his throat as he comes closer, stopping in front of the plate. He drops onto the seat, the furniture aching under his weight. The smile he was still wearing when he came into the kitchen has dissipated, his mouth hanging open, when he looks up from his plate, his eyes finding mine. He looks almost in shock.

I sit down next to him, suddenly very unsure if this whole ordeal even was a good idea.

“You cooked Gulasch?”, he asks, his voice wavering.

I nod. “Yes, I remember how you said that you liked it, so uh, I tried to make it.”

“But you’re vegetarian.”, he adds.

“Yes, but you aren’t. And the original recipe calls for beef.”, I explain, putting the doughy pillows that the Austrians call Nockerl onto my fork, scooping up some of the sauce. I just want to try a bit of, tasting a part of his origins.

He’s still staring as I put the fork into my mouth, and well, he didn’t promise too much when he was talking about his favourite food because that’s really delicious. Though I’m unsure about how authentic it is.

His gaze moves from me to the plate in front of him, finally picking up the fork, and he digs in, taking the biggest bite. I wait to see what his reaction would be like. He shovels two, three forkfuls into his mouth, chewing, tasting. And then suddenly just stops. Goes completely still. And I don’t know what’s going on as his head drops forward, his hair hanging in front of his face.

A small silent sob shakes his chest and a stray tear falls from his face into the stew. My heart drops to my feet. Fuck.

“We don’t need to eat it, if it’s no good.”, I say lightly, trying not to let it affect me. When I go to grab his plate, his head whips in my direction, and I finally get a good look at his face.

“What, no?! I-“ He takes a deep breath, his hand wiping over his eyes quickly, like the tear was never there. “This is the nicest thing somebody has done for me in a long time.”, he finally says. “And it reminds me of my Oma.” A deep sigh shakes his tall frame. “So, thank you, okay? It’s delicious.” He takes my hands, softly pulling them towards him, pressing a kiss on each palm.

The sadness in his eyes isn’t completely gone when I look into them, and I didn’t anticipate that this simple gesture of cooking him his favourite meal would have him in shambles like that. But the smile that turns up the corners of his mouth is a warm one, thankful and happy.

“You’re welcome.”, I simply tell him. “I’m glad you like it.” I press my lips to his, reassuring the big giant that it was okay, without saying it out loud.

When I pull back, he lingers, his hand shooting up to the back of my head, stealing another kiss. Long, deep and oh so soft. Another “thank you”, without saying it out loud.

“What was your Oma like?”, I ask him, taking a forkful of my sauced-up Nockerl. He talked about her before, but it might keep me from tearing up as well.

The smile on his face gets wider and he starts to tell stories about her. Leaving the other people in his family out of it, for the most part.

How she always asked him to get the stuff from the upper shelves because he was already taller than her at age 12. How he sat in the kitchen doing his homework while she cooked. How she stopped pestering him about going to church on Sunday eventually, but still almost smacked him in his head when he turned the cross in the living room upside down as a joke. How she cried when he joined the military because that was the last thing she wished for him. How she still let him go and how he had to promise her to come back – or else. How he helped her in the garden every time he came home and kept doing that well into his 30s. And how he nearly missed her funeral because he almost couldn’t get permission to leave for a few days.

König takes seconds and even thirds, eating almost all of the Gulasch I cooked. I’m already done sitting over my empty plate, listening to him talk, getting us something to drink. When he is done as well, he grabs the plates to wash up, not letting me help in any way, because “Oh no, you already cooked and everything”. He tells me to pick out a movie I’d like to watch, the glint in his eyes telling me that it’s probably going to get cut short again, so I put on Pulp Fiction, a movie we both have watched countless times before.

He laughs as he comes into the living room with a beer in his hand and sees my choice on the flatscreen, taking a seat at the couch and I hop onto his lap when his ass barely touched the cushions. We’re entangled, as close as you can be. And it doesn’t take long for his hands to wander. Squeeze, caress, stroke over my body. Teasing me with soft kisses against my neck until a heavy sigh leaves my lips. He takes that as an invitation to finally take me to the bedroom where he lies me down on the mattress to eat me out, while he kneels on the floor. Messy, sloppy licks and nibbles, his fingers methodically filling me until I cum for him, my thighs pressing together around his head.

He crawls over me, pushing into me with his dick, after teasing my clit some more with his tip, the piercing deliciously pressing into the sensitive nub.

Slow and sweet doesn’t mean less intense, the soft stretch with every sensual roll of his hips sending sensations over my body, making me pant and throw my head back with pleasure.

His hand on my chin compelling me look at him while he is fucking me like this… until it doesn’t feel like just fucking anymore. When I come again, this time around his dick, it feels like a soft wave washing over me, his name on my lips, and he doesn’t stop pushing into me, prolonging my orgasm and chasing his own until he spills inside me.

He presses kisses to my cheek, pulling me into him, and we snuggle up against each other to fall asleep. My back is against his front, the heat of his body warming me, that I don’t even need a blanket. Feeling the comfort of his embrace a little more clearly than usual.

And the realisation hits me that he is going to leave. And I’m gonna go back home, to my apartment. No more König when I come home from work. No shared meals in the kitchen, no sitting in his lap on the couch. No laughing fits in the middle of the night when one of us says something so stupid that the other can’t comprehend. No filthy sex and tender kisses. No calling him “old man” to get a rise out of him. No dirty punishment for my bratty ass. No feeling him inside me, his brows turned up, his eyes rolling back in ecstatic expression as he comes. None of it, at least for some time.

I push those thoughts away, pulling his arms tighter around me as if I could keep him like this. I close my eyes, ignoring the one stray tear that rolls down my cheek, and drift off into sleep.

And with this the day I have been dreading the whole week is finally here. The day when I return to my own apartment after staying with him for weeks. I even took a day off of work for this.

I’m trying not to let it show too much, because it’s a bit stupid. This living arrangement always was meant to be temporary and I always knew he was on leave, needing to go back to his work at some point sooner or later. But now that it’s here… I kinda don’t want it to happen at all.

The coffee tastes a little bitter as I sip it, even though he added just as much milk as usual, with the typical joking disgust while diluting the tasty elixir, that always makes me chuckle and shake my head.

The sunlight streaming through the big windows in the living room blinds me as it reflects off the shiny couch upholstery when I go to collect Mimi from her spot, putting her in the cat carrier.

The book I finished reading on the weekend gets caught when I push it into its place on the shelf, some of the pages creasing. I curse, showing König and apologizing. He takes the book from my grasp, straightening out the crinkles, and puts it back. “Don’t worry, Liebes, it’s just a book.”, he says, his arm coming around me as he pulls me against his warm body and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

I get the rest of my stuff, seeing that one of my yarn balls has tangled into a net of knots, and I curse again. Of course, it did. I put my crochet bag into one of the boxes and carry it outside.

With a sigh I look back over my shoulder one last time and close the door behind me, placing my stuff in the trunk and climbing into the driver’s seat of my own car. Starting it and driving after him, and it’s weird not to sit right next to him in his car.

It’s weird being home again. Letting Mimi out of her carrier, the little kitty running around, brushing against his legs. And he picks her up, carrying her around, just like they always do. The small creature is purring against his chest as he shimmies her around, humming some tune I can't place.

It’s weird standing here in my apartment with him, waiting for the bed to be delivered. I can feel my bubbly yapping coming back, not being able to shut up, and König is listening like he always does. Short, one-worded answers while his hand is petting Mimi, scratching between her ears and under her chin.

The doorbell ringing tears us from our conversation. The delivery guys are handing the packages over, asking if they should help bring them in, but König declines, giving them a tip and sending them their way.

I’m not as easily deterred from trying to help with the packages, although König is carrying most of them, barely breaking a sweat, while I struggle with the smallest one.

Sitting on the bedroom floor, his tall figure still reaching up to my hips before I get down next to him. He’s glancing at the instructions, squeezing his eyes together, but I can tell he’s having a hard time seeing the illustrations of the steps correctly.

And of course he is too stubborn to ask for help. I grin to myself and shake my head. “Forgot your glasses?”, I ask him, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.”, he says wryly, and I extend my hand, suggesting silently he’ll hand over the instructions and he does, with a sigh and a little smile.

While I’m still studying the instructions, he’s laying out the pieces and already putting the first parts together. Of course, he is choosing the hands-on approach, even with stuff like that, figuring it out as he moves along, and I chime in with a few comments here and there, guiding the construction.

His long hair is getting in the way and I lend him a hair tie, and I don’t think I’ll ever manage to get over how meticulous he puts his hair in a ponytail. I mean, he probably has done that same move for years, his hands collecting all the stray strands, the band snapping around them with two quick motions and then it just sits perfectly at the back of his head.

We spent so much time together and I realise that I’ve never seen him do that. The whole time he was always wearing his hair down, some strands hanging in front of his face. Sometimes he put them into a lose bun when he was working out, but never like this.

“What?”, he asks me, a hint of uncertainty on his face.

I shake my head. “Nothing, your hair looks good like that.”, I say, clearing my voice when it dares to break off, but I save it with a smile which gets mirrored by his, and I can’t help but put a kiss onto it while a pang of something spreads in my chest. I feel like I know him so well, and yet I keep learning parts of him I’ve never seen before.

“Come on, Hexe.”, he says when I linger, prolonging the kiss, caught in my thoughts, his hand patting my hip which makes me giggle a bit, but I can't shake the feeling that's settling in my stomach. Fuck, he's gonna leave.

Pretty quickly we construct the bed, it’s easy enough, especially when you’re following the instructions – a sentiment I say out loud after he managed to stick two pieces together who fit, but actually belong like that. He just grins and pulls them apart easily, his muscles flexing for just a moment.

“Show-off.”, I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

Finally, the frame is done, the slats already fitted into it and last but not least, we hoist the mattress onto them.

“You didn’t need to buy me a new one, you know.”

He shoots me a look. A knowing one.

“Really, it was fine. The old one would have sufficed.”

“I have slept on that mattress. You needed a new one.”

“Oh, that's just your old bones.”, I quip, and I know how ridiculous I must sound telling that to a soldier who can probably sleep anytime anywhere.

He pinches my nose. “You're not getting younger yourself, Missy.”, he answers. "Your back will be thankful."

“Yeah, yeah.”, I say grinning and bump my hip against his, rather hitting the burly thigh, before getting some bedsheets.

The fresh sheets match the nice dark wood of the bedframe, the bed now looking so much nicer than the rest of my furniture pieces.

“Thanks. For the new bed.”, I tell him, smiling up at him, getting on my tiptoes.

“No need to thank me, Liebes.”, he answers, leaning down and meeting me halfway for a kiss. “It was my fault you needed a new one in the first place.”, a wry grin accompanying his words.

“Well, this looks much sturdier like the one I had before.” I tap the wooden frame, a hollow knock resounding.

“Well, I needed to make sure that it wouldn’t break that easily again.”, he says, smiling down at me, a twinkle in his eyes. A reminder of how we broke it in the first place.

“Care to test that theory?”, I ask him cheekily, although I’m not really in the mood right now. My heart is way too heavy.

Before I can say anything else, he grabs me by the waist and lifts me up on the bed, the mattress dipping down under my weight. His hands are steadying me when I start to jump up and down, bouncing on it. Damn, it’s really nice. And I don't dare to ask how much he spent on it.

“Sturdy enough, you think?”, he asks me.

I nod. “You wanna come up here too?”, I tease him.

He shakes his head, just grinning, following my movements up and down with his eyes.

“Oh come on!”, I exclaim, not ready to stop this sillyness.

He pulls up his eyebrows. “I don’t think that would be wise, we don’t need to push it.”, he grins, when all of a sudden, there’s a faint cracking sound, and I stop, almost toppling over trying to hold my balance on the wobbling mattress.

“Point and case.”, he remarks as his arms coming around my waist as he lifts me off the bed.

“Okay, okay…”

I hold onto him like a little spider monkey, my legs closing around him, my cheek pressing against his shoulder as I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. Like I could keep him here like that. Or he’ll just take me with him when I stick to him like a limpet. Maybe I’m small enough to fit into his pocket.

My fingers get caught in his hair as I try to run them through it like I always do, and he pulls the hair tie from them, putting it away, letting me play with the long strands, as he goes to sit down.

The couch in my apartment is way smaller than his, his frame fills the cushions easily, so I have nowhere else to sit but his lap. Like I would have sat anywhere else. Trying to be as close to him as possible.

We’re not saying anything, just sitting here. My head rests against his shoulder, his scent all around me. I can hear his heart beat, feel it beneath my fingertips resting on his chest. Steady and strong, but a little too fast.

His hands are gently caressing my thighs and back, and even though I feel the sadness seep into me, the soft touches ground me.

We sit in silence for what seems eternity while at the same time lasting barely more than the blink of an eye. And I wish we could remain in this moment, frozen in time, but well.

He sighs softly, the deep sound pulling me from my thoughts, and I lift my head, to look at him.

“We need to say goodbye.” He slumps back, his shoulders hitting the backrest. “I wish I didn’t need to go.”, he exhales. Saying what I was thinking.

"Don't worry, I'll still be here when you're on leave again.", I tell him, softly kissing his cheek. He turns to me, the expression on his face serious and... a bit sad.

"But you shouldn't be.", he says, calm and steady.

"But-", I want to protest.

He shakes his head. "No, you should be with somebody your age, someone who can give you stability." He sighs. "Someone who can guarantee you that they'll come back to you. Every time they leave."

And the realisation hits me. He isn't saying goodbye for now. He's saying goodbye for good.

“I see.”, is all I manage because my feelings come crashing down over me with a vicious fervor. I thought I was going to have to deal with him leaving for weeks or months. With him being gone for a while. Not with a breakup.

“I’m sorry.”, he apologizes and starts to explain. “I never meant for this to go this far or… this deep.” The admission in his words makes my stomach flip upside down. I actually feel a little nauseous as my hands grip my own thighs, trying to hold onto something. “And I should’ve maybe said something earlier.” He swallows hard.

“The truth is that I had the best time this leave, and that was solely because of you.” He finally looks at me again, the raw emotions in his eyes almost scaring me. But the resolve in them is clear as well. “I couldn’t get myself to break it off. But I can’t make you wait for me either. Because I can’t even promise you that I will return.” His voice is shaking now and seeing him like this makes my lower lip tremble as I just try to breathe.

“And I can’t do that to you. The thought of you waiting for me at home and only a casket coming back… has been killing me inside these past few days.” The words come out choked and I can’t look at him anymore, my head snapping to the side as that image fills my mind. “Fuck, I’m really sorry, okay?”

We sit here like this for a moment longer. His hands stopped caressing my thighs and back, and I want to scream. The cold feeling of loss grips my heart, a viciously clawed hand leaving gaping wounds as it was making its way up my chest. He’s still sitting underneath me, but I feel like he’s already gone.

“I get it.”, I finally say, my voice trembling and hoarse. Still not able to look at him because I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my tears.

“I knew you would.”, he says, the words breaking up as he speaks. And I think back to when he told me that he couldn’t have a partner or family because his job won’t allow it. And I finally get why he thinks like that. At least I guess so. The big house devoid of any life but him, his own little safe haven, and I only now understand how temporary this whole arrangement really had been. I just didn’t see it. Maybe because I didn’t want to.

While I still try to process everything, he lifts me up and sets me down on the cushions of the couch. Like he did countless times the last few weeks. In his living room. And a sob tears from my chest because the gesture reminds me of so many tender and filthy moments at the same time. I hug my knees, pulling them close to me, already missing the warmth of his body. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.

He crouches down, coming face to face with me, and it just hurts to look at him. The bandshirt he bought for the concert we went to together. The tattoos on his knuckles, straining from the tension in his balled-up fists. The long dark hair, pushed to the side, falling back down his shoulder. I don’t need to touch it, to know how soft it feels. The mouth that smiled at me so often. The lips I have kissed countless times and that have kissed every inch of my body. The furrowed brows. The slack expression on his face concealing the laughlines. And for the first time since I’ve known him looking into his eyes doesn’t give me comfort.

He carefully takes my chin, the pads of his fingertips rough against the skin, softly digging into my jaw, like he likes – liked to do. He leans forward pressing a kiss to my lips which almost makes the tears drop from my eyes. A kiss to say goodbye, gentle and bittersweet.

"Stay safe, okay?", he whispers, his eyes looking intently into mine, but I can only nod. My throat is closed up because I know he won't be safe. Not saying anything because I don't want to cry in front of him. Because that will only make it harder, on both of us.

He straightens back up and leaves. The door falls shut behind him.

And I finally let the waterworks flow, sobs shaking my chest as I throw myself into the couch where he sat just a few moments ago.

Mimi’s meow pulls me from my crying fit when she jumps up onto the couch, her little head bumping into me, and I pull her against my chest, the tears rolling down my cheeks. And the odd thought crosses my mind if the crinkles in the book on his shelf are the only remainders of me in his house. While I have this new bed.

How did we get here? Masterlist

a/n: i have been working on this chapter for months and i knew what was coming and now that it's finished, i can't help but still feel the sadness hitting me 🥲 - and no, this is not the last chapter (in case you were fearing that rn) take this recipe for authentic austrian beef gulasch as a token of my apology

[petrovna-zamo]

Omg Courtney Act on the pod with Katya?!

[youngeditor1999]

OPE. 😳😶‍🌫️🫣😩🫡

[hella1975]

id like it to be known that i wholeheartedly support abortion. i support abortion for the person whose pregnancy has become too dangerous to come to term. i support abortion for the victim of rape. i support abortion for those who don't have the financial means to have a child. i support abortion for those underage. i support abortion for someone middle-aged with a stable family and finances and loving partner who quite simply does not want a child. i support abortion for people who sleep around. i support abortion for someone who thought they wanted a child but changed their mind. i support abortion in all its infinitely different situations. if it comes to me picking between a bunch of cells that look like fish eggs and an actual living breathing person with a name and future then babe we're having caviar

[mirrortouchedsea]

getting motivated to work on that kaokana fic finally and i have added like 1k this week.... so much progress for me i'm so happy

[disdaidal]

Okay, so, now my school might be arranging a 2-week on-the-job-learning trip to Portugal in November-December, for those interested in / lack of experience from foreign countries... but I don't know if I can even apply there now because there's a possibility that my schedule could be filled with other kind of stuff that we're supposed to be doing for this degree at the same time, so. 🙃 I'm kinda mad ngl.

[silouvertongues]

read everything i know about love it and kinda put me in a lil depressive mood lol ??

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

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

jjk masterlist

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

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

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

and he seems to despise you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not that it mattered now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if only you knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i don’t-”

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

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

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what you saw last night-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you alright?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you are my wife-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what do you mean?” 

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

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

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and then?” 

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

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

“and then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

[sexybritishllama]

in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy

for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:

the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)

the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop

there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial

this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs

flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected

but, eventually, it opens!

well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?

the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?

as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:

only 10 items could be donated per day

points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each

this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless

r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win

people were Not Happy about this

not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least

however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.

i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already

because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day

BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.

this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them

so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison

it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION

So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring