#gets swept away and starts falling in love

[daycourtofficial]

Deceptive Domestication

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 7.7k | Warnings: sexism, misogyny

Summary: The two of you have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Can you live with this false reality? Or will your feelings for Azriel eat you alive when it’s over?

Author’s note: started making it, had a breakdown, bon apetit

“Angel, where are you?”

Azriel’s deep voice moves on the wind, finding you at the back of your cottage. You twist the new ring adorning your fourth finger, the skin beneath it showing no tan lines, “I’m back here, just one second!”

Azriel laughs, his voice sweet and full of honey, “the wife’s an avid gardener. When we were first considering moving here, she insisted we check the soil to make sure she would be able to have her prized blackberries.”

You appear from the side of the house, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress. Azriel’s arm reaches around you, clasping you on your shoulder as you get next to him. 

“He’s right, I love my blackberries greatly,” you say, reaching out to shake hands with your new neighbors. They lived in the house closest to yours, a red thatched roof adorning the black building. Delicious smells came from it, and judging by the smoke from the chimney, they were likely preparing dinner when they saw you two.

“We just wanted to come by and meet the two of you, we saw you come in last night and wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Arben,” the male points to himself, “and this is my wife, Alija.”

You nod to both of them - they looked to be a good bit older than you and Azriel, wrinkles adorning their tanned faces. “Thank you, this used to be my Uncle Sal’s home. Since he passed away recently, he left the home to us and we wanted to leave our home village.”

“I’m so sorry about Sal, sweetheart,” he says, a sympathetic look in his eye, “he was a nice male, talked about you all of the time. Alija has to finish dinner, but we’ll see the two of you around, yeah?”

You press your lips into a firm smile, nodding before pressing into Azriel’s side and turning back to the house. His arm on your back guides you to the door of your new home, his touch a familiar warmth amidst all of the new. Once you cross the threshold, shutting the door behind yourselves, Azriel’s hand falls from your back and he immediately puts distance between you two, walking towards the bedroom he was staying in. His smile drops, the air in the room frigid. Rhys’s words clang through you, a shock to your senses.

Go to this village as a married couple. I’m unsure how long it will take.

You jolted as Azriel slammed the door behind him. Sighing, you move to your own room, taking in the bags left to unpack. You had taken great care to pack enough to last you as the season changes. The two of you were here indefinitely, marooned in a quaint village of about forty-three people.

Move in, become friends with the neighbors, find out what you can.

There was a circle of villages in the western part of the Night Court where females kept disappearing - six had gone missing in the last month. The villagers were not speaking to outsiders, but Rhysand thought a long term mission might allow the spies to get close enough to get some questions answered.

So he decided on you and Azriel.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It had been strange seeing Azriel play this version of a spy, even if it had only been a day. You were so used to him lurking in the shadows, it felt so strange to watch him play the part of a doting husband, and to do it well. Introducing you to the neighbors and random villagers, a hand kept on your skin at all times - on your lower back, your waist, your shoulders. It was so easy to get swept up in the illusion you two were selling - even you were convinced you were newlyweds, moving for a fresh start.

Until he slammed his door, reminding you it was all fake, a farse for information.

Things between you and Azriel have always been easy. You two were the best of friends, most of your free time being spent with him since joining the Inner Circle two years ago. The two of you spent countless nights sitting together when sleep wouldn’t find you, you two had even developed a code - open bedroom doors at night were a silent invitation for the other to come in, spending most nights in each other’s rooms, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of the two of you.

All of that ended very suddenly a few months ago. Suddenly his door was always closed to you, your own cracked every night. A call to him, begging him to acknowledge you.

You started keeping your door closed a month ago. It didn’t feel right, shutting him out, but clearly you had done something wrong. Your entrance into a room would cause him to leave immediately, changes in his training schedule to avoid you, abruptly turning around when he saw you.

It was all pissing you off.

The rest of the Inner Circle were just as clueless as you were as to what happened to cause Azriel’s sudden distance. Cassian tried to interfere - making plans with both of you for dinner at a restaurant and ditching, trying to force you two to spend time together.

Azriel just left once he caught sight of you.

That was your tipping point. You stopped going to training, you pulled back from family dinners. They were his family first, and you wanted to give him whatever space he needed. Everyone protested, telling you it was his problem, and in Cassian’s words “if he’s going to be a jackass, I don’t want him around anyway.”

Still, you retreated, hardly seeing much of the family you had forged over the past few years. No matter how much it hurts you to do so.

Once you began accepting this new Azriel-less reality, Rhys had called you into his office. The high lord looked almost conflicted, your entire family aware that something weird was happening between you and Azriel. None of them dared to ask Azriel, his darkened mood making it incredibly easy to anger him, and anytime they asked you they were met with a shrug and a soft, “I don’t know.”

All of them had been scratching their heads, desperate for an explanation for the sudden iciness between you two. It had been weeks of this, and everyone missed seeing the two of you exchanging whispers in the corner or watching Azriel’s shadows wind through your hair.

Which was why Rhysand decided to insert himself into the situation. He called you into his office, and after asking you to take a seat, he began asking after your week. Your eyebrows knitted, confused about the formality of it all, when you realized you haven’t actually seen Rhysand in almost a month. 

You had taken up residence in the House of Wind - since you were a scholar it lended easy access to your work, and whenever you wanted to leave, you asked Azriel to ferry you around. You tried to remember the last time you saw anyone in the inner circle that wasn't Cassian or Nesta, and it was when Cassian offered to fly you into town to get lunch with Feyre three weeks ago.

You’re not certain how to tell Rhysand the past few weeks had been filled with silence, whatever happened between you and the shadowsinger led you to avoid Cassian and Nesta, avoid training, avoid anything that wasn’t being buried in your work in the library.

You look into violet eyes, and you check your mental shields because he’s looking at you as if he already knows how sad this whole situation has made you.

You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Time is passing, I suppose.”

Rhys’s face falls a bit at just how dejected you sounded. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - they all knew there was something between you and Azriel, they all saw how you two gravitated towards each other. Neither of you would open up about whatever it was that shifted things so quickly and easily and it was pissing all of them off.

“I need your help with something.”

It was the best plan they could come up with to try to salvage things.

-

You woke up early the next morning, determined to tend to the garden before the sun reached its peak in the sky. You had plans later in the afternoon to meet with a few of the women of the village, but you had to get to working on this garden. There was no time table on this mission, and the two of you only had food stores to last you a few months.

If you were to be stuck in this purgatory that long, you needed new food to replenish whatever you use.

Your story to tell the villagers was that the two of you were quite young from the other end of Illyria. The two of you were extraordinarily lucky that one of the older fae males in this village happened to pass away a few weeks ago, allowing the two of you an easy in. You merely reviewed some family records, and were posing as his beloved niece, here to lead a new life with her husband.

You tended to the garden behind the house - the weeds had grown wildly in the previous owner’s absence. Your ‘uncle's absence, that is.

You spent all morning pulling weeds, making quite an improvement to the garden before you decided to go in and make yourself lunch. You came in, rinsing the dirt from your fingers, the water feeling nice against some of the minor cuts you acquired outside. After drying off, you pulled out a loaf of bread, slicing the bread to prepare some sandwiches. 

You hummed to yourself, trying to fill the silence of the house. It wasn’t large - a quaint two bedroom house with two bathrooms, a nice little kitchen, and a sitting room. You were a bit surprised at how well the interior of the house had been maintained by your ‘uncle’. 

Azriel was headed with the rest of the males to the war camp, spending his day training as a lesser ranked Illyrian. He was glamoured to look enough not like himself to the other Illyrians that they wouldn’t think anything of him. You had also glamoured some of Azriel’s siphons, only allowing one on his chest to remain. He was not happy about it, not wanting to seem so much weaker than he truly was. He wouldn’t listen to any of your points about it, but Rhys eventually convinced him to allow your glamour to cover six of his siphons because “it’s quite obvious who you are”.

Azriel’s refusal to listen to even your opinions on the mission was grating. You wanted to get to know the local females, and Rhys agreed with you, but Azriel kept arguing that ‘it wasn’t safe’.

Stupid Illyrians and their stupid pigheadedness, you suppose. If you’re not supposed to speak with the other females, why were you even here?

You knew this mission would be difficult for Azriel - his hatred for his own people fueling centuries of anger and resentment. You thought being trapped here was an appropriate punishment for how he had iced you out of his life.

You had just finished making your sandwich when there was a knock at the door. You brushed your hands down your dress, glamouring wings back to life behind you, breathing deeply before you answered the door.

An Illyrian woman stood in your doorway, her dark curls slightly hiding her tanned face that was turned down. She was taller and broader than you, but still small for an Illyrian. Her demeanor told you they treated her that way as well. Her wings were tucked in tight behind her and her shoulders shook lightly before you.

Her voice was weak as she told you, “we go every day, bringing lunch to the males, if you wish to accompany us.”

Wish.

You knew the reality of coming here - you knew they would give a few days of grace to settle in, set up your garden, bereave your uncle before they assigned you to a chore rotation. In communities like this one, everyone had to pull their weight.

It was just astonishing how ‘pulling your own weight’ made the females seem two to three times heavier than the males.

You nod your head to the female, closing the door behind you as you meet her outside. You had no idea where the war camp was, knowing it mustn’t be too far from the village. You vaguely remember Azriel and Rhys discussing the three villages that filtered into the camp, how all three were short walks from the villages.

Dirt crunches beneath your boots as you walk alongside the female, her deep brown eyes downcast towards the ground, shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible as you walk. “What’s your name?” You ask, your voice causing her to flinch. Her eyes were wide as they looked at you, shock at being addressed you presumed. It was astonishing how awfully they must treat her, because her face resembled a wounded dog’s.

“Kaltrina.” Her words are mumbled, and you have to strain your ears a little to hear her. 

“Kaltrina - it’s nice to meet you. Um, are you married?”

Not your usual first question, but around these parts marriage was as good as social standing. Also any unwed women over the age of 24 were considered ‘unwanted’ or ‘untameable’. This village was harsh on women - even by Illyrian standards. The males of this village made Devlon look forward and free-thinking.

“No, not married. I live with my brother, Dardan.”

Her tone didn’t suggest anything about him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. She offers you a smile and a soft nod, “is your husband nice?”

You offer the same soft nod before you hear her say, “he’s quite good looking, too.”

You pause, trying to remember everything Cassian and Rhysand had told you about Illyrians to prepare for this - they told you males were incredibly territorial, treating their wives more like trophies and laborers rather than spouses. A male would take this as a compliment - one mention of a good-looking wife would be something to boast about, mentioning it more than once would be an offense.

But how did the females treat their husbands, how did they speak to each other about them? It was the biggest gap in your knowledge, but you suppose you can explain away any discrepancies on how far away the two of you came from.

“Yes, he’s quite pretty.”

She giggles at your words, and you feel a swell of pride at getting it right. She walks next to you, standing a little straighter for the rest of the walk.

The two of you made it to the war camp, joining the other females to distribute food to the males. The males look at you like you’re not much more than a piece of meat or some dirt on their boots, but your eyes scanned the crowd for Azriel, not finding him the entire time you’re there.

You do get a chance to speak with a few of the females as you all head back to the village, carrying leftover food with you. Most of them seem to welcome you - suggesting what crops grow best in the area, telling you to reach out if you need any help with anything.

The other females head off at the fork in the road, telling you and Kaltrina they would see you the next day. You breathe deeply, looking to Kaltrina once more. She hardly spoke once the two of you had met up with the other females at the war camp, keeping her distance from them the entire time.

“How’s your brother?” You ask, the innocent question causing Kaltrina to flinch. 

“He’s a fine male.”

Her answer feels so dry, so rehearsed. You don’t press the issue, changing topics instead. “How will you spend the rest of the afternoon?”

“Chores.”

You listen to the birds singing around the both of you, their song a beautiful melody across the skies. You eventually pass a house similar to your own, but a bit smaller, the roof not well cared for. Kaltrina gives you a small wave before turning down the path to her house, disappearing behind the door. 

You kept walking towards your own house, but you did see her appear in the window briefly, watching you walk down the road. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, but you quickly looked forward again, making your way back to the house, determined to finish unpacking this afternoon.

-

You had finished unpacking by the time you heard the door open, Azriel traipsing through the house. 

“Hello my loving husb-“

Your sarcastic words die as you turn to see his face, a cut on his lip and a black eye. He shakes his head, trying to tell you it’s nothing, and he starts moving to just head to his room, but you’re not having it.

“We have some bandages in the bathroom.” Your words don’t have a command in them, but he heads towards the bathroom. You pick up a bottle of alcohol, dabbing some on a rag. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and he goes.

You’re a few inches from his face, the closest you’ve been in months. His scent was so comforting, you just wanted to wrap yourself in it and stay for a while. He stays silent, his face a blank slate you could slap any emotion to. 

His shadows have been having fun whizzing around the house. He had told them they had to stay completely hidden if they were to come to the war camp with him, otherwise they had to stay in the house or go off wherever they wanted. They didn’t like the options, but most of them stayed with him, tucked into his boots, his pants, the hilt of his sword. Now that he was back, they scattered across the house, energetic wisps of darkness moving through the house, through your hair, against your skin.

“What happened?”

He huffed, his fingers dancing on his thighs in irritation. “I’m a new male, they’re just seeing if I can take it.”

You nod, and from the irritation in his voice, you know he’s shutting you back out. You hold the alcohol covered rag up to his lip, cleaning the blood from his face. He had healed a good bit since he received the beating, and you notice his knuckles are bloody. 

Hopefully he put up a good enough fight. 

“I went with some of the women to the war camp to distribute food.”

His eyes snap to yours, his wings rustling behind him. His eyes were dark, a look to them you’ve never seen directed at you. He reaches his hand up to your wrist, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

You’re taken aback by his tone - even if your relationship was tenuous, he never took such an aggressive tone with you. In all your years of friendship, the most strain in his voice you had heard directed at you was when you were free climbing up the cabinets of the kitchen to get to the top shelf for some cookies.

“Because Rhys thinks-”

“I don’t give a damn what Rhys thinks when it comes to you, I said it was a bad idea and to stay away from them.”

“They’re battered females, Azriel! The males treat them like dirt! And their friends and sisters and mothers have gone missing. I can help them, I know I can - that’s why we’re here!”

His hand tensed around you before he pulled his hand away from you. He looks away from you, his harsh breathing echoing through the small bathroom.

“You’ll only get yourself hurt by talking to them.”

He snatched the rag from your hand, pushing past you out the bathroom and into his room, slamming the door on your once again. You want to scream or stomp your feet at how ridiculous he was being.

“I’m not a kid you can boss around, Azriel.”

His silence didn’t make you so certain about that.

-

The next week goes by much like your first full day in the village - you wake up after Azriel’s gone, tend to the house (your ‘uncle’ left it in semi-decent shape, but it did need a few repairs), head with Kaltrina to the war camp to feed the males (where you were even able to meet Kaltrina’s brother and several of the female’s husbands), and spend your afternoon preparing dinner for the two of you.

You’re not on speaking terms with Azriel after his outburst while you cleaned him up - every day he’s returned with some minor cut and scrape, and all you do is point to the alcohol and provide him with fresh rags. You won’t clean him up yourself, you’re too pissed at him for that, but you still urge him to do it himself

You still care, despite it all. 

Despite the ice between you and Azriel, the females of the village began opening up to you, accepting you as one of their own. You join them every day to serve lunches to the males, and several of them even invited you to their homes to help teach you how to cook with the regional vegetables. 

“Your husband’s too skinny,” one said, “I’ll teach you how to cook.”

You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, but you took it for what it was - an offering. You spent the afternoon with her, learning how to smoke pig ‘the correct way’. She had told you her name was Bora, she and her husband have lived in this village for several centuries, and she has had many, many smoked pigs.

“None compare to my family recipe.”

She was quite intimidating, and you could tell she took shit from no one, not even her husband. You were touched that she would share her family recipe with you so readily, thinking perhaps she took a special interest in you until another female stopped by and, after telling her Bora was teaching you her family recipe, she told you, “it’s how she inaugurates new females to the village’.

You were less touched and your ego deflated a bit, but you were still grateful she would spend so much time with you. The afternoon flew by, time not registering as you helped Bora peel her vegetables while the pork cooked. 

You looked up, noting the dark sky through the window, dropping the zucchini. “Oh no,” you mutter, running out of the house to the road, eyes wide to find Azriel running up the road, blades drawn. His siphon was glowing in the dark, it’s cobalt blue blazing with intensity.

He was frantic, and you could have sworn you saw his shadows frantically zipping around him, moving in and out of houses. His body visibly relaxes as he spots you, rushing towards you. His arms wrap around you, crushing you into an embrace. His breathing is ragged, “I thought- I thought- you-”

His words come out choppy, but he pulls back, his hands on your face. He’s breathing hard, trying to string words together. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement.

“Is everything alright?”

Bora’s voice startles Az, and one of his shadows whips into a defensive position before you shoo it away. He quickly collects himself, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you to his chest.

“Sorry, I got worried when I got home and my wife wasn’t there.”

He pats your hair, his hands combing through them softly. “Just need her to be safe, s’all.”

Bora nods, perhaps more understanding than she should be of Azriel’s concern. “Ah, to be newly married again. She was safe,” she turns away before adding, “she’s always safe here with Bora.” 

The older female waddles back inside for a moment before coming back out to the two of you, the tray of pork and vegetables on it. “Here’s dinner tonight - Bora’s family recipe.” She winks at you, and the two of you politely thank her before heading back to your house. You carried the tray, but Azriel kept both of his hands on you the entire walk back.

The walk back is mostly quiet, Azriel’s heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline leaves his body. You swivel your head around, noticing no one out in the village at this hour.

“Why were you being so nice and touchy to me out there and anytime we see the neighbors?” Your words come out barely more than a whisper, but you knew he heard them. “The men in this village hardly view their wives as more than livestock, it might be more suspicious for you to be so nice to me.”

He turned, just enough for you to see the side of his face, to watch his mouth as he said, “I could never do that to you.”

You spent the rest of the walk in silence, spending the entire time dissecting the way he said “you”.

-

Your house with Azriel is still quiet, the two of you living separate lives behind the oak door. Sleeping apart, eating dinner in different rooms. You two only spoke when you were outside of the house. 

A few days after cooking with Bora, you and Kaltrina were headed back to the village from the camps for lunch when she offered to help you make dinner. 

“I want to say thanks, for being my friend.”

Her words make you feel terrible over how strange you had found her. Maybe she was just awkward. You weren’t sure, but you knew you’d be safe inside your own home, so you agreed to let her stay. 

The two of you prepare dinner, Kaltrina seeming a bit nervous as she skitters about your kitchen. You make idle small talk, but the air in the room seems so off you can’t put your finger on it.

“What will your brother be doing for dinner tonight?” 

She looks a bit downcast as she tells you, “he has plans tonight, he’s eating at his friend’s house.”

Her tone tells you not to ask anymore, and you don’t press the issue any further. 

The two of you eat in silence, Kaltrina’s eyes moving around your house, taking in every detail. She excuses herself to the bathroom, and you show her where it is. 

In Kaltrina’s absence, Azriel makes his way through the front door, his shadows beginning to spread throughout the house in contentment. You quickly shake your head at the tiny wisps that come to you, sending them back to Azriel. You point towards the bathroom, jerking your head at the noises from behind the door trying to tell him someone was here.

The water runs, and Azriel quickly moves across the room, his arms circling your waist. Your eyebrows pinch, but you quickly relax them as Kaltrina leaves the bathroom. Her steps halt at seeing Azriel, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.

“Kaltrina, this is my husband. Valon, this is my friend, Kaltrina.”

He nods to her before squeezing your waist and giving a swift kiss to your temple. Kaltrina’s eyes linger on the display of affection, not breaking contact even moments later. Azriel rubs your back, eyes fond as he looks to you, “I’m going to head to bed, take your time with your friend, but don’t leave me waiting too long.”

Was that a signal? You two slept in separate rooms - what did his words mean? You lean up, kissing his cheek before rubbing at his jaw and nodding. He turns his attention towards Kaltrina, “it was nice meeting you Kaltrina, my wife is quite fond of you. Have a good night.”

Her mouth is slightly ajar, her cheeks a harsh shade of red as she squeaks, “good night.”

Azriel nods at her and he slips into your bedroom, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You turn back to Kaltrina, her eyes lingering on the door to your bedroom, and you could almost feel the yearning radiating from her. 

“Come on, we should clean up a bit.” The two of you head into the kitchen, cleaning and scraping the dirty dishes from earlier. You two work in silence, the only sounds in the room are the scrubbing of pots.

“Your husband seems quite nice.”

Her voice is full of want and yearning. You stop cleaning pots before you, Kaltrina’s eyes fixed on you until you look. She turns her eyes away, looking back to the pots.

“Yes, he is very kind.”

“He’s unlike any of the males around here.”

This conversation felt a bit dangerous. Azriel said it was fine, that he couldn’t treat you the way any of these males treat their wives - like servants, like cattle, like nothing. But you knew the females of the village would notice how he treated you, if they haven’t already. You start to wonder if they had noticed, discussing the odd outsiders, figuring the two of you out, getting you-

“He’s very good-looking.”

Kaltrina’s voice startles you, and you look to find her not even looking at you, gazing off to some point on the wall. Had she meant to say that out loud? The two of you finish up cleaning, although it is mostly you doing the work, Kaltrina’s gaze is lost somewhere on your kitchen wall. You quickly escort her out, wishing her a good night. You offer to walk her home, but she declines, saying she’ll be fine on her own. 

You close the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Azriel was in your room - your room - the one with the unmade bed, clothes haphazard around the space. You two used to frequent each other’s private chambers, but now you can’t recall the last time he laid in your bed, perused the books on your shelves, or sat in the chair in the corner of your room at the House of Wind.

You push open the door to find him pacing in front of your bed, his shadows lounging lazily on your bed. You nod to him, picking at your fingernails.

“I think it’s Kaltrina. I think she’s the one doing this.”

“Kaltrina?” His voice is full of surprise and misunderstanding. “You think Kaltrina, that little thing is behind all of this?”

“Yes! I just.. Don’t know why.. The way she talks about you…”

“We can’t go off of silly little feelings when convicting someone of a crime, you know.” He stands in front of you, his wings blocking the light from the candles, casting shadows across his face.

“I’m well aware-”

“You have to think - where would she keep them? How could she overpower so many Illyrian women? And besides, why does it matter what she thinks of me?”

Your anger was bubbling to the surface, his condescending tone leading you to yell out, “what the fuck is your problem, Azriel?”

He looks at you, turning away quickly while muttering, “we are not doing this here.” His shadows are ever so slightly trying to push him back towards you, but he ignores their attempts, plowing through them to your kitchen.

“No, I think we are doing this right here, right now. I’ve let too much shit go by and I can’t keep acting like everything’s okay anymore.” You take in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending. Just tell me whatever it was that I did that made you hate me and we can move on!”

“No.”

His curt reply annoys you even more, and you’re directly in front of him poking his chest.

“Just tell me what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s clearly not the case.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand down his face, but you are unrelenting in your pursuit for the truth.

“We were friends, you used to like spending time with me. I don’t know what happened that made you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you.”

You laugh, “well you could have fooled me. For months everyone’s been asking me what happened between us, and I have no clue! It’s like you woke up one day and decided we couldn’t be friends anymore!”

“That’s not what happened-”

“Oh, it’s not? So you were pretending to be my friend while you secretly hated me before cutting me off one day?”

“I HAD TO.”

His eyes were wide with an almost feral-like look to them. He looked almost more beast than fae.

“I had to. Those fae that were trafficking females and males, they… “ His hand shakes as he curls and uncurls it, his scarred fingers twitching with the motion. “One of my spies found your name in one of their notebooks, reported it to me immediately.”

His ferocity is turned on you, hazel eyes looking into your own, as if he was searching through your soul. “Don’t you get it? They know you, they know who you are.” His voice raised an octave, squeaking, “because of me.”

“So, what? Because someone knew that I was important to you, you cut me off?”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Oh, no, was it that someone pointed out to you that I was important to you and you didn’t like that?” Your voice was raising, getting louder, but you couldn’t care. 

“That’s not-“

“I’m a big girl, Az, I deserve to know everything before making decisions. I don’t deserve my decisions to be taken from me.”

“Will you let me speak?”

His shadows were covering the windows, the doors, the walls. His chest was heaving as he tried to get the words out, tried to make you see.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“So instead of explaining this to me, you cut me off like I meant nothing to you? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? Why couldn’t you tell me-”

“You would talk me out of it! Convince me it was in my head. I needed you to be safe, for cauldron’s sake!”

You sniffle, eyes catching on the door. “I have a lot to think about,” is all you say before storming out, closing the door behind you. You walk from the house, your boots sinking into the grass at your feet as you walk aimlessly around the village. Your thoughts whirled and swirled of Azriel’s words, your hands pulling at your hair in frustration.

“Hey, there.”

You whip around, fist raised, to find Dardan looking back at you. You quickly drop your fist - he could still tell the others you showed defiance towards him and you’d be in a lot of trouble. 

“Oh, hey, Dardan, right? I must not have heard you. How are you tonight?”

You try to make your voice sound as pleasant as possible, as feminine as possible. 

“Just taking an afternoon stroll,” he muses, “care to join me?”

You look around, noticing you’re much further from the village than you intended. Even though you were a married female to the rest of the village, it was still disrespectful towards your husband to be seen on the outskirts of town with an unmarried male. 

“Um,” you start turning around, your gut trying to tell you this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “Actually, I should get back to my husband. I need to start working on dinner soon.”

You turned your head just in time for something hard and metal to make contact with it, the last thing in your vision was the ground before complete darkness.

-

Your head was killing you, your neck at an unnatural angle as you opened your eyes. The room was dark, but still too bright for the pounding of your head. You take a deep breath, trying to note your surroundings. 

Your hands were bound behind you, some fabric you should be able to easily pull apart. You were on the ground, some dirt beneath your body as you laid on the cold ground. You began tugging on the fabric, trying to maneuver your hands to slip through the knot.

“Tug all you want, we got a talented witch in these parts.”

Your body goes cold at the voice.

Dardan.

Fuck.

You want to slam your head on something, but there’s nothing. Your breathing speeds up, your mind moving through all your interactions with Dardan.

You thought he was nice. He had been amicable to you at the war camp, you barely even thought of him during this mission. You thought it was Kaltrina. How could you have gotten things so wrong? 

He smiles as he watches your brain try to figure things out. His smugness was a new look for Lee - one that made him look very unattractive. “We knew one of Rhysand’s dogs was bound to show up at some point, just didn’t think they’d bring a pretty bitch like you with ‘em. Color me surprised when my little sister brought you around.”

You snap at his words, “bitches bite.”

He goes by to sharpen whatever knife he was wielding before replying. “We got big plans.”

Dardan wouldn’t say more than that, continuing to sharpen his blade before inspecting it. Once it was to his satisfaction, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you from the ground. You scramble, trying to get your feet on the ground, kicking at the dirt he was dragging you across to gain some footing. His pull on your hair was unrelenting, even as your arms flailed back trying to hit him.

Eventually you’re able to get your feet beneath you, trying to keep up with his steps. He opens the doors to the structure you were kept in, the light of dusk surprising you. There was no way to tell time in that barn.

“It’s almost sunset, girl.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, trying to take a big inhale so you can scream. The sound was piercing - a loud screech coming from you. Dardan just laughed. “Screech all you want, no one’s around for miles.”

Rhys’s words echo in your mind.

Stay close to Azriel.

A warning you had forgotten when you stormed off. Dardan’s tight grip brings you towards a clearing full of other Illyrians from the village you had been staying in and several of the nearby villages. You’re about to call, to beg them for help, when you notice six of the males are each dragging a female in some way towards the center of the clearing. You can’t see over the wings and heads in front of you, but the crowd parts for your eyes to land on a stone altar with ancient languages carved into it.

The crowd gave enough space for the six Illyrians to stand in a circle around the altar, each one cradling a woman by their neck with a blade pressed to it. You start fighting back against Dardan, trying to scratch him, hit him, but he throws you towards the altar where two winged males stand, catching you in their arms easily. You throw out your hand, making contact with one of their jaws, a soft “bitch” hissed at you. 

You throw your bound hands into the other one’s gut, but the first one grabs your elbow, twisting harshly. You struggle in the hold, winding your head back to headbutt him, but the other one grabs your head, holding it in place. You start kicking your legs out, hoping for any kind of contact, but a male from the crowd comes up and catches your ankles. 

The three males hold onto you, moving you on top of the altar. Your movements do nothing to stop them as they clamp down your feet, moving towards your hands, shackling them to the altar as well. Your pleas to be let go fell on deaf ears.

You turn your head to the left, two of the females coming into your view. Their wings twitched as their captors held them, not much fight in them. You yell to them, begging for them to fight back against the males at their backs. Tears stream down the side of your face, leaking into your ears as you watch their complacency, what they’ve been conditioned for. 

Nausea rolled in your stomach at the idea of how long they’ve been aware of this fate. These girls have been missing for weeks and months of their lives, kept Mother knows where to beat them into compliance. 

They stood at attention, knives to their throats, unmoving. 

Your eyes water seeing Kaltrina amongst them, her eyes downcast.

It was sickening.

Dardan comes from the crowd, looking down at you over the crook of his nose. He raises a knife to your throat, your skin nicking on the blade as your breathing quickened. 

“Any last words?”

You look up at Dardan, mustering every ounce of defiance onto your face as you pull back, spitting into his smug face. His face falls for a moment before wiping the saliva off. Dardan looks towards the sky, “just a moment until sundown. If only your pretty little shadowsinger could be here now, to watch you become the ultimate sacrifice.”

Breathing gets harder as the seconds tick by, knowing the sun will set at any second. You felt a cool breeze blow over you. 

Not a breeze.

A shadow.

“Get your fucking hands off of my mate.”

Your heart stops in your chest, something sparking deep within you at Azriel’s growl of warning in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Dardan’s knife is still pressed to your neck, but you’re able to move your eyes enough to see wisps of shadow pulling the knives away from the necks of the other females in the circle. 

You tilt your head back, barely able to make out Azriel standing behind Dardan, his shadows angrily darting all around him. Several more of them make their way to you, almost cloaking you in the scent of their master.

Dardan’s arrogance doesn’t balk at the sight of Azriel, his grip on the knife tightening. 

“You can drop the ‘mate’ act, freak,” Dardan spat out, his words causing the shadows to whirl in agitation. “We need her-”

In a flash the shadows coating you slithered up your torso, slithering around the wrist that held the blade. They pulled the wrist away, the knife narrowly avoiding slicing your throat. At the same time, Azriel moved for Dardan, his fist connecting with Dardan’s jaw causing a crack across the clearing. Dardan hit the ground, but Azriel dove after him, landing punch after punch.

In the chaos of the fight breaking out, the crowd was in hysterics, all of the males attempting to fly or flee, pools of shadows surfaced at their feet, tripping them up, their bodies slowly disappearing into the darkness. Some of them tried to crawl from the darkness, but to no avail. The crowd quickly went from about 30 males to just the six females left, all unharmed, huddling together for some form of protection.

Azriel was choking Dardan out, scarred fingers forcing the breath from Dardan’s lungs. “I will enjoy taking my time with you.” Azriel’s words hung in the air as Dardan slowly slipped into the shadows underneath him, but Azriel remained on the grass. He quickly got to this feet, most of his shadows gone, likely to keep the Illyrian prisoners in check.

He stumbles over to you, quickly undoing your binds before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you from the altar.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” are all he says, his words repeating as you feel tears fall onto your shirt. You gripped him just as tightly, finding it easier to breathe in his presence for the first time in ages. 

“I can’t live in fear anymore.”

He lunged for you, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s rushed, full of fear and trepidation. 

But by the cauldron was it warm and full of life. 

He pulled back, wiping spit from his mouth, his fingers covered in blood pushing the hair out of your face. “When I heard that your name was on one of those books, the bond snapped for me. I flew in a rage, killing all those traffickers. But I knew there were more like them out there.”

His eyes were full of regret, “I should have told you, but I thought you’d be safer not knowing. Then I figured this mission was my last time to actually have you, to play pretend.”

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it, pulling him in closer to you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling that deep smell of cedar that you adored more than anything. It felt like coming home.

“I’m still pissed at you for not telling me.”

He chuckles, a deep, warm sound you haven’t truly heard in ages, “can I make it up to you? I won’t keep secrets from you ever again.”

He holds your face in his hands, his own eyes wet with tears. One of his hands pulls away, his tan skin radiant in the moonlight. You bring up your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You keep your eyes on his, “no more secrets. From either of us.”

He nods, a bargain tattoo beginning to snake its way on your skin. 

“No more running.”

The tattoo wove its way on your skin, dark tendrils solidifying where your forearms meet. When you pull your hand away, the tattoo is incomplete, missing the gaps where Azriel’s arm belongs.

Much like a one-sided duet, your tattoos look empty without the other there to complete the song that echoed in your chest, the song that hummed at the sight of him. The bond didn’t feel so much like a snap as a slow sinking, as if you had finally opened your eyes after so long. 

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you had a lot to figure out - the females, what to do with the strange occult Illyrians, but the two of you could do it.

He promised - no more running.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

[shirozora-draws]

... anyway! if i wasn't so tired/busy this whole fucking month, i'd already have gotten to a comfortable spot in the 3quelfic Part 1 revisions and started the final outline and first draft of That Staircase Doodle fic, but i am tired/busy so the best I can do right now is spend way too much time sketching and cleaning up said sketching some thoughts on Reluctant Mand'alor Din and Jedi Knight/Ambassador Luke.

i intentionally left in the older sketch line layers to 1) show my thought(?) process as i figure out a composition and 2) remind myself that this is NOT a polished piece, I don't got time to make fancy arts beside the 3 final prints for the print shop project.

I have one more scribble ready to go but it's thematically so dramatically different from this little one that I'll post it either Thursday or Friday night.

... I should.... actually get back to writing fic actually.

[goldenhypen]

against the wall 𓈒 ݁ ₊

pairing. enhypen ot7 x reader

syn. literally just kisses against the wall with enhypen :’>

genre + warnings. fluff? suggestive? making out,,, literally just making out against a wall help me

wc. 1.9k (0.25k/member average… with jake’s as the exception… as always…)

a/n. help this is the most straightforward and out there and random fic ever help why does the title keep catching me off guard- but the idea of it alone gives me butterflies so maybe reading this will for you too,, enjoy :’>

❤︎ ⎯ lee HEESEUNG…

“careful not to hit your head, beautiful,” he said, catching the wall with his palm as your back hit the flat surface. he let out a tiny chuckle with a smirk that you could barely comprehend because not even a second later, his lips crashed right back onto yours, continuing right where he left off in your little make-out session.

he took the lead, first adjusting to find the best angle, arm leaning over you as his other hand held your jaw, tilting your head for better access. but amidst the passion-filled movements of his lips, he always had a way of keeping you at ease, allowing you to enjoy every second of it.

if it wasn’t for your body being held between his and the wall behind you, you would’ve been swept off your feet a long time ago.

your lips fit against his perfectly like a piece to a puzzle. being alone with him, the room was silent other than the sounds of your heavy breaths and lips repeatedly smashing against one other.

and he continued kissing you until your lips were sore and your heads spun in a drunken daze.

you stared at him as he pulled away, your mind empty as you consumed the sight of him, chest violently rising and falling, his fiery gaze never leaving your lips. and you watched as he dove down for yet another round.

❤︎ ⎯ park JONGSEONG…

as you were getting ready for the day to hang out with one of your friends, your phone lit up with an unexpected message from your boyfriend: hey, love, are you home? i’m outside :)

what was jongseong doing here?

you responded: coming!

running to the door, you opened it expectantly, only to find that your boyfriend wasn’t there. confused, you searched around for a second before your eyes landed on him, leaning on his car parked in front of your house. you smiled and quickly ran over.

“what are you doing here?” you asked excitedly.

“i don’t know,” he paused. “i just missed you.”

he stood up straight, back now off his car as he walked closer to you. so much so, however, that it caused you to back up, bumping straight into the wall of the vehicle.

you gulped. “you could’ve just called me or something.”

your last words nearly got lost in your throat by the way jongseong’s body was now trapping you between him and the car.

he was so close. were his lips always this pretty?

“but calling you wouldn’t allow me to do this…”

with his eyes fastened on your lips, he brought a hand to your chin and immediately pulled you in to meet your lips with his.

your heartbeat quickened at the unannounced gesture, yet you couldn’t help but melt under his touch, kissing him back.

as he placed one hand on the car behind you to lean in closer, the other circled to the side of your face, tilting your head to find that perfect angle.

you don’t know what had gotten into him, but were you complaining? not. at. all.

❤︎ ⎯ sim JAEYUN…

a gasp ran past your lips as jake pushed you against the hallway wall, a look of desire in his eyes, yet he made sure to support you so that you wouldn’t get hurt—the way he was gentle with his hands but sharp like daggers with his eyes.

he pressed an unexpectedly delicate kiss against yours lips, starting out soft but quickly escalating to something much more passionate, taking your breath away within seconds.

he pulled away, both of you panting as you got lost in each others’ eyes.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” jake whispered as his thumb caressed your cheekbone, finding himself unable to pull away from your loving stare. he smiled, wondering how he managed to ever get this lucky.

you chuckled. “yes, you tell me that every day.”

he let out a small and breathy laugh before calming into a soft smile. “yeah.”

eventually, and using all his willpower, he teared his eyes away, only to examine the rest of your facial features, and with every passing second—every inch of skin his eyes ran over—the beating of his heart grew more apparent to his ear drums. and his immense love for you broke down every bit and piece of strength he had in his soul, and he couldn’t help it. he just had to kiss you again.

and that’s exactly what he did, and it took only mere milliseconds before his lips found their way back home to yours, right where they belonged.

you smiled into the kiss, secretly wanting and waiting for this moment just as much as he had been. you savoured every second of it.

yet no amount of time could have felt long enough for the two of you. he could kiss you for 12 hours straight, and you’d still instantly miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

so when he pulled away, it left you hungry for more.

“don’t stop,” you quickly let out before immediately pulling him by the collar and bringing his lips to yours, so soft and sweet.

❤︎ ⎯ park SUNGHOON…

closed eyes, shared breaths and lips moving in sync against one another, you felt the delicacy of sunghoon’s fingertips brushing along the front of your jaw, finding their way to the back to cup the side of your head. this slow and soft movement shot shivers down every part of your body, causing your heartbeat to race faster than ever.

your back was pressed flush onto the wall of your room as sunghoon’s body was to yours before he pulled away ever so slightly to readjust and tilt his head in a way to get better access, returning just as quick as he was to leave.

the taste of coffee and creamy chocolate from the tiramisu you shared at the restaurant earlier lingered on his lips, and you were enjoying every bit of it.

mouths still moving with one another, you ran your hands up his chest, but your limbs grew weak with every kiss, your fingers barely gripping the fabric of his dress shirt hanging over his shoulders.

you felt his other hand pressed into your waist somehow gently firm, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer.

when he separated his lips from yours, eyes glued to your mouth, he whispered as you took his breath away—figuratively and literally—“you don’t understand how much i love you.”

“no?” you asked innocently.

all he did was stare at you in response, you wouldn’t be surprised if this was him zoning out, mind only occupied with having his lips back on yours.

you whispered, “then show me, hoon.”

and those four words were all it took for the switch inside of him to flick, and in an instant, his lips were back on yours, the way they were meant to be.

❤︎ ⎯ kim SUNOO…

“hey, let’s try this trend i found,” your boyfriend said as he approached you, who was conveniently already leaning against the wall. “put your hands together for a sec.”

“hm?” you hummed, confused, but proceeded to follow along anyways. you clasped your hands together. “like this?”

sunoo nodded, satisfied.

“now wha—”

leaving you no time to process, immediately, your own intertwined hands were lifted up above your head at the same time your boyfriend pressed his lips against yours in what was easily the hottest kiss he had given you yet.

but he pulled away sooner than you would’ve liked, separating from you far enough to put your hands gently back down, but unable to let one of your hands go from his.

you pouted. and suddenly reality came crashing onto you and your face grew warm.

“w-what was that for?” you asked, with a shy smile, your voice weak.

“i thought the trend would be fun to do with you.”

“are you saying it wasn’t what you expected?” you asked, disappointment laced in your voice.

he paused. “oh, it was beyond what i expected.”

“so you liked it?”

he didn’t answer, and just gave you a smirk in response instead.

“then do it again,” you said.

and without a moment to spare, he quickly dove in for another kiss, bringing his hand interlaced with yours back up beside your head, body leaning into yours to get impossibly closer.

silly trend.

❤︎ ⎯ yang JUNGWON…

“hi, baby,” jungwon said as he watched you walk through the door, returning home, “i missed you.”

you let out a small laugh. “it’s only been an hour.”

“an hour too long,” he added as he made his way to you, his arms open before you found your way into them, realizing how much you had been craving his embrace all day.

he pulled away slightly, causing you to look into his eyes filled with a glint of desire you had never seen before.

“w—” and before you could barely make out a sound, he had already brought his lips to yours in the softest kiss he had ever given you.

it was a long kiss that started out slow but quickly grew faster and harder—much more passionate and fiery than earlier. before you knew it, your back was against the wall, his body pressed against yours, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

but after a few seconds, he pulled back, hands dropping to your waist as he cleared his throat with a look of guilt overcoming his features. “sorry, i—”

“won—” you started, “don’t stop.”

his face washed over with relief and he smiled before taking your face into the palms of his hands and kissed you again.

❤︎ ⎯ nishimura RIKI…

“you liked that, didn’t you?” riki asked you teasingly, his forehead pressed against your own—funnily, kind of like how your back was to the wall at the moment.

your recollection of how you two got yourselves into this position was blurry. the countless kisses he had already given you left you in a trance. all you knew was that you craved for more.

his eyes followed his fingers as they brushed your jaw, leading their way to your chin, before his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

you grew weaker with every touch of his skin to yours. why was he teasing you like this?!

“riki, just kiss me already.”

you would’ve said those words sooner if you had known that was all it would take for him to return his lips back to yours. in an instant, he was kissing you again, this time deeper and more passionate. it had a fire to it—or maybe that was the effect he had on you whenever he would treat you this way, causing a heat to rise and warm your face.

he rarely acted this way out in public—always feeling more comfortable showing you love alone in a more intimate matter.

but even so, rarely did it ever evolve into something like this: your body pushed against the wall of your home, his body pressed right into yours, missing your touch after a long and busy week for both of you.

but if it meant having to survive the toughest of days just to be with him, you’d live through them over and over again, because moments like this—time with him—made it all worth it.

with one last kiss, he pulled away ever so slightly, lips swollen and eyes in a daze as he whispered, nearly breathless, “we should do this more often.”

a/n. idk what’s up with my writing style lately but here you go :D hope you enjoyed :> i don’t write like this often so lmk what you think? :’>

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[rosygaze]

cupid

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

summary: you swear cupid hates you but maybe he’ll finally take mercy when you meet eddie. 

warnings: reader insecurity, slight period misogyny, mostly fluff, eddie being a cutie patootie, inspired by cupid by fifty fifty <3 

word count: 2.4k+

masterlist

You were starting to think that Cupid had a personal vendetta against you.

Three failed dates in a row, all with different guys.

You were optimistic about the first date. After hitting it off with a friend of a friend at a party, you agreed to go on a date with them—a simple movie and dinner.  Only you didn’t make it to dinner since your date started hysterically sobbing after watching the newest rom-com. Apparently, he was missing his ex, and seeing two people in love on screen was the breaking point.

The second date came and went. Another movie and dinner but this time you actually made it to dinner. Which you quickly regretted when he kept trying to play footsie with you under the table. At the end of the date, he leaned in for a kiss. You panicked and dodged which had your date kissing the brick wall behind you instead. You didn’t hear back from him again.

On your third date, you lowered your expectations exponentially. You wanted to play it safe and have a coffee date. It started out normal enough. In fact, you were even having fun. He made you laugh until the conversation drifted to the topic of the future. You told him you wanted to get out of this small town and get a job.

For some reason, that made him extremely upset. He started talking about how women shouldn’t ever work and that the only work you should do is cleaning the house, taking care of the kids, and all that 1950s bullshit. You stared at him, mouth agape, not knowing how to respond.

When he was done with his tirade, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. You waited a few seconds before jumping out of your chair and sprinting out of the coffee shop at a speed that should’ve qualified you for the Olympics. You didn’t stop walking until you reached the park down the street and sat down on the empty bench to catch your breath. You looked at your surroundings and grimaced.

Couples.

Everywhere.

A couple having a picnic on the grass. A couple kissing sweetly on the bench across from you. An elderly couple taking a midday stroll. There was even a pair of kids hugging while their parents cooed at them. It’s like the universe was playing some cruel prank on you.

Did Cupid enjoy watching your love life crash and burn? Did he take some sick enjoyment out of hitting you with one of his arrows and shoving you in the direction of another failed love interest?

What was so great about love anyways? It can’t possibly be as good as all the movies and songs made it out to be. Surely, everyone had to be lying or delusional.

And yet…

You wondered what love was like.

The kind of love that kept you smiling all day, that made you see the beauty in the world. The type that swept you off your feet and made you feel like floating through the clouds. The type that completed you.

This is why you kept going on these dates, giving that little cherub second chances in case he finally takes mercy on you and gives you the right man.

Because someone had to be out there for you. Right?

You groaned and slid down the bench enough for you to lean your head on the back of the bench. Watching the clouds float across the sky, you wished the overwhelming loneliness in your chest could float away just as easily. Tears pricked your eyes and you tried desperately not to let them fall. You would not cry here, not in public. You can save the crying for your room like you usually did.  

Despite your best efforts, tears still trickled down your cheeks. You huffed in frustration. You are pathetic.

All of a sudden a sharp pain shot from your head. Your eyes shot open and you sat up. With crossed eyes, you could make out a blurry form of a stick. You gripped the stick and realized that it was literally stuck to your head by suction. You dug your nails into the sides of the rubber to release it. Rubbing your forehead, you finally got a closer look at the toy arrow that hit you.

What. the. hell.

You glanced around the park, looking for who could’ve hit you. Turning around until you faced the open field behind you where you saw two people: a short, curly-haired kid and a tall, long-haired man.

The latter was holding a toy bow looking incredibly guilty.

You blinked at each other for a couple of seconds, in shock about what happened. The boy nudged him and he came stumbling forward. You stood up as well and wiped your tears away. God, you hoped you didn’t have a giant red circle on your face.

The ten-foot distance between the two of you felt bigger than it was. The awkwardness alone almost made you turn around but you pushed through. Once you were close enough, you stopped and took him in.

Everything about him screamed ‘danger’. He wore a black shirt that said ‘Coroded Coffin’ and dark jeans with a chain hanging from his belt. You wondered how he wasn’t sweating under the sun.

Black polish chipped off his nails and a collection of chunky rings adorned his fingers. Trailing your eyes up, you saw the patches of dark ink etched into his skin. He was all hard features and sharp edges that had you slightly antsy but when you finally met his eyes, that feeling flew out the window.

He had these big baby browns that softened his entire look. His long hair was wild and framed his face. The combination made him look slightly like a puppy. He had full, pink lips that opened and closed slightly as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

Stop ogling him. He shot a projectile at you.

You cleared your throat, deciding to break the silence. “I assume this is yours?” You held the arrow out to him.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and took the arrow from your hand gently. “Yeah! I’m really, really sorry. I swear I wasn’t aiming for -” He stopped mid-sentence and you saw his eyes flicker with worry. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt that much.” You waved a hand over your forehead, dismissively.

“No, not that but I am glad to hear I didn’t hurt you.” He smiled lightly but as fast as it came, a frown settled in its place. “You were, uh… were you crying?”

Taken aback, you furrowed your brows at him. How he could’ve known? “Uh…”

“Sorry! That’s weird. It’s really not my place. It’s just… your eyes are red but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He rambled and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually paid attention to you like this.  

“I’m okay.” He nodded but, ultimately, didn’t look convinced. You sighed. “I just had a bad date.”

“He didn’t hurt you did he? We can track him down. I’ve got a weapon.” He held up the plastic bow.

You giggled and that made him relax just a tad. His shoulders dropped and the wrinkle between his brows smoothed over. “He didn’t, don’t worry. No need to wield a deadly weapon on him.”

“Yet.” He narrowed his eyes at you but had a playful smirk.

“Yet.” You copied his expression. The tension had disappeared and lighthearted laughter took its place.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He introduced himself.

Eddie. It suited him, you thought.

You gave him your name. A charming smile tugged on his lips and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Pretty.” Eddie said under his breath.

Your cheeks flushed even more.

“Eddie, did you get the arrow?” A voice called from behind Eddie. You peered over his shoulder and saw the younger boy. Only now did you notice that he was decked out in a full medieval costume, his curly hair peeking over the edge of his pointy hat.

“Yeah, dude.” Eddie held up the arrow.

“Then come on! You gotta help me with my shield.” The boy whined which made you chuckle slightly. Eddie looked back at you and smiled.

“In a sec, man!” He yelled back but kept his eyes on you. A childish groan came from behind Eddie which had him rolling his eyes playfully. “Sorry about that.”

“Your brother?” You asked.

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, surprise clear in his voice. “Yeah, he is.” A fond smile spread across his face. You could see the resemblance in their unruly curls.

“So, what’s with the outfit?” Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you could see Dustin practicing with the shield, swinging it at invisible monsters.

“He’s testing out his costume for the Faire.” He said, casually.

“The Faire?”

“The Renaissance Faire?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You shook your head, not understanding. “It’s like an amusement park for history buffs. People dress up, eat, drink, roleplay. It’s great.” He explained.

“Have you been before?” You wanted to hear more, both equally fascinated by the concept and Eddie’s voice.  

“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s the little guy’s first time and he wants to go all out. He said he wanted to try his costume out in the correct environment. He’s a bit of a nerd like that and that’s saying something coming from me. King of the nerds, right here.” Eddie held his arms out as if presenting himself and bowed low. You smiled at him.

You haven’t stopped smiling since he made you laugh the first time. “It’s sweet that you spend time with him like that.”

“It’s nothing, really. He’s a special kid.” He scratched the back of his head. You tried not to notice the slight flex in his muscles.

“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.” You said, managing to pull your eyes away from his arms.

“You know.” Eddie started, looking a bit timid. “I’ve got an extra ticket. You could come with us if you want. It’s this weekend in Indianapolis.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be.” Eddie stepped a quarter of an inch closer to you. The proximity made you the slightest bit dizzy. “Maybe you’d have some fun. Forget about the asshole who made you cry.”

“The asshole?” Your eyebrow quirked up.

“Every man who makes a woman cry is an asshole and should be jailed.” He said with the most serious expression that you knew he wasn’t joking around.

“My, what a gentleman.” You found yourself inching closer to him too.

“My uncle taught me well.” Eddie puffed his chest out proudly. “So what do you say?”

“The Faire does sound really fun.” You paused. “But I think you should spend time with your brother. Since it’s his first time and everything.” “Oh, y-yeah. You’re right.” Eddie’s cheeks were turning red. He started to move back when you spoke again.

“But… maybe you could tell me all about it after? Over coffee?” You offered, biting your lip shyly.

Eddie froze then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?” You nodded, just as excited. “Fuck yeah! I’d love to.”

“I should… uh, give you my number. So you can call me?” That initial bout of confidence was fading away. The intensity of Eddie’s gaze made your knees weak.

“That seems like a good plan.” He nodded.

You pulled your pen out of your bag and dug around for a piece of paper but you couldn’t find anything. Pausing to think, your eyes drifted to the spattering of tattoos on Eddie’s arm. “May I?” You pointed at the back of his hand.

“Go ahead.” He gave you his hand. “I’m not afraid of some ink.”

You let his hand rest on your palm while your other hand scribbled your number on his skin. You had to write slower than usual to make sure the ink stuck. His eyes were burning holes in the side of your face. You spared a glance up at him and the corner of his lips twitched up when you met his gaze.

Ducking your chin, you tried to finish writing but your pen stopped working on the last number. Your lips pouted, petulantly. Eddie must’ve noticed since his thumb rubbed against the skin of your wrist, comfortingly. If you were a cartoon character, you were sure there would be a comical amount of steam coming off you right now with how hot your body felt.

A couple of taps against your thigh and the ink started flowing again. After the last stroke on the final number, you added a small heart beside it.

“Beautiful.” Eddie said. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you nor did he let go of your hand. “I should have you design my next tattoo.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause my little hearts will definitely look good with that.” You poked the bats on his forearm.  

“Damn right, it will. Hearts are metal.”

Before you could continue your banter, Dustin’s voice cut through the air. “Edward Munson, stop flirting and help me!” He had his hands on his hips and looked extremely cross with his brother. You let go of Eddie’s hand in embarrassment.  

“I’m coming!” Eddie’s cheeks were red but his eyes were full of amusement. “As much as I’d love to stay, it looks like I gotta go.”

“I figured.” You were actually sad that your time with him was up. “You two have fun this weekend.”

“Thanks. Don’t go on any more dates with assholes, okay.” Eddie still had that playful grin but you heard the slightest hint of unease in his voice.

“I won’t.” You assured him.

You said your goodbyes and walked away. Every couple of steps, you looked back at Eddie. You felt like a teenager again, willing for her crush to look at her in class. You took one last look at Eddie and, as fate would have it, he was turning to look at you too. Both your eyes went wide, a similar situation to your meeting just a couple of minutes ago.

The two of you laughed and Eddie drove the toy arrow into his chest dramatically. He threw his body back on the ground and rolled in the grass. When he got up, he had a smidge of dirt on his cheek but that smile never dimmed. You’d be thinking about that smile all day.

That very night your phone rang.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Eddie said over the receiver. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “Neither could I.”  

This is your last chance, Cupid. You thought. Please let him be the one.

[hitomisuzuya]

Stepcest. DNI if it makes you uncomfortable. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scaramouche giving and receiving. Blowjob. Face sitting. Corruption. Pussy drunk! Scara

Excuse this filth, the period horny is real😭😳 Don't mind this.

Scaramouche knew you would come to him. Like the good girl he knew you were, you tip toed as quietly as you could to his room, taking get care to ease his bedroom door closed just as quietly. It helped that you'd gone downstairs earlier just to announce that you were going to bed.

The moms thought you were already asleep. His own mother having no idea when she knocked on his bedroom door to tell him that she would be in her office if he needed anything that you were on your knees between his legs, taking his cock down your throat with your ass lifted in the air for him to admire.

Scaramouche held his breath, swallowing back a groan as his hand tightened on your hair in warning before he let go of it. He knew you would moan too loudly if he pushed your mouth all the way down on his cock, letting you kitten lick it instead while he bit an annoyed response back at his mom.

He kept his eyes on you the entire time, his hand stroking through your hair while he waited to hear footsteps retreating away from his door. His cock pulsed against your tongue, the warm, wet sensation flattening on the vein in his cock made him melt against his sheets.

The way you peered adoringly at him, your mouth paying such attention on the sensitive head of his cock as you took it into your mouth to suck on more than showed him that this was purely about his pleasure.

His sweet step sister was servicing him and he couldn't get enough of that.

His corruption was sinking in so well.

His moans were soft and shaky as his hand found the back of your head. "Good girl," He praised, making you moan muffled on his cock. His hand tightened on your hair again.

The amount of control you surrendered to him when you let him bob your mouth up and down on his cock, his hips thrusting into your mouth was intoxicating to him.

Scaramouche is just as love in you as you are with him. And there was not one single thing that could keep him from you.

Drool pooled from your mouth as you gagged, coughing as his cock hit the back of your throat. "Shh," He cooed encouragingly, stroking a hand soothingly through your hair, "take it like a good girl and start sucking again," He smirked as you moaned happily on his cock, eager to please to him the letter as you recovered.

His cock pulsed in your mouth, your tongue lapping warm around it as you sucked. He shivered as your fingers ghosted and caressed the insides of his thighs, his legs shaking as he fucked himself into your throat.

Scaramouche's thumb caressed your cheek, a husky groan sounding from him as his cock ribboned cum into your mouth. "Such a pretty slut, swallowing like a good girl," Your mouth felt heavenly closing around his cock as you swallowed.

He took your mouth off his cock, letting you breath for a moments while he slid down onto his back on his bed. His hands found your hips as you sat up, guiding your cunt above his mouth.

His good girl deserved a treat for letting letting him use your mouth like that.

His tongue swept out to lick between your folds. Your hands immediately tightened on the headboard, the piercing in his tongue prodding against your clit as he swirled his tongue made it throb.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as you grinded your puffy cunt needily on his tongue. He enjoyed watching you fall apart, struggling not to be too loud as he sucked on your clit.

Your pussy clenched, his piercing teasing at your hole and making your back arch as you rode his tongue. He was drunk on the taste of you, his tongue lapping starved on your clit.

Your legs shook as his tongue nudged inside of you, your mind nearly shattering as his piercing scraped between your sensitive walls. You were a fucked out mess above him, his mouth sloppily working your cunt over until you creamed shaking onto his tongue.

You looked so cute struggling so desperately not scream into your hand in pleasure, soft broken moans and sobs sounding from you instead as he tongue fucked you through your orgasm.

Scaramouche was breaking you more and more each time.

[aaagustd]

holi-blaze || jeon jungkook (m)

title: holi-blaze

pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: f*ckbuddies/unestablished relationship, smut, mature/explicit, 18+

summary: it's your first time spending the holidays together, and jungkook isn't in the mood. but... you think you can change his mind.

warnings: listen…..“that’s OUR man, thank you to OUR man!!!”, swearing, mentions w**d, mentions Christmas/holidays, protected s*x but mentions unprotected s*x, spanking, reader wears lingerie, a** worshipping, back shots, missionary, b*ndage/restraints, f*ngering, teasing/foreplay, a touch of roleplay (Jungkook might have a little crush on Martha May Whovier), back scratching, praise, squ*rting, tongue kissing, make up s*x, Dom/sub themes, n*pple sucking, biting, begging, some aftercare, mistletoe… or not??, idk why i’m smiling but i love them lol

wc: 2.5k

release date: december 30th, 2023; 11:33pm est

note: it’s been about 4 months since i posted. this is embarrassing. anyway, i didn’t edit this bc i didn’t have a computer. this’ll be the last update for this series for a while so i hope this holds you. i have a bigger project i’m working on currently so… i hope to see you in 2024. love you !!

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 version | inbox | join the taglist

“Aye, I’m home! Where are…”

Jungkook finds you standing in his living room when he enters his apartment. He probably expected to find you bundled up on the couch watching a holiday marathon, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing.  

That was until you walked in and discovered everything he’s been hiding from you. Now you know why he hasn’t invited you over in two weeks.

All month he’s been complaining about the holidays and pissing on your parade whenever you get excited about the TikTok holiday DIYs. Only for him to decorate his entire living room like it’s a Holiday Cheermeister. He definitely has outdone himself with this surprise. Now, it’s time to return the favor.

His keys fall on the floor, and you can only imagine what’s going through his mind.

“Oh…” He takes a long pause, processing the image before him. “Damn, love.”

You hope that’s a good sign. This is your first time wearing lingerie, and you aren’t even sure if Jungkook is into it.

“Um… Your keys?”

“Come here,” he beckons.

Your marabou heels move across the floor, feathers tickling your oiled skin with each step. Your matching robe—thin and sheer—barely conceals your lack of clothing underneath it. You can feel the fabric dragging behind you as it's carried by a gentle breeze.

Jungkook’s brown eyes never look away as you strut in his direction. When you approach him, you’re nearly swept off your feet by how good he smells. 

His finger motions for you to spin and show him the entire outfit.

“Twirl, baby.”

You purposefully take your time and give him the 360 view, letting your robe fall once your back is facing him. You’re starting to feel a bit more confident now that you’ve gotten the big reveal out of the way. Jungkook biting his bottom lip tells you that he likes what he sees so far.

“Sexy. Like Martha May.”

You whisper to yourself as you take a step closer. “Martha May, huh?”

Jungkook nods.

“ Yeah… I’m high key fucking with it, though.”

Now, that’s good to hear because he’s given you an idea.

“Well, thank you… Mr. Grinch.”

Jungkook tilts his head, pretending to be confused. Eventually, he reveals a mischievous grin.

“I’ve been that bad, huh?”

“The worst,” you reply.

You don’t pull away when he reaches for your hand. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve had any contact. You’re deprived; desperate. 

Even if you were still mad at him, your pride is long gone. So, instead of pouncing on him, you allow him to guide you to the bedroom.

“It only gets worse, love.”

Well, damn.

“How much worse?” you quiz, already knowing the answer to the question. He looks over his shoulder as he opens his bedroom door.

“You’re gonna fuck around and find out if you keep playing with me.”

As Jungkook guides you into his room, you try to hold back your smile. You always find thrill in testing his patience. Whatever it takes for him to pound you into his mattress, you’ll try it.

Once inside, he walks over to the bed and sits on his bed. You grip onto his green bomber jacket while he caresses and gently kneads your thighs, making you melt into his hands. You push out your chest, so he can have a better look at the red lace that barely covers your tits.

He can’t stop himself from staring. His mouth waters as the sinful thoughts run through his mind. During his journey all over your body, his hand accidentally touches something you’re clutching in your right hand.

He frowns. “What are those for?”

You hold up the cordless lights that you snatched from your little desk tree at work with a smirk.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “They’re yours. Get creative.”

Jungkook stands up, and you place the cord in his hand. He gestures towards the bed, and tells you to get on it.

“Alright, go,” he orders.

“Okay.”

You climb on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees. He didn’t tell you to lie down, but you figured he’d appreciate seeing your outfit from this angle.

“Like this?”

“Just like that,” he approves.

It isn’t long before you feel the palms of his hands touching your ass. They’re still a little cold, but eventually heat up due to the warmth of your flesh. You know that he could do this for hours, just admiring the way it jiggles and how soft it feels in his hands. 

However, tonight he wastes no time giving your pussy attention, the opening in the center of your panties giving him easy access to your slit.

“Fuck.” 

His reaction makes you want to turn around and see his reaction, but you’re afraid you might ruin the foreplay and beg him to fuck you now. So, with clenched teeth, you try to suppress your eagerness to have him inside of you; but you’re already close to failing.

“One of these days I’m just gonna say fuck it and raw dog you.”

You lose control of your outbursts when he pushes his thumb into your pussy. You beg him for more, but he just pulls out, leaving you disappointed.

“Jungkook!”

He chuckles. “Alright, alright. Give me your hands, love.”

At Jungkook’s request, you move your hands behind you. 

He’s so close that his breath tickles the tiny hair on the back of your neck. Your body shivers as his fingers gently touch your skin, sliding down your arm until he reaches your hands.

When he speaks, the sound of his voice makes you weak. No matter how hard you clench your knees are nothing but jelly, making it nearly impossible to support your weight.

“You still like to be tied up and shit, right?”

Oh unholy fucking night.

“I do.”

“That’s my girl,” he boasts.

Your heart begins to race with excitement when you feel the cord tightening around your wrists. It doesn’t take Jungkook a long time to secure a few knots. 

“Is this okay? Not too tight?”

Despite your position once he bends you over again, your body is still relaxed. You know you’re in safe hands. He’s earned your trust when it comes to your body, so you don’t mind if he takes control. You actually enjoy it more than he does.

“No, I’m fine,” you answer. “I’m excited.”

“Hm. I can tell.” 

It is then you realize that your thighs are rubbing together, smearing a mess of your sticky juices between them. The sound of Jungkook spreading your legs has you burying your face in his sheets.

“No hiding.”

You lift your head and nod. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good. Do you remember we play?”

“You call the shots. I’m in control.”

Jungkook hums his approval, but before he can ask you anything else.

“...And I remember how to free myself,” you add. “Just in case.”

“You’re so perfect,” he praises. 

A bit of pride swells in your chest when he says this. He tells you this almost every day, but it still makes you smile from ear to ear.

The next thing you hear is Jungkook fishing for condoms in his nightstand drawer. Once he finds them, he returns and removes his clothes. You catch a glimpse of his figure behind you, and it’s that image you’ll hold on to when he’s taking you from behind. 

When Jungkook spreads your globes, a small moan escapes your lips despite your attempt to bite it back.

“Ready?”

“So, so…ready,” you reply.

You whimper as the tip of his dick probes gently at your entrance. Your body is shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It feels like it's been months since you’ve felt his thick cock stretching you open. 

“I know,” he coos. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself; and eventually, your muscles relax. Jungkook steals this moment to slowly slide into you.

“Fuck!”

“Gotta fuck you now, love,” Jungkook groans. 

He starts fucking you slowly, but fast enough to have an orgasm brewing deep within your core. 

You can hear him panting as he digs his nails into your skin. Your shoes drop to the floor because your toes are curling from the pleasure you’re receiving. If Jungkook weren’t gripping your waist, you’d be lying on your belly because you’re trembling too much to keep yourself up.

“You feel like a fucking glove.”

You know he can feel your walls squeezing and hugging his cock, desperately trying to keep him inside. Your moans become louder which each slap Jungkook delivers to your ass. The pain ripples down your globes, traveling straight to your dripping pussy—leaking onto his throbbing dick.

“So deep…”

It’s not long before you’re squirting all over him. He laughs, not caring about his ruined sheets.

“There she goes.”

Jungkook then starts loosening your restraints, leaving you confused. You’re afraid you messed up, but he assures you that’s not the case.

“I need to see you,” he utters.

Jungkook frees your hands and flips you over swiftly, leaving your head spinning. He allows your eyes to focus before he lowers himself and aligns with your entrance once more. You wrap your limbs around him, bringing him closer so you can feel his warm skin pressed against yours.

Your wetness allows him to enter you smoothly. The intrusion isn’t as intense as before, but it leaves you breathless due to your sensitivity. 

You accept the kisses he leaves down your neck. He drags his hot tongue across your skin agonizingly slow while he’s buried inside you, not moving an inch until you’re begging him to.

“Baby, please fuck me. I can’t—”

“Just give me a second, love,” he whispers.

Jungkook’s mouth finds your breasts, and he takes his time giving each of them attention. Your back arches off the bed when he wraps his lips around your nipple. 

You try to be patient, but your body can’t handle any more teasing. Your hips begin to move on their own, immediately grabbing Jungkook’s attention.

“So eager,” he teases, gripping your hips to stop you.

“Jungkook, I need to cum.”

“Yeah?... Wanna make another mess?”

“Please.”

He pulls out and then with a snap of his hips, he slams into you. He does it again, and again—making you scream his name. You drag your nails down his back, making him hiss from the stinging pain traveling across his skin. 

“Do it,” he grunts, fucking you deeper. “Cum.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You stop holding it in, and finally allow the tightened coil to snap. Pleasure ripples through your body, and everything goes silent except for the familiar ringing in your ears. Your eyes roll back and your body stiffens in Jungkook’s arms. 

“Fuck! You’re squeezing so tight.”

“I’m cumming!” you scream.

He keeps fucking you, talking you through it until you finally calm down enough to relax your limbs. Jungkook’s soothing voice brings you back to reality.

“Good, baby. That’s good.”

You lie on your back, tears in your eyes as you watch him above you. His body trembles as he tries to hold on, but you know he’s close. You can tell by the way he twitches inside of you.

“This is my shit, understand? My pussy,” he claims. “Okay?”

You nod weakly, still feeling the bliss of your release.

“Yeah, it’s yours. Only yours.”

“And you’re mine too, right?”

He doesn’t even have to ask. Of course, you are.

“Always.”

You pull him closer and kiss his lips, but both of you become greedy for more. His strokes are gentle but you still gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure start to fill the room as you deepen the kiss. 

You’re dizzy by the time he pulls away, unable to focus on anything but the lingering taste of him on your lips. Once again, his voice brings you back. 

“Damn it,” he growls.

After two more uncoordinated thrusts, he reaches his peak and spills his warm cum into the condom. Panting and breathless, he falls on top of you, and you start running your fingers through his hair.

You stay in this position for only a few minutes, before he’s climbing out of bed.

“Wait—”

You try to grab his arm, but he grabs his sweats and slips away, leaving a small pout on your face.

“I’ll be right back, love.”

You sigh. “Okay.”

You wait a few minutes before you let your curiosity run wild. You begin to wonder what he’s doing, so you decide to go look for him. 

Just as you enter the living room, Jungkook appears from the kitchen with an ice pack and a bottle of water.

“How are you?” he asks, handing you the little blue compress. “It’s for your wrists.”

“I’m okay, you?”

Jungkook nods. “Still seeing stars, but I’ve never felt better.”

Silence follows, but it’s peaceful. You use the moment to take in everything once again.

“Thank you,” you say eventually.

“For?”

“All this!”

You point around the room at all of the decor he must have spent hours putting up. It could honestly have been a little stocking and you still would have appreciated his effort. You know he only did it for you, even though he wasn’t in the mood.

“I was just trying to make it up to you,” he shrugs.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

You smile. “Well, thanks Grinchy. But I didn’t want to force you.”

He promises that he didn’t feel obligated, and you take his word for it. It’s been a challenge but you’ve learned to accept when he offers to do something nice for you. So if it involves spending time with him, you’ll accept every gift he gives you. 

Placing the ice pack on the coffee table, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. 

“I’m trying, love,” he sighs.

“You’re doing great,” you assure.

“No, I mean… It’s been two weeks, and you’re still wearing that and…”

You realize he’s lowkey asking for round two. All you need is some water and you’ll be good to go.

“I’m on top this time,” you call out over your shoulder. You’re almost halfway across the room when he stops you.

“Hold on…”

You turn around only to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“Hm?”

Jungkook lifts one of his hands and pulls out a tiny sealed bag. It doesn’t take you but a second to figure out what it is. But what leaves you puzzled is the way he’s holding it over his head.

“I don’t know much about this shit but, I think you’re still supposed to kiss me.”

Wow. He can be cute when he wants to. Of course, you return to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s cute, Jungkook. But I think you got it wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?”

This time you grab his hand, and he doesn’t resist when you start dragging him towards the bedroom.

“I think I’m supposed to put my pussy on your face, then you kiss me,” you propose.

“Okay, maybe this holiday shit isn’t so bad.”

Shaking your head, you make your way through the dark hallway until you reach Jungkook’s room. 

“Wait until you see the chain I bought you,” you mumble.

“Huh?”

“Nothing, baby. Come on.”

You take him to bed, and his apartment is anything but silent for the rest of the night. This was your first Christmas together; but best believe, a lot of traditions were made.

[navybrat817]

Within You

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze. Word Count: Over 3.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public, breeding kink, spooky vibes, established relationship, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Welcome to Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @ghotifishreads who suggested soft!dark Bucky with a breeding kink and @tumblin-theworldaway for listening to me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @vonalyn ​, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was your first Autumn with Bucky. The two of you had been dating for less than a year, but you were completely enamored with him. Not only was he doting and smart, but he was a man who made your heart flutter in your chest whenever he looked your way. Even thinking about him sets your heart ablaze. He was the one for you.

“Come on,” you smiled as you took his hand and pulled him toward the pumpkin patch entrance.

The two of you took turns regarding date nights and outings. Today, you chose a pumpkin patch. You told him it wouldn’t feel like Fall if you didn’t go and listed off the fun things to do. There was a hayride, pumpkins and apples to pick, a corn maze, and much more. He obliged since he knew it would make you happy. He even gave you a small smile when you told him the website claimed that the maze was tricky, but you knew he’d find his way out easily.

You stopped and inhaled the cool air, the scent of warm apple cider drifting your way from the stand nearby. The temperature dropped just enough that you were comfortable in a sweater and the sun peeked out through the clouds to greet you. It wasn't overly crowded and it was the perfect weather. Even better because you had the perfect man by your side.

It was going to be a good day.

“Where should we start?” You asked, smiling when a small group of kids headed toward one of the tractors. “Hayride? Pick a pumpkin to carve later?”

“Where do you want to start?” Bucky replied, a small breeze blowing some of his dark brown hair back.

Your answer died in your throat as you gazed at him. His hair was the third thing you noticed about him, long enough that it almost touched his shoulders and soft to the touch. You loved running your fingers through it, whether it was to soothe him and pull it when he was between your thighs. The second thing you took notice of was the massive size of your now boyfriend. Over 6’4” with broad shoulders, a puffed out chest, and thighs made for riding, he intimated most while he excited you.

His cool blue eyes, of course, were the first thing. Gazing into them was like swimming in a private sea, ready to ride a gentle wave or get swept away in a storm depending on his mood. You could handle the entire range of emotions because you were his girl. It was that simple.

“You’re staring, doll,” he smiled, your cheeks warm at being caught. If any other guy called you "doll", it would've sounded silly. It was endearing coming from him.

“Well, I can't help it. You’re gorgeous,” you said.

“You are gorgeous,” he argued, the compliment sending more heat to your cheeks.

“You said that this morning,” you teased. The two of you moved in together recently and you had a hard time getting out of bed some days. Waking up beside him was like a dream, but it was your reality.

“And I'll say it again,” he smiled before a girl stopped in front of the two of you with a tray.

“Hi,” she greeted with an ear-to-ear smile. “Would either of you care for a sample of cider? We have warm and chilled.”

“Ooh,” you smiled, glancing between the cups. You loved apple cider. “I'll take warm, please.”

“Same. Thanks,” Bucky said, selecting cups for each of you. He blew on his before he drank it, a weird look crossing his face as he swallowed. “Is something on the bottom of my cup?”

“Nothing on mine,” you said, glancing at his cup once you tried your cider. “I think it's a sticker. Is it a cauldron?”

“Oh! You got the lucky, special sample!” the girl grinned as you and Bucky shared a confused look. She balanced the tray in one hand as she handed your boyfriend an orange coupon and took the empty cups from you. “Free cider for two. Enjoy!”

“Thanks,” Bucky said before she went to give samples to others.

“Lucky guy,” you smiled, raising an eyebrow as he slowly licked his lips. “You okay?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yeah. Was just warmer than I expected.”

“You didn't burn your tongue, did you?”

“No, but you should massage your tongue with mine anyway,” he half joked.

You smiled and nodded toward the maze. “Why don’t we check that out first?”

“So, you’d rather check out a maze instead of soothing your boyfriend's tongue?”

You giggled as you made your way to the start, grabbing a small sheet of paper. There were different sets of “animal tracks” to find throughout the maze. Anyone who found them all got a prize. “Why check out a maze when I can check you out?” You asked, unable to keep a straight face. “That was cheesy.”

“It wasn’t cheesy,” he said before his smile widened. “It was corny.”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed more. One thing about your boyfriend, he could always bring a smile to your face. “You think you’re so…”

A little boy ran out of the maze with a smile before he lost his footing and pitched forward, his sheet of paper floating to the ground as it flew from his hand. You rushed over to help when he began to cry, carefully helping the poor child sit up. “Ouch,” he sniffled.

“Hey. You okay?” you gently asked, making sure to keep your demeanor calm as you brushed some of the dirt away. You also grabbed his sheet before it could blow away. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

He wiped his face and pointed to his knee once he rolled up his pant leg. “Right here.”

“Okay. Let’s take a look,” you nodded as Bucky joined you, crouching down on the other side of the boy. He looked worried, too. Minus the small scrape, he looked fine overall. “Poor little guy. Scrapes are no fun. But you know what? You’re a strong little boy.”

“I am?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yeah. Very strong,” Bucky agreed. "My girl wouldn't lie to you."

It was sweet how he spoke of you. “And you found all the animals, so you get a prize,” you smiled, showing him his paper where all of them were shaded. “You’re strong and smart,” you added, which brought a smile to his face, too.

“Timmy!” a woman shouted as she jogged out to the maze. “I told you not to run off. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, taking your hand so you could get him to his feet. “Hurts, but I’m strong and smart.”

Timmy’s mom bent down to inspect his knee herself before she gave you a relieved smile. “Thank you for helping him. How can I repay you?”

“That's not necessary. We're glad we could help,” you said, making sure he had his sheet. “You enjoy your prize and listen to your mom, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, waving as he went with his mom. “Thanks!”

“Cute little guy,” you smiled as Bucky slowly stood up. Your boyfriend had a few expressions that you were used to seeing, but you couldn’t read the current look he gave you. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. “What?”

“Why haven't I knocked you up yet?"

You opened your mouth to say something, a feverish and unexpected heat moving through your body. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard what I said,” he said, his piercing gaze rooting you to the spot. “Just wondering why I haven't."

Though you knew Bucky was the man for you, the topic of kids hadn’t come up much. Partially because you hadn’t been together a year yet. Wouldn’t it be too soon to have a little one running around when you weren’t even engaged? Not that the two of you had to get married to have kids.

Maybe him seeing me comfort Timmy brought it to the front of his mind.

“I don’t know, Bucky. Why haven’t you knocked me up yet?” you teased. You almost shrank under his gaze a moment later when he didn’t laugh or crack a smile.

“Maybe I should. We can go home and get started right now,” he said. There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “This would be a fun place to bring our kids one day. Don't you think?"

“Why don’t we talk about it after the maze?”

He looked hurt for a split second and you almost assured you weren’t blowing him off. You wouldn't do that. It was merely a serious talk for another time. “Sure. After the maze,” he agreed, taking your hand as you made your way back over.

A chill ran down your spine when you walked through the entrance. It was strange. You weren’t afraid, especially since it wasn’t dark outside. So where did the unexpected chill come from?

“You okay?” Bucky asked, his voice a little rougher than usual as his grip tightened on your hand. Did he feel weird being in here, too? “I didn't freak you out, did I?”

“I'm fine and you didn't freak me out. You know you can tell me anything,” you replied, shaking it off the chill as the two of you began to walk through. The maze took up almost a third of the entire place, the stalks high enough that neither of you could see over them. “I think we should find the werewolf tracks first. Because they're one of your favorite animals.”

Before you could turn right down one of the paths, he brought his mouth close to your face. “That and I wouldn’t mind sinking my teeth in and leaving my mark on you.”

The breath rushed out of your lungs when you turned your head and caught the darkness in his eyes. His pupils were larger than normal as he stepped closer, almost backing you into the corn. “Is that right?”

“And you’ll let me,” he said, your heart racing as he leaned in. His kisses stole the breath from your lungs and your eyes slipped shut just before his lips touched yours. “Won’t you?”

“After we find the first set of tracks,” you whispered, pressing your hands to his chest so he’d back away.

He didn’t budge.

“Seriously, doll. Why haven’t I knocked you up yet?”

This again?

“I thought we were going to talk about that after we got out of here,” you reminded him, stepping to the side to go further down the path. “Where is this coming from anyway?”

“Been thinking about it for some time. I just haven’t said so,” he answered as he followed close behind. Was he afraid to say something before because it was too soon? That admitting it would scare you off? “Now that I'm talking about it, I can't stop.”

You were tempted to make a joke that there was something in his special cider sample making him talk. “You're serious about this?”

“You moved in with me. We love each other. I want a life with you. Of course, I'm serious.”

Glancing over your shoulder to find him watching you, you couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too, Bucky,” you promised before you focused on the path again. You weren’t sure just how far the two of you had walked through. “But something like that is-”

You shrieked when Bucky spun you around by the shoulder, a wild look in his eyes before his mouth met yours in a persistent kiss. Compelling desire moved through you, but it didn’t matter how much you wanted him. The two of you were still in public. There were families around.

This wasn’t the time or place for this.

He broke the kiss before he shoved you almost painfully to your knees. He was never that forceful. “I’ll lose my mind if I’m not inside you.”

“Bucky, what the hell?!” you asked as he moved behind you and dropped to his knees, too. He yanked your pants and underwear down before you could stop him. Did you want to stop him? “We’re in a maze. What if someone catches us?”

He scoffed as he pushed you forward, forcing you to brace yourself with your hands. The cool breeze touched your exposed pussy, sending another chill down your spine. “You think I care if anyone catches us? I need you and they can’t stop me. They'll see that you're mine.”

The corn seemed to move in closer as you heard him unbuckle his belt, as if to give you some privacy. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you. “I'm already yours. Can you just slow down for a second?”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he swore, clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Bucky sheathed you in one hard thrust, your cry smothered by his hand. You admitted to him once that he was the largest you’d ever had, which he both loved and hated. While it made him feel good that your ex-boyfriends weren’t as big as him, could never stretch you the way he could, he hated thinking of anyone else being inside you. He liked to remind you that no one else ever would be. And because of his size, he usually took great care in prepping you.

His need must’ve clouded him, the burn from the stretch more intense than usual.

“I’m sorry, doll. I don't know what's come over me. I can’t help myself,” he apologized again as if he sensed your discomfort, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice as you breathed through your nose. “But it’s okay. I’ll make you feel good. Just take me.”

You whined as he nearly pulled out completely and shoved himself back in as deep as he could go. That was your only warning before he set a steady pace, your hands fisting the dirt and your ears ringing as blood surged through your veins. It wasn’t long before your wetness coated his cock, the burn fading to pleasure from the friction. He fucked you before, but it was nothing like this. Bucky was like a man possessed. No, not even a man. More like a wild animal rutting into you, claiming you.

Where anyone could stumble along and find you.

“So soft. So warm,” he groaned, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck. “So fucking good.”

You tried to push yourself higher on your hands and knees for better support, but the force of his thrusts surged you forward. Removing his hand from your mouth, he placed it on the back of your neck as your cheek hit the dirt. The hold gave him leverage to fuck you deeper with your ass in the air. The soil felt cool in contrast to the hot palm against your skin.

“Better keep quiet,” he warned you, even as the angle sparked ecstasy within you. All you could do was bite your lip to try and keep the sounds in as much as possible. “Or do you want someone to catch me breeding you?”

“What?” you gasped, unable to lift your head as a new sensation hit you.

“You heard me,” he growled, draping himself over your back and maintaining his harsh pace as he breathed against your ear. “Gonna breed you. Gonna fucking drown your womb with my seed. ‘Cause you’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”

The sweet doting boyfriend you were used to was nowhere to be found as his cock wrecked your cunt. Was there something unexplainable causing him to act this way or had he been holding back? You would question him later. For now, you could only go limp as he fucked you into the dirt with vigor. And it felt good. You couldn't deny it.

“Gonna be so full of me. Fuck, you’ll look so beautiful carrying my baby,” he grunted, barely able to make out his words his thrusts increased in speed and strength. The slap of skin on skin filled the air and you almost had to cover your mouth yourself to stop your mewls. “Your belly round. Your tits nice and full. Might keep you knocked up so you remember who you belong to.”

The image of Bucky with his hand on your belly filled your mind, sending jolts of unexpected pleasure down to your toes. “I can’t take it, Bucky,” you gasped, even as you felt the tug of your building climax ready to snap. “It’s too much.”

With a deceptively soft kiss to your neck, followed by a small nuzzle, Bucky let out a deep moan. “You can take it. You always do ‘cause you’re mine. My good girl,” he rambled on as you whined, the wet slide of your pussy squeezing him tighter as you got closer. “Need to pump you full. Need your cunt to milk every drop from me. You want it. I know it. Come.”

You couldn’t hold on any longer, your fingers curling in the dirt again as you came with a cry. You were overwhelmed by the pure bliss, shocked at just how powerful your orgasm was. He hadn’t teased your clit, yet you gushed around him like he had. The squelching sound blended in with your whimpers as he fucked you through it.

Maybe you liked the idea of him breeding you more than you realized.

“That’s it, doll,” he groaned as he chased his release. “Take it. Every. Fucking. Drop.”

Bucky's rhythm faltered as his cock pulsed, spilling inside you with a growl. He kept his hips flush against yours as he breathed raggedly against your neck, keeping your bodies joined together for as long as he could. He didn’t move until he began to soften, making a whimper spill from your lips when he pulled out of you. His fingers quickly replaced his cock to keep his spend from sliding out of you.

“You okay, doll?” he asked, his voice still a touch of gruff mixed with softness. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“Mmm,” was the only response you could give him.

It was like a switch had gone off as he helped you up, keeping you from collapsing as he got your underwear and pants up. He wiped as much of the dirt away with his hands as he could, softness in his eyes once again. Minus his disheveled hair, he looked fine. Like he hadn't just fucked you in the corn maze.

You two were lucky you hadn't gotten caught.

He hugged you as close as he could while you tried to make sense of his behavior. Whatever raging beast was inside him was satisfied for the time being. But what came over him?

Large hands framed your face as you tried to get your shaking under control. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you mumbled.

“I’ll draw us a bath when we get home, okay? Get you cleaned up and make sure you aren't too sore,” he offered with a tender kiss to your lips. “After I throw out your birth control pills. You won’t need those anymore.”

So, how are we feeling? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[saerins]

─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no

notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .

summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”

he’s handsome, seventeen.

even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.

if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.

maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.

“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.

still handsome.

“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”

you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”

the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.

“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”

“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.

“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”

sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.

“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”

“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.

“you want me so bad.”

“you wish, itoshi sae.”

“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.

you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”

sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”

taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.

“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.

you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.

“so?”

“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.

“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.

“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.

but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.

maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.

that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.

“not even if you bribe me.”

at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.

it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.

you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.

your parents think otherwise, though.

like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.

“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.

your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.

they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?

as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.

“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”

sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.

“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”

he could not be more wrong.

“none, sir.”

why does this effort feel much more than necessary?

“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.

“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”

that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.

making you miserable? no thank you.

so he nods, “yes, i do.”

“you realise that—”

“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”

from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.

he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.

when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.

it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.

not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.

which didn’t take long.

it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.

oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.

“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.

sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)

it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.

a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.

the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.

usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.

“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.

“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.

“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”

“wait, what—”

you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.

i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.

sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.

you did not.

an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.

“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”

you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.

sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.

so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.

but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.

“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.

sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.

“promise?”

sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”

you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.

when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.

“my daughter has good taste.”

“that’s a secret.”

sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.

you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.

it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.

they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.

he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.

“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”

you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.

“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.

“now who is this lucky lady?”

sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”

his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.

one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.

you smile as you type your response.

sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?

you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.

fuck yes.

“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.

it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.

everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.

“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.

that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.

sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.

while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.

usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.

it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?

sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.

you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.

“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.

sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.

“oh, then where’d you go?”

sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.

“what’re you up to, itoshi?”

he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.

sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.

“sae?”

“this key’s yours.”

you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.

you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”

sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”

“y-you want me to move in here?”

“yes.”

“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”

“yeah.”

“you want me to live here with you, together?”

“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.

you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”

sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

“i don’t want this anymore.”

it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.

sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.

“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”

he makes you feel stupid.

sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.

apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.

“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.

it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.

being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?

she’s just in the fucking way!

weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.

but really? it’s fucking difficult.

if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.

wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol

lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating

@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?

there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.

you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.

“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”

you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.

it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.

until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.

they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.

one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.

“sae, we need to talk.”

like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.

and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”

you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”

“why not?”

“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.

when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“i want to break up.”

sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.

“no.”

now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”

sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”

“i-i mean what i said, sae.”

you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.

“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”

you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.

“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.

“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.

“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”

you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.

“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.

until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.

but he doesn’t.

sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.

and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.

but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.

there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.

“hey, sae?”

“mhm?”

“thank you.”

he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”

and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.

so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.

[inupibaldspot]

You’re jealous?

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Yuta is jealous over you and Rafayel, a game character.

A Saturday night spend quiet was normal for you and Yuta; both in bed legs tangled with breathing in sync. Yuta usually stays on his phone playing some random game — or it’s multiplayer then with Inumaki; while you scroll through social media.

But in today’s case something was different, not getting out of bed through that part stays but you were on your phone playing a game which has been on your ‘for you page’ for a while now; love and deep space.

You downloaded the otome game out of pure curiosity but now— now you were hooked. A character in particular had all your affection, Rafayel. Why? He was just so so funny and sassy.

Yuta ,completly in the dark on his girlfriend literally being swept of her feet by a game character, let’s out a sigh of relief as the match finally came to an end. The word ‘victory’ plastered on the screen.

“Baby, look.” Yuta’s soft voice breaks the silence as he shows his screen to you. “I got match mvp.”

His eyebrows furrowed, almost worried, when you paid no attention to his words. “Oh.” He says to himself when he noticed you had your earphones on.

Yuta smiles as he gently pokes your thighs which finally grabs your attention so he once again shows off his screen. “I got mvp… Inumaki-kun got bronze.” He laughs.

He watched you gaze at his screen and smiles. “That’s nice.” You say and then looks back into your screen.

Huh? That’s nice…? That’s it…? Yuta thinks confused. Where were his praises and kisses peppered all over his face? That’s what you usually did. Yuta looks over to see that you had a smile plastered on his face, almost giddy with a blush on your cheeks. Just what got you so flustered?

Silently, he makes his way closer to you as he peers over your screen. He notices a game character with dark hair whose mouth was moving as if he was saying something; but whatever that character said made you giggle.

Yuta feels his stomach churn with uncontrollable jealousy so he decided then and there he needed all of his lover’s attention. He starts off my leaning his head into your neck, which makes you raise your hand and place it on his head; playing with his hair.

But that wasn’t enough. Yuta wanted all of your attention.

He wraps his arms around your waist, lips turned into a pout looking like a kicked puppy.

When you still wasn’t looking at him, he changes tactics.

Yuta props himself up and he brings his lips near your ears as he places small kisses and then proceeds to take tiny nibbles there. “Y-Yuta…” You stammer.

Not enough.

His lips drop to your neck and then to your shoulders, leaving small trail of red marks while he brings his fingers up to pull down the small strap of your top, making the material fall.

Yuta lips curl to a satisfied smile when you finally put down your phone; your focus entirely on him.

You swallow, face heat up and breathing heavy. “Yuta… Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” You smile when you see your boyfriend pink, and he looks away from you. How cute.

“It’s just a game character, love.” You giggle. “Just a name character called Rafayel.”

“Don’t say another man’s name…”

In a swift moment, you were pinned down on you back as Yuta climbs over your. Before you could question anything, Yuta places open mouth kisses all over your neck. “And could a game character do this?” Gone was the sweet tone your boyfriend always used on you.

“N-no…” You manage to squeak out. “Only you can do that to ngh—ah! me, Yuta.”

His head falls on your shoulder placing his lips against your collarbones, the up your neck again until your lips are together, desperate. You were writhing below him and that overjoyed him.

Yuta let’s out a hoarse laugh as his fingers now tap on the waistband of your pant, his breath hot on your ears. “I’ll show you something else, that Rafayel can’t do.”

[redr0sewrites]

I just saw a Fanart of sad luci after his plans got reject by heaven and good lord I need some fluff. The look on his face was heartbreaking for me so I was wondering if ypu could write A lucifer x gn reader where reader comforts him and/or when he gets banished reader jumps after him?

Sorry if this is too much

AAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! i took my own little spin on this, so i hope u like it!!! also pls share the fanart nonnie, id love to see it!!!

🥀Cw: angst to fluff, Lucifer's trauma, crying

it had been so many years, and yet lucifer still remembered the feeling of falling. it was cold and dark and endless, with only the sounds of his own screams and flailing wings to accompany him as he descended from the heavens, hurdling down into the depths of hell. all he had wanted was to give the humans free will, but this is what they chose to do with it? it crushed lucifer's very soul, breaking all the resolve and respect he had for heaven in one fatal stab. with bleeding wings and a broken heart, he swore to forget about heaven, to move on. and yet, nights like these still caused him endless grief. however, lucifer had a hope, a light in the tunnel of darkness he had fallen into so long ago. he found you years ago, a mere sinner, and had been swept away almost instantaneously. despite being in hell, you seemed to shine brighter than anyone lucifer had ever met, and he was captivated instantly. everything about you was just so precious, and he loved you with all of his soul. but, with that love came worry. and worry turns into anxiety, which turns to fear, which turns to pain, all of which led to the distraught state he was in now.

soft, broken sobs accompanied by the rushing shower woke you from your sleep. it was late at night, too late to be awake- at least in your opinion, and the fiery skies of hell casted an eery red light through the window. turning in your shared bed, you immediately noticed the absence of your lover and sat upright, the exhaustion fleeing your body as you surveyed the room around you. the night was still, but not silent, and you heard it again. the sound of soft, muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. the shower was running as well, and light seeped from the crack beneath the door. it was apparent that lucifer was in there, but why he had decided to shower at such a time was beyond your understanding. standing up, you approach the door to bring your husband back to bed. with each step closer, your concern grows tenfold.

"luci?" you whisper, knocking on the door gently. immediately the sobs halt and you hear a broken gasp from inside the room. "lucifer, are you okay? if you don't respond i'm coming in," you murmur, slowly turning the door knob. with no response, you opened the door and stepped inside. you were greeted by the sight of lucifer, crouching on the floor of the shower, wings unfurled and shaking. from what you could see of his face that wasn't shielded by white feathers, tears trickled down his cheeks, and his eyes were puffy from crying. he turned away from you as you entered, curling into himself and pressing his wings tightly against his body. the shower was still running, the water cascading over his bare skin and spraying you slightly as you stepped closer. "luci.." you whisper, gently stepping even closer until you were practically in the shower. "please, i- i don't want you to see me like this..." his voice sounded miserable and he still refused to even look at you. the shower was starting to spray you now, and you were shocked to find that it was cold. you flinched in surprise, but stepped inside anyway. in one swift movement you turn the shower off, and a painful quiet floods the room in the wake of the water. the silence is deafening, and lucifer seems to be shrinking in on himself every passing second.

"lucifer.. what happened?" you weren't sure what to do, where to go, whether or not you should reach out and comfort him or step away. all you knew was that you couldn't leave him alone. lucifer took in a shaky breath, water droplets trickling off his wings as they unfurled ever so slowly. "... i don't know," he admitted, burying his head in his hands. "i was just taking a shower but for some reason the water just-" he paused, hiccuping and shivering softly before continuing. "it just ran cold- and i felt like i was falling again, i couldn't see you and i just-" he let out a defeated sigh, and his wings began to shake again. you watched as his shoulders began to quiver, and you realized he was crying again. "im sorry, i shouldn't- i shouldn't be telling you all of this, its foolish," lucifer whispered huskily. "i still think about falling, and everything that happened with heaven, even though i shouldn't. but every damn day i fear that theyre going to take you away, that- that they will try to crush all i have left.." lucifer began to shiver, and you kneeled down next to him on the shower floor. "lucifer, look at me." you whisper gently but firmly, and he slowly raises his head. his blonde hair is a mess, its soaked and ruffled and sticking to his forehead. his eyes are rimmed with red, and his cheeks and nose are flushed as tears and freezing water dry on his face. his gaze still refuses to meet yours, but at least you know hes listening.

"lucifer, nothing is going to happen to us. heaven doesn't want change, and heaven doesn't want war. we're safe here, and i'm always here for you. if anything happens, we will handle it together, but i need you to know that i'm on your side, okay?" lucifer nods, his watery eyes shifting to meet your gaze. you open your arms and he accepts your invitation, curling into your embrace and engulfing you both in his wings. you're now properly soaked, but you couldn't care less.

you don't know how long you spent sitting on the shower floor as lucifer rocks and cries in your arms, but you don't mind a bit. he's calmed down now, but you still card your hands through his hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "why don't we go back to bed, hm?" you whisper, and he nods. you both stand, and lucifer heads into your bedroom to get dressed. you follow suite, your clothes fully soaked and practically freezing. after swiftly changing into a warmer set of pajamas, you beckon lucifer to bed. he meekly joins you, embarrassed at his own emotional state. you both settle into bed, wrapping you arms around eachother ss you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "i'm... sorry about all that, and for waking you," he mumbles, and you shush him. "its okay darling, i promise. i'm always on your side, and im always here if you need me," you hum, pressing an appreciative kiss to his adams' apple. lucifer chuckles, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tight. "the feeling is mutual my dear. i am... so incredibly lucky to have you. now, sleep well, okay?" lucifer whispers into thr darkness, rubbing the words i love you over and over into your back with his thumb. you mumble something unintelligible, your breathing evening out as sleep begins to overwhelm you. "mm... 'night, luci.." lucifer smiles, kissing your hair again. he hopes he can stay like this forever, with you safe in his arms. "goodnight my duckling, sleep well..."

OK THE WAY I ATE THIS UP IT GOT SO LONG AND FOR WHAT? i love him sooooo much yall im so normal? (also this note is for @milyki and milyki only but u are NOT allowed to read this fic or mention this to me irl bc i will die :)

[waitimcomingtoo]

Come See About Me

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Synopsis: Tom realizes he got you all wrong and slowly falls as he learns more about you during the press tour

Masterlist

“Oh shoot. I’m press with Y/n all week.” Tom said as he read an email from his team.

“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked him.

“Not necessarily. I just don’t really know her that well. She was super reserved on set for the few days I shot with her. I wonder why they paired me with her.”

“Well, you’re the same age, right? The movie team probably just want to start romance rumors for publicity.”

“I don’t think that will happen. I barely got to know her during filming. I doubt anyone will see chemistry between us.” Tom replied. He started pacing around his hotel room and felt uncharacteristically nervous for the day ahead.

“Well for your sake, let’s hope you don’t see chemistry between you either.” Harry snorted.

“How do you mean?” Tom frowned.

“You know how messy relationships in the public eye can be. Just don’t go falling in love with this girl, okay? I do not want to watch you pine after your dark and mysterious costar.” Harry warned him.

“Psh. I won’t fall in love with her. That would never happen.” Tom scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone. He ended up on Instagram and saw that you had recently posted a photo. It was just a simple selfie in your hotel room which was probably just a few doors down from Tom’s. He found himself smiling and gave the photo a like. He may not have gotten to know you on set, but there’s no reason he couldn’t get to know you now.

“But if I did, why would that be bad?” Tom asked as he deep stalked your Instagram.

“The way I see it, there are two outcomes if you choose to pursue her. Option one is you get swept up in the excitement of promoting the movie and start reading into every little interaction between the two of you because that’s what the public is doing. So you convince yourself you’re in love with her and maybe she’ll even convince herself of the same thing. But once the press tour is over and you get to be with each other without any reason or purpose, you realize you never actually liked each other. And that’ll just end up breaking both your hearts. Even worse if only one of you realizes you never actually liked the other. God. That would be a nightmare.” Harry shivered.

“Okay.” Tom said slowly. “That was oddly specific. So what’s the other outcome?”

“You fall in love with her on this press tour and then it ends before you get a chance to tell her. So she flies off to film another movie and you’re stuck kicking yourself for not being honest with her sooner. And I’m stuck watching you whine about it.” Harry said simply.

“Or, hear me out, secret third option.” Tom proposed. “I fall for her and she falls for me and we have a great relationship. And maybe it lasts and maybe it doesn’t. But at least we gave it a shot. That could happen, right?”

“Maybe. But either way, she’s getting on a plane at the end of this press tour. And you can’t fall in love with someone who’s worlds away. Remember that.” Harry reminded him.

“I’m not gonna fall in love with her.” Tom insisted.

“Promise?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Promise.” Tom said weakly. He looked at your picture one more time before shutting his phone off.

The next morning, Tom got into a black van that was going to take the cast to the building where the interviews were taking place. You got into the car shortly after with a huge smile on your face that Tom had never seen before. You were in a nice dress and full glam already, unintentionally earning yourself Tom’s full attention.

“Good morning.” You said enthusiastically as you sat in the seat beside him. He was slightly taken aback by how friendly you were being since he had only ever seen you being quiet and reserved.

“Oh, hello.” He smiled in surprise. “Good morning to you too, darling. How are you doing?”

“I’m really excited for today.” You admitted. “I haven’t done a big press tour like this before. I know they can be a little boring and repetitive but I can’t wait.”

“Yeah. These tours are pretty crazy. You get to see a lot of amazing places which is really cool. But you also get to answer the same question 100 times a day for a month straight. You’ll learn the highs and the lows pretty soon.”

“I’m ready for it all. But thanks for the warning. I appreciate any tips I can get.” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome. And don’t worry. You’ll get used to waking up at the crack of dawn and having a bunch of people you’ve never met poke you with makeup and hair stuff.”

“When?” You asked through a yawn. “Because I have a full face of makeup on before my brain is fully awake and it feels so very, very wrong.”

“Not soon enough.” He sighed. “I’ve learned to stay half asleep while the nice ladies apply my concealer.”

“Oh, so this complexion isn’t natural?” You teased and pointed to his face.

“Nope. You’re not the only one in full glam right now, darling.” He humored you, making you laugh.

“Careful. You don’t know if you can’t trust me yet. I might sell that piece of bad boy information to a news site and get you exposed.” You warned. It was Tom’s turn to laugh and he felt amazed that he had never seen this side of your personality before.

“I hope you don’t. I was just about to say that I’m glad I can share your first big press tour with you but now I feel we may have begun an enemies arch.”

“No. We can’t be enemies.” You whined playfully. “Because I was gonna say that I’m glad you’re here too. You always seem so relaxed and funny in interviews. I’m really hoping I don’t come off as nervous as I feel today.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t. It’ll feel just like a conversation.” He assured you. He was pleased to know you were a watcher of his interviews and wondered what else he’d uncover about you that day.

“Thank. I really appreciate you helping me with all this.”You said sincerely.

“It’s no trouble. If you have any other questions, just ask. I’ll help wherever I can.” He told you.

“Thanks, Tom.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and suddenly remembered what Harry had said the night before about not falling in love with you. Tom was just one conversation in and already struggling to keep his promise.

Once the van arrived at the building, you and Tom had makeup touch ups and were then sent into the junket room.

“Wow. I haven’t seen the poster yet.” You gasped and touched the poster with gentle fingertips. Tom watched you admiring it and smiled when he saw how proud you looked.

“You look good up there. I hope to see you on more posters.” He said and nudged you slightly.

“Like in Playboy?” You asked and looked insulted.

“What?” Tom gulped. “No, no, no. I didn’t-“

“I’m just messing with you.” You cut him off and nudged him back. He felt his hearts too racing and cracked a smile.

“You really had me for a second there, darling. I didn’t realize you had such a sense of humor. I guess I never heard you say much on set.”

“Thats because I found it hard to shake my character after filming all day. I guess I’m not used to separating that yet. I loved my character and all but I’m so glad to be done shooting her. She’s so dark and dramatic. It really affected my mood on set.” You told him as you both sat down in your chairs.

“Oh, wow. So you’re not quiet? You were just in character?”

“Quiet? I’ve never been described as quiet.” You laughed. “I was just in my emo phase on set because the material I was shooting was so dark. It bummed me out all day.”

“But you’re not bummed out today?” He asked with a coy smile.

“Fuck no. I’m ready to party.” You whispered to him just as the journalist came in. He burst out laughing at the unexpected expletive and earned himself a look from the journalist.

“Well alright then.” He chuckled.

That was the first of many times you made Tom laugh that day. The more interviews you did together, the more he learned about you and your personality. He paid attention to every anecdote and personal story you shared and was more and more fascinated each time.

When it came time for day two of the press tour, he could not wait to get back in there with you. The interviews were in the hotel that day and Tom got to the junket room first. When you got there, you handed him a hot cup of tea.

“For you.” You smiled and sat beside him. Tom looked at you curiously and you gestured for him to sip it. He took a sip and widened his eyes when he tasted it.

“This is exactly how I take my tea.” He said incredulous.

“I know. I was listening when you ordered at breakfast yesterday.” You said proudly.

“Thank you, darling. I really appreciate that.” He smiled fondly at you before taking another sip.

“Well I wanted to thank you for all your help yesterday.” You smiled shyly. “I was really nervous yesterday until we talked in the car. You made my first press day really memorable. So I did the normal courtesy of eavesdropping on you and brought you your favorite tea.”

“That was very kind of you. And you made my day yesterday a lot better than I was expecting so I should be thanking you too.”

“Then I’ll loudly tell someone else my favorite way to drink tea so that you can eavesdrop and surprise me.” You joked as the journalist walked in.

“How are you guys doing today?” The journalist asked to start the interview.

“I’m doing really well now that Y/n brought me tea.” Tom answered and took another sip.

“I’m also doing really well but because Tom didn’t bring me tea.” You said and looked at Tom to see if he found it funny.

“Why would that make you happy?” He laughed.

“Because I hate tea.” You shrugged.

“What? Don’t you know that is the worst thing you can say to an English person? And you just told me you had a favorite tea.”

“That was a joke. I actually hate tea.” You admitted.

“How can anyone hate tea?” Tom asked in exasperation.

“It’s just like hot, flavored water. I don’t understand what’s good about it. I hate soup too.“

“Soup too?” Tom gasped and pretended to clutch his petals.

“I think soup is so nasty. Why would I ever want to eat hot blended food?”

“If you hate soup and you hate tea, then what do you do when you’re sick?”

“I watch Fantastic Mr. Fox under my covers like a normal person.” You answered, making him laugh.

“This is very disturbing information to learn so early in the morning. You’ve surprised me, darling.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” You shrugged with a laugh.

The next day, Tom was pleased to see you already waiting in your chair for the interview to start. You were texting on your phone but looked up when he came into the room. Your makeup artists was touching up your lipstick so you couldn’t smile at him and opted for a wink. He found himself blushing at the wink and sat beside you.

“Morning, darling.”

“Good morning. No tea today?” You teased.

“I’ve already had my tea, for your information. I chugged it while I got my makeup done.”

You laughed but he wasn’t actually kidding about getting his makeup done. He was just happy that it made you laugh. Your makeup artists finished up and you checked your makeup in your phone camera.

“You look pretty.” Tom said before he could stop himself. You looked over at him in surprise before smiling.

“Why, thanks. So do you.” You said and shot him another wink. He blushed and looked down at his lap at the compliment.

“God, I’m gonna be thinking about lunch this entire interview.” You whispered to him.

“You didn’t eat at the craft service table?”

“I can’t eat that early in the morning.” You waved your hand. “It makes me nauseous. Now I’m wishing I did though. My kingdom for a cheese stick.”

“I hate cheese.” Tom grimaced.

“What? Even in stick form?” You asked him.

“Even in stick form.” He humored you. “And you can’t judge me because you hate the two most comforting foods on earth.”

“I’m judging you so hard right now.” You mumbled. Tom laughed as an idea came to him.

Before your next interview, Tom made a quick stop at the bakery across the street. You were already in the room waiting to start by the time he got back. He quickly fixed his hair before holding out a little brown paper bag.

“For you.” He said with a bashful smile.

“What is this?” You asked as you took the bag.

“Open it.” He said as he sat beside you. You gave him a curious look before opening the bag.

“Scone?” You gasped and looked up at him.

“Scone!” He smiled proudly.

“You got me a scone? Why?” You wondered and took the stone out of the bag.

“Because it was easier to find than a cheese stick.” He chuckled.

“I love you.” You cupped his chin before taking a bite of the scone. Tom froze and felt his face turn bright red at your words. You realized he had gone quiet and looked over at him.

“Sorry. Was it too soon to say that?” You asked with a mouthful of scone.

“I think so. Aren’t you supposed to wait three months?” He chuckled and touched a cold hand to his burning face.

“Too bad. The introduction of the scone sped up our relationship and now we’re in love.” You shrugged and took another bite. Tom laughed again and looked down at his laugh.

“So, uh, speaking of our relationship. Have you seen the way fans have been shipping us since our last few interviews hit the Internet? How weird is that?” He said and forced a laugh. He didn’t actually find it weird, he just wanted it see how you felt about the possibility of a relationship.

“I was actually deep into the fan edits last night to be perfectly honest with you.” You said through a laugh.

“Were you?” He asked in surprise.

“I was. And I heard that we’ve been secretly dating since May. Did you know that?”

“I did. I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry, darling. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He played along.

“That’s okay. I can’t be mad at you since you blessed me with a scone.”

The journalist came in once you had finished your scone and the interview began. Tom was barely paying attention to the questions and only focused on hearing your answers. He loved that he wasn’t getting to learn new things about you that he was too shy to ask.

“Unpopular opinion?” The journalist asked.

“A lot of people think cats are girls and dogs are boys but the real take here is that all seagulls are boys.”

“Woah, what? What makes all seagulls boys?” Tom asked you.

“A girl would never act like that.” You said simply, making Tom laugh.

“My unpopular opinion is that Y/n’s best movie is Look Mom, No Hands.” Tom said, making you burst out laughing.

“I know you did not just bring up my Disney Chanel original movie from when I was 11.”

“Yes I did. Because I watched it last night and I cried when you made the winning goal even after your glasses broke from the soccer ball hitting you in the face.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “The drama.”

“It was! The opposing team totally kicked it into your face on purpose because they knew you were the underdog. But nevertheless, she persisted. You made the winning goal and your team won the championship.”

“Wow. Way to spoil my movie from 15 years ago. And why were you even watching that?”

“Because I needed to know who I was working with everyday. It’s a part of your lore. Now that I know you’ve starred in a DCOM, I know I can trust you.”

“I was not the star. Bridget Mendler was the star. I was just the quirky best friend.” You reminded him, making Tom laugh.

“Well you were the only one I was looking at, okay darling? You were the star for me.” He said as he looked over at you. You smiled at his answer and nodded your head.

“Good answer. Favorite snack?” The journalist asked.

“Oh no. You’re gonna think I’m weird.” You smiled sheepishly.

“What? I could never, darling. What is it?” Tom asked and turned in his chair to face you.

“I put mustard on popcorn.” You grimaced.

“What the hell?” Tom’s nose scrunched in disgust.

“See! I knew you’d think I was a little freak.”

“Mustard? On popcorn? Why would anyone do that?”

“You’re thinking it’s worse than it is. Yellow mustard on lightly salted popcorn is really good, okay? Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“You’re gonna have to make it for me. Because I cannot imagine it’s good.” Tom shook his head.

“If I can get my hands on some mustard during this press tour, I will be at your door in a heartbeat.”

“It’s a date.”Tom replied, making you smile.

“It better be.” You answered, and he returned the smile.

Tom was fully in it now. Every second that he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. You started spending your evenings together and grabbed dinner every night after your interviews. He was falling fast and getting worse and worse at hiding it. He posted a photo of the two of you that the paparazzi had taken while you were out to dinner and captioned it “I’d wait out in the cold all night just to take pictures of her too”. He tagged you and it wasn’t long before you were in his comments saying “he’s so obsessed with me it’s honestly embarrassing”. He smiled at the comment and wrote back “yes, and?” before going to bed.

The press tour was coming to an end and on the last day, Tom walked into the junket room to find only one chair in the room.

“Oh. No Y/n?” Tom asked his manager.

“Nope. Solo interviews today.” They replied. Tom faked a smile and sat in his chair. He hoped his disappointment wasn’t as obvious as it felt as he gave the interview alone. He did a few more solo interviews throughout the day and eventually got to his last one. It wasn’t long before the door opened up and you walked into the room with Tom’s water bottle.

“Hi. I’m crashing. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and walked into the room.

“That’s quite all right. Do you want a chair?” The journalist asked you.

“I’m good.” You smiled politely and sat on Tom’s knee. He immediately blushed and looked up at you.

“What are you doing here, darling?” Tom grinned.

“I finished early so I brought you juice.” You said and handed him the water bottle.

“What? No way.” He smiled in appreciation and opened up the water bottle to see apple juice inside.

“Juice!” You cheered.

“Juice!” He echoed. “Thank you, darling. What a nice surprise.”

“Well I had to get you back for the scone.“ You told him.

“So Tom, I have to ask about your Instagram post from yesterday. You tagged Y/n in an interesting place, Tom. Care to comment on that?” The journalist asked now that you had joined the interview.

“He tagged me there because it’s where you can usually find me.” You chuckled.

“Wait, I’m lost? Where did I tag her?” Tom asked. You and the journalist exchanged a look before you pulled out your phone to show Tom his own post from the night before. He had accidentally tagged you right on his crotch, making him turn red when he saw his mistake. And when he pieced together what you meant by what you had just said, he turned even redder.

“Oh my God. I swear, I’m just Instagram stupid. I didn’t mean to tag her there.” Tom explained.

“Yes he did. He tagged me in my location. Because that’s where I am.” You kept up the joke just to tease him.

“Where?” The journalist laughed.

“On Tom’s dick.” You shrugged. Tom covered his red face with his hands as you and the journalist laughed.

“People know that about me. If they can’t find me, they don’t ask “hey where’s Y/n?” because they already know where I am. It’s my happy place. My sanctuary. My home away from home.” You continued.

“No. No more. My mum watched these.” He playfully scolded you.

“Hey, you started this.” You reminded him.

“And I’m ending it.”

“Actually, I’m the one who has to end it. That’s all the time we have. Thanks guys.” The journalist said. The last interview was done, meaning the press tour was officially over. You stood up and adjusted your skirt before looking at Tom. He smiled softly but felt his disappointment return. The tour was over which meant today was his last day with you. He knew you’d keep in touch, but it would never be like this again, and that’s made him sad.

Instead of wallowing in his sadness, Tom did something about it. He stopped by the corner store before making his way to your hotel room. In his way there, he ran into his brother Harry. Harry took one look at the bag of popcorn in his hands and knew what was happening.

“You fell in love with her, didn’t you?” Harry snorted.

“Shut up.” Tom groaned. “I can still fire you.”

“You did the one thing you said you wouldn’t do. Now look at you. One your way to eat the most American combination of foods I have ever seen. You’re a disgrace to your homeland.”

“I couldn’t help it, okay? She made me fall for her. It’s all her fault, really. Now leave me alone. I have a girl to surprise with a disgusting snack.” Tom said and went on his way. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door. You opened your door for him and he held up his bag of supplies.

“Hey, you. What’s this?”You raised an eyebrow.

“Mustard and popcorn. You little freak.” He said with a teasing smile. Your lips curved into a smile as you stared at him.

“Get in here.” You instructed.

He went into your room and shut the door behind him as you poured the bag popcorn into two bowls. He did his best to hide his disgust as you squirt mustard over them both.

“Here. You’re gonna love this.” You said as you handed him his bowl.

“It smells like mustard.” He grimaced.

“Well, that’s 50% of the ingredients.”

“Okay. I’m doing it. I’m eating one.” He said and popped a mustard covered piece of popcorn into his mouth. You watched him as he chewed it and could tell he hated it.

“Well?” You asked.

“I’m gonna throw up.” He answered.

“Spit it out.” You laughed.

“No. You like this so I’m gonna force myself to like it too.” He said a begrudgingly swallowed the popcorn. You laughed at him but your smile slowly faded and you looked a little upset.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda down tonight.” You told him.

“You are? What’s bothering you?”

“I guess I’m just sad the tours over. I don’t like when things end.” You admitted with a sad smile.

“I’m sad it’s over too. They usually exhaust me but I don’t know. I particularly enjoyed this one.” Tom replied sheepishly without meeting your eyes.

“You did?” You asked as you ate your popcorn.

“I did. Mostly because I enjoyed getting to know you.” He admitted and finally looked up at you. You smiled in surprise and scooted closer to him. Tom gulped and looked down at his lap. The tour was officially over so if he didn’t want you to get on a plane without ever knowing how he felt, he was gonna have to speak now.

“You know, before the tour started, my brother made me promise that I wasn’t gonna fall for you.” Tom admitted.

“What?” You laughed softly. “Why would he make you promise that?”

“I don’t know. He said it would only end in two ways.” Tom said and looked into your eyes with a sheepish smile.

“Which were?” You wondered.

“We get caught up in the excitement of the movie so we start a fling and then breakup when the tour ends.”

“Well that didn’t happen. So what was the other option?”

“I fall for you and never tell you. And the tour ends and you get on a plane and I regret it for the rest of my life. But I guess that option didn’t happen either since I told you.” He said as he never dropped your gaze. You stared into his eyes for a moment as you processed what he had just admitted.

“Well, what if there was a secret third option?”

“Secret third option?” Tom asked with intrigue.

“I mean, just because the tour is ending that doesn’t mean it has to be the end of you and me, does it?” You said and leaned in even closer.

“It doesn’t?” He gulped at your close proximity.

“I don’t think so. And look. You bought me food. That makes this is our first date.” You explained as you held up your bowl of popcorn.

“Well I’m happy to hear that but don’t expect a kiss with your mustard breath.” Tom mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“What was that?” You played along.

“I said you’re so pretty and I have a giant crush on you and want us to be together.” He said quickly.

“Much better.” You smiled and popped some popcorn into your mouth.

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[hopeluna-archived]

Lay a little love on me! | Obey Me!

Synopsis: the Obey Me! characters when you're feeling needy

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Diavolo

CW: suggestive but no nsfw content

M.list

✘Lucifer

"Lucifer, are you done?"

The said demon sighs, with a hint of a smirk, when he hears your question. A question you had asked 10 times in the last 5 minutes.

"Just a few more minutes, darling"

"That's what you said a few more minutes ago...." Lucifer could hear you mutter under your breath with a pout. You didn't mean to be so....needy but what were you supposed to do when Lucifer had been practically ignoring you for the whole day and instead choosing to focus on his work.

Lucifer had to hold back a smug chuckle when you twisted and turned, all pouty and furrowed eyebrows as you scrolled away on your D.D.D. He wouldn't deny that seeing you like this, so starved of his attention, didn't make him feel cocky.

"Come here." A simple command, one that you followed hastily thinking it would be to help him with work, which would mean getting it done faster. What you didn't expect was for Lucifer to firmly, but gently, pull you down to straddle his lap. "Good now?" Lucifer smirked when you nodded, although surprised but happy, snuggled more close to him, his hand resting a little bit too up on your thigh.

He was definitely not going to get all his work done.

✘Mammon

Mammon almost jumped out of his skin in terror when you practically pounced on him as soon as he entered his room, latching onto him so close, hands ready to wander.

"M-MC, what are ye doing?"

"Missed you today" his face felt like it was burning when you started peppering kisses on the column of his neck, "so busy", a kiss, "all", another, "day", and again another kiss accentuated by every word. At that point, Mammon's head was surely going to explode at how lightheaded it felt when you whispered a 'need you' in his ear.

Mammon had been out all day today, courtesy of Lucifer making him work several shifts as a punishment and a way to pay back all the money he had spent away gambling the other week. You had been too busy at RAD with the student council too and so you couldn't even catch a glimpse of him properly without being swept away to look into another issue.

This had undoubtedly left you hot and bothered as it was rare to not see you two attached at the hip.

Mammon didn't say anything, instead choosing to lead you to the bed, falling over you with a grunt as he started nipping desperately at the crook of your neck. He could never say no to you now, could he?

✘Diavolo

You were slowly starting to get bored of the gala. The chatter of the people fading into the background as white music, the annoying kind of white noise. You would rather much have stayed in bed with Diavolo or maybe even a nice walk outside, the weather was certainly pleasant today.

Speaking of the demon, not that he had been neglecting you but he was defintely too preoccupied with his guests. Normally it wouldn't have bothered you, he is the future king of devildom, you understand that he has responsibilities.

Its the amount of women and men throwing themselves at your lover when you were right there, Diavolo's arm around you. All so eager to please the royal with their sweet complements and praises. All that Diavolo took with a smile, as he had to.

Your patience, which was already hanging by a thread, snapped when a certain demon was getting a bit too touchy to be considered appropriate. Taking Diavolo's hand in yours in a tight grip, you promptly proceeded to lead him away from the crowd to a quiet hallway just beside it.

"MC, are you alrig- " Diavolo was startled to say the least when you pulled him down to kiss you with such fervour. No matter how unexpected this was, he was definitely not complaining about the change of events, his face had already started to hurt from having to keep up a smile with even the not so pleasant guests.

When Diavolo pulled you more into him, the kiss getting deeper and more languid, you really hoped that somehow the demon from before had accidentally ventured out in the hallway to make it known to them who Diavolo really wanted.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 3: Being So Normal

Ellie Williams x Reader

Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

ELLIE

It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.

The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality. 

When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person. 

Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.

I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.

I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?

Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.

It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.

You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.

You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.

Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.

Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.

I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles. 

I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.

When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.

My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.

I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.

Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.

"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.

"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"

I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-

"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.

My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," We both know that I am lying.

I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.

"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.

The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.

Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.

"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.

Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.

Everyone liked her. 

"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.

I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"

Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."

The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"

That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.

"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"

I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?" 

"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.

"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her. 

I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.

She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.

My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris. 

I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff. 

Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.

The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.

 Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it. 

 je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.

I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.

I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.

Age fifteen - Grade 10

The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.

It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."

I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.

Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"

I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"

"Yes." 

The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.

Ellie,

Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.

(Translation)

Ellie,

I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.

I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.

Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.

(Translation)

Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.

I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"

"I love you but you are definitely failing."

I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.

"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.

"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.

I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you 

"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.

"Nothing-

"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."

I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.

I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.

She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.

"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.

"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."

"What?"

"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.

"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"

"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"

"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"

"You told me to say something gross!"

"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.

"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."

She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.

At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that. 

Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.

After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina. 

I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.

"Dina, I'm on drugs."

"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"

"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."

"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"

"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."

She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.

"I'm kind of scared."

"Please just stay where you are-

"I love you, Dina."

"I lo- CLICK

My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.

I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-

"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.

"What?" I squint my eyes at him.

"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."

"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.

One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."

I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.

Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-

"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"

"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."

"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.

"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.

"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.

Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-

"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.

"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it. 

I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion. 

As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."

Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road. 

"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.

"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.

"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."

"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"

"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for god to call me back."

I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home. 

"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.

"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"

"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here. 

The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below. 

Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.

Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.

Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace. 

I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."

I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?

My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."

Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.

"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."

I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.

Nothing.

No sign that he is here.

The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.

Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off. 

She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.

"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.

She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.

"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.

"I know."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not."

I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.

I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.

A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀

Tag list!

@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell

Sorry if I missed anyone!

[m-ayo-o]

consensual somno with megumi yums especially when he comes home all stressed from work <3

fuuckckckckc

female reader x 21+ bf megumi -> 18+ somno, spooning sex -> prone bone position, HEAVY breeding kink oops, creampie, multiple rounds, spit, sweat, yum etc.

He arrives home with a dull headache, slumps his body against the door of your apartment and rubs his brow.

Thank fuck it's Friday.

He sighs, kicks off his shoes and removes his jacket, flexing his achy shoulders. He steps through your home to find you lying half naked at the end of your bed. Your limbs are splayed out haphazardly and your hair falls over your pretty face, where your mouth is parted, emitting soft snores.

He watches you for a moment, seeing the gentle rise and fall of your chest and hearing those cute, soft breaths. He smells the floral aroma in the air and presumes you must've just had a bath.

She couldn't even get dressed.

He sees you lying there, in your slumber, and he sees his world. He's past the point of shying away from these feelings. He knows they're here to stay- like you, who has captivated his heart.

"Oh baby," he coos, although he knows you're sleeping soundly, "you look like a princess."

He strips off his own work clothes and heads for the bathroom himself, getting cleaned up and returning to stare at you for a little longer. He sinks down on the mattress next to you and is swept up in another, stronger wave of adoration.

I need to touch her.

He doesn't want to wake you, so he's careful when he brushes your hair to the side to get a better look at your peaceful expression.

Perhaps it's a cruel thought, but he's almost glad you're so exhausted. He's glad that you don't stir when he lies next to you, ridding his towel and pressing his body to yours. He's glad his soft groan of satisfaction, upon feeling your body heat, doesn't wake you. And he's glad that even when he presses his cool hands to your stomach you don't move or shiver.

He lies next to you for a while, content with holding you and pressing soft kisses to your shoulder.

He admires the pretty underwear you decided to put on, finding the hem of your lace panties hugging your body, and he gets a familiar swelling feeling between his legs. He tries to close his eyes but the image of your gorgeous legs and hips, snugly fitting into that skimpy thong, is tattooed in his mind.

"Fuck" he groans, feeling bad for ruining the innocence of the moment- with you in his arms, looking so serene. But it's his body and your body, so they're bound to react. And just as he's starting to feel guilty, he realises you're moving.

He curses and sighs that he woke you up, but to his pleasure, you moan and buck your ass right against his rising boner.

Oh. She's still fast asleep.

And it's now, that you're readjusting your body, heavy with sleep, incidentally rubbing your boyfriend who is very much awake, that he remembers a certain request of yours.

It was more like you were begging him, actually, that if he wanted to, you would just love to wake up with him inside you one day. You seemed so enamoured by the idea and it certainly caught his attention, but he didn't realise he'd be able to put it into action so soon.

But he decides to seize the moment and act quickly before you wake up. If it's to make you happy, for his sweet girl's pleasure, he is but your loyal servant.

And when you look like this, carelessly lying in your underwear, tempting him with your sumptuous breasts that nearly spill from your bra and the beautiful curves of your body, he has to admit that he can barely control himself.

If you hadn't expressly asked for this, he would be waking you softly with kisses and 'good mornings', nibbling on your ear.

But today, he keeps spooning you, rubbing his erection greedily on your back, and slowly pushes your leg up.

She's bound to wake up.

But even when he starts massaging your clit and working his tip over your entrance you don't stir. So he keeps going, slotting himself in and out of the now slick mess between your thighs. He's absolutely coated in your juice and thinks he could get off like this- just slipping through your silky legs. They're so plump and perfectly balanced between muscle and soft fat, so pliant and doughy, he could just-

"Mmnh--"

He stops himself. He can't squeeze you so hard or you'll surely wake up.

The soft plush of your ass tempts him next, where he rubs a drop of his precum and starts to think about fucking you there instead. That cute hole of yours always looks so inviting.

No no no.

He lets out a soft grunt and gently guides himself back to your pussy, fucking you with his tip. He teases his swollen head until he has to sink in a little more. Inch by inch, he gets his relief and that tight, gripping pleasure starts to overwhelm him.

And he's amazed. Even in your sleep, you've managed to turn him on, get him hard and take him up to the hilt. Obviously, it's just his body being so fucking full of raging testosterone from the moment he saw you lying there ready to be taken; ready to be filled with his cum and bre--

Wait. No. She's on birth control. Not yet, Fushiguro.

He struggles to contain thoughts of pumping you full of his hot seed with the strong desire to get you pregnant. He wants to see it filling you to the brim. He wants to see it dripping out and he wants to fuck it back inside.

And now, with these maddening ideas in his head, of his pretty girl just spilling and full of his cum, his pumping soon turns from the most sensual, slow drags of his hips that barely disturb you, to harder bucking.

Oh fuck. Fuck.

He hears you sigh and you tilt your head back with a long and pleasured moan.

Oh, that fucking did it.

He groans in reply and grabs onto your waist, feeling you start to squirm- but before you can move or even say anything he's rutting into you and shutting you up with his dick.

There's no gentle 'good morning sweetie' or 'hey sleepyhead', just rough, animalistic fucking and growling till you cum on his dick and squeeze him till he gets that blinding, white hot pressure and releases his load.

"Again, again, please" he pants and eases you onto your front. He spreads your ass and pussy, getting the most gorgeous view of his creamy mess spilling out, where he spits and rubs it with his dick that's still straining hard. You manage to wriggle under him, pressing your cheek to the pillow and getting a glance of your pussy drunk man. You watch him mount you and spread you, with an expression in his eyes somewhere between hurt and aroused and he sinks his cock into you with moans coming from his mouth and yours. He does it again and again, admitting how he got so turned on by your sleeping body and it felt so perverted but you wanted him to and it felt so good .. he can't stop, and now he starts spilling all his dirty secrets until he admits how much he wants to breed you and see you full of his cum every day until you swell up full with his seed.

"Uhh, uh huh, I need it, please please, please baby--"

He begs and whines and you tell him to cum in you, he fills you instantly till you're oozing and you don't know how many rounds he's got left in him but you take them all till his arousal finally subsides and both your bodies are spent, covered in sweet cum and salty sweat.

And since it's Friday, and you have no commitments for the evening, you lie together and bask in the afterglow of one of the most satisfying and messy evenings of sex you've had in a while.

"Megumi, I can't believe you said that..."

A blush is evident on his cheeks as you tease him about the fantasies that came spilling out of his mouth.

"I won't be getting pregnant anytime soon, you know?" You tell him and he nods, a little sadly for your liking.

"You're welcome to keep trying, though"

You earn a snort at this. He watches you giggle and kisses you till you're melting in his arms again.

He offers you his hand and pulls you up on your shaky legs, guiding you back to the bathroom to have another soak before you fall asleep for the night.

sorry for any mistakes wrote too fast too hot requests cannot be this HOT ppleaaasseeehhh

megumi | m.list

[floralpascal]

Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

[h4ndwr1tten]

HI omg this has been eating away at me,, could i request an angsty (but with a happy ending) fic where the reader has been in love with kento ever since they were classmates at juju high and she always flirts with him but he rejects her every time up until the present day at shibuya where she saves his life by using a technique that gives him her life force and allows him to regenerate ig or take the blow of the hit and that leaves her on the brink kf death and kento realizes how much he's actually been in love with her the whole time and somehow she survives and he literally g r o v e l s and confesses and UGH this is too long i'm sorry but feel free to change some details to your convenience, TYSMM 🫶🫶🫶

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — i'm genuinely sorry i dont post requests on time :( anyways i didn't know how to end it so if i have time to i might rewrite it? i'm just trying to get this out bc i feel bad for leaving anon hanging.. (CORNY AHH TITLE)

cw — anxiousness, unrequited love (or so it seems) in the first half, violence kinda?, reader gets hurt and ends up in the hospital, kissing on the hand, confession ish, shitty ending might rewrite, not proofread. lmk if i missed any.

synopsis — you've gone through years and years confessing your feelings to kento, but this mission might be the scariest thing you've gone through. even for kento.

goosebumps covered your skin as worry churns in your stomach. on every other mission, you had felt worry and fear regarding the mission, but it was a normal thing that almost every other sorcerer experienced. those feelings, however, weren't the nagging, unrelenting ones you were feeling right now.

no, this was a gut feeling. of what, you couldn't decide. you knew it was a gut feeling because of the way it couldn't be diminished through encouragement and reassurance, and the way it came crawling back to you every time you were able to get your mind off of it. despite knowing you weren't going to be alone in this mission, you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and fearful for not just yourself, but everyone involved as well.

especially kento.

kento was going on this mission, alongside a few other sorcerers, and the thought of going into this with you provided some solace for your troubles. you felt safe with him, you always have.

ever since your high school days as a student at jujutsu high, you've always been drawn to kento. he was one first friends there, and despite not being exactly best friends, you always cherished his company.

that is until a year later, you began seeing him in a different light, one that was more romantic than platonic. you started noticing the little details that made kento, kento. how he liked to keep his blond hair swept to his right. how he would subconsciously hum to himself when he was focused on something. how he always made room for something sweet after dinner. you began to crave his presence more than you usually did. you started seeking him out in classes and in crowds. you tried your best to impress him, whether it be working hard in class, giving your all during practice, or fighting hard on a mission. you even began flirting with him, starting off subtle before becoming more obvious. you did everything you could think of just so he could see you the way you saw him.

you remember the first time he rejected you. you remember how at first, you were in denial because you really thought you had a chance. you cried to shoko about it, and somehow satoru and suguru as well (they were eavesdropping and jumped into the conversation). then you cried more by yourself, eventually falling into a deep slumber after exhausting yourself.

~~~

"hi ken!" you greeted your friend, a little more eager than usual.

you were up last night, convincing yourself that it was time to confess your feelings and that he would feel the same, or at least give you a chance. you had been keeping your feelings to yourself for a little over a month now, and you felt like you couldn't wait any longer.

now here you were, standing in front of the teen you had a massive crush on, who was sitting on a bench under a tree, with a book in his hand and his favorite sandwich lying on the space next to him.

kento sent you a small smile in acknowledgement, before slightly scooting to the side as if to make room for you.

you blushed at the gesture then took a seat on the bench, watching kento as he flipped a page in his book.

"what're you reading?" you ask. to be honest, you weren't really interested in his book. you just wanted to start a conversation before confessing your feelings for him.

"a biography," he answered briefly.

"about who?"

"some warrior."

then, setting the book down, kento turned to you with a curious look on his face. "did you need something, y/n?"

his amber eyes found yours and a sudden wave of nerves came over you. where had your determination and confidence gone? your heart probably grabbed them both and chucked it out of your body and across the nation. then its beating increased, as if taunting you for being so confident.

"um," you started slowly, breaking the eye contact and looking down at your lap. "i... you..."

"take your time," kento hummed. was it obvious how anxious you became, or was he just that good at reading people?

you began fidgeting with the hem of your skirt while trying to find the right words. a simple 'i like you' wouldn't suffice, because what you felt seemed stronger than just a 'like'. this was so much easier in your head. with a deep breath to prepare you and shifting your gaze back to him, you finally spoke.

"nanamikentoihavefeelingsforyou."

"huh?"

"i have... feelings for you," you spoke more slowly this time.

his brow quirked up, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off.

"i like you."

so much for not saying 'i like you'.

"oh."

oh? what oh? was that a good oh or a bad oh? you thought to yourself. kento grew silent and looked down at the grass, and his silence worsened your nerves. you were squeezing the end bit of your skirt now, while your mind was playing every other scenario you could have been in right now.

"kento?" his name leaving your mouth in a barely there whisper.

he turned back to you with pink cheeks and ears. you would've thought he was flattered if it wasn't for what he said next.

"i'm sorry, y/n. if you mean romantic feelings, and you like me in that sense, i don't feel the same way."

the whole world stopped. the distant chatter and bird calls faded into silence. the rise and fall of your chest paused as you felt yourself stop breathing. your cramped fingers finally stilled a against your skirt. your head kept replaying those words again and again, and your shattered heart dropped to your stomach, bringing a sick feeling with it.

"oh," you whispered. "i see."

you couldn't bare to be in this area anymore, or anywhere near kento. you were so sure that he'd at least want to see where things go with you. had you become so delusional and forgotten to think that being rejected was the other half of all possible outcomes?

a gentle hand then laid on your shoulder, while a face came into your peripherals. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, knowing it would only bring you more shame.

"but we can still remain friends. it won't be awkward, to me at least," kento suggested politely and, what he might've thought, comfortingly.

but it only worsened your humiliation. he just had to use that term, that wretched word. as if his rejection wasn't enough, he really thought it was a good idea to say the damned f-word after confessing he didn't feel the same.

you knew kento only had good intentions in mind when he said it, and you understood that he never meant to hurt you with his words. but that simple sentence made it clear to you that that was all he saw you as.

a friend.

you could feel your throat closing up, your nose burning, and your eyes beginning to prick. kento already felt bad, it was clear, and you didn't want to make him feel worse. so you decided that it was time to leave, and maybe never leave your bed again.

"okay, well," you sniffed, wiping a stray tear and standing up, "thank you for being honest and telling me how you feel."

upon seeing your crestfallen face, kento frowned. "y/n, i'm sorry—"

"no, don't apologize. i understand," you smiled sadly.

after mumbling a broken and half-hearted 'have a wonderful evening', you left the bench under the tree and cried the rest of the day.

~~~

despite being rejected and so, so hurt, you quickly came to realize that your feelings weren't fading any time soon. they continued to linger, like someone who couldn't take a hint and conversing with another who just wanted to get through the day. you yourself got the hint, the message—kento didn't reciprocate your feelings. but your heart didn't quite get the memo, as it refused to let go of the man.

over time, your feelings grew stronger and so did the urge to confess once again. so you confessed, and once again, you were rejected. this time, however, you cried a little less. moved on a little quicker. and you tried again.

this grew into a cycle, an unhealthy one, for the rest of your high school years. it was predictable and pathetic, but with feelings for kento as strong as yours? you were determined to get him to see you as more than just his good friend, hell, to even go out on at least one date.

and now, present times, nothing had changed. you were still in love with nanami kento and he... well, he was still not in love. you were still confessing and he was still rejecting. you might've seemed desperate, but your feelings never went away and kento never ended his friendship with you, so it had to mean something. right?

right now, however, your feelings were the least of your worries. your brows were furrowed, your bottom lip was tucked in between your teeth, and you were wringing your wrists over and over. despite going on this mission with the man you trusted above all, you felt that things wouldn't turn out the way they should.

"are you alright, y/n?" kento quietly asked you, having noticed your silence and body language.

"hm? oh, yeah. i'm just," you paused, then whispered, "scared."

you felt kento's hand gently lay on your shoulder, feeling his eyes on your own as he spoke, "it's going to be okay. i'll be there with you the entire time, and i will do my best to keep you safe and unharmed."

smiling up at him, you nodded and thanked him. he nodded once back, then led you two out the door and onto the mission.

you could barely function at this point. your vision was clouded with dark fuzzy spots, you could barely move your sore and numb limbs, your ears were ringing as though an alarm were blaring in them. your head was throbbing as blood trickled down your face from the gash above your brow, and your heart was racing faster than it ever had before.

the mission had gone horribly wrong; the curse was far more dangerous and powerful than expected. it could birth weaker clones that were still enough to cause damage, and the only way to stop the multiplication was to eliminate the main curse.

which had set its dark, blood lusted eyes on you for the past half hour. and in that time, you felt your life flashing before your eyes. you didn't know where kento had gone—the last you saw of him was taking on an army of the multiples.

your delayed movements weren't helping much. all your energy had been depleted whilst trying to fight survive the curse, making it almost impossible to use your cursed technique. if you thought fighting was exhausting, then trying to stay conscious felt much worse.

as you tried (and failed) to focus on executing technique, the curse came out of nowhere and violently hurled you into a nearby destroyed building. you broke through the remains of a wall, the only thing breaking your fall being a mound of ash and dust. chunks of the wall surrounded you, while a larger portion lay on the rest of your body below your shoulders. .

"y/n!"

despite the ringing and your heart thrumming in your ears, you could hear his distant yell for you. he must have finally gotten rid of the multiples when the main was focused on you, or held them off long enough to find you. whatever he did, though, you couldn't focus on right now. all you could really think of was the excruciating pain and fear you were experiencing.

the impact from you hitting the wall had knocked the wind out of you and the wall fragment on your chest made things even worse. your lungs felt tight on the inside, while they were being crushed on the outside. you could barely get in any air, the most you could take in being a mere gasp. you were beginning to panic now. were you going to die? is this how you were going out, because you were unable to defeat a curse? where was kento?

you didn't realize it but tears had begun to fall from your eyes. a reaction caused by the emotions and physical pain you were overwhelmed with. you were scared, so fucking terrified to meet your inevitable end.

what you also didn't know was that kento was fighting his ass off trying to murder the curse. it felt a bit easier because of all the anger he was feeling towards the creature for absolutely wrecking you. all rationality left his body the moment he saw you be carelessly thrown like a rag doll, and now he found himself brutally attacking the curse with no remorse. even satoru was shocked at his behavior, as he thought this curse would need more than one person to defeat it.

it took a few minutes longer, but kento had defeated the curse. he had sliced up the lower body and saved the stupid, ugly head for last, cutting it in half through the eyes and another half through the side. and in exactly 5 seconds, the curse had let out a final whine before it's dismembered body and quartered head disintegrated into pools of foul-smelling acid, but kento could care less about it.

he sprinted to where you were laying, not caring that satoru was calling after him, not caring that civilians were hurt or scared. you were the only thing on his mind and his body burned with the sickening fear that you were—

no, he couldn't bare to think of it. you were strong, persistent, determined. you didn't give up that easily, he would know. kento knew you would put up a fight, and a good one at that, before you'd let death win over and welcome you. but the question was, how long did until that fight was over?

luckily enough, kento could see your dust-covered body underneath the rubble. your skin was losing its color quickly and he could see you trembling, hear you crying fearfully and painfully calling for help. he rushed to your side, immediately but gently lifting the broken debris off your frail body.

"k-kento," you wheezed, tears pouring out of your eyes and leaving trails through the dust. "i can't—i can't b-breathe, it.. hurts."

kento's hands were shaking violently, panic settling in and his mind wondering darker thoughts. with one hand, he gently cupped your face and looked into your glossy eyes.

"it's okay, y/n. everything will be okay, i'm going to get you out of here, and we'll get you help, i promise. just stay calm for me, okay?"

his reassurance was enough to quell the some of the anxiety gnawing at your insides. despite trembling badly, kento hastily continued to uncover your body from the wall. the larger piece took more effort, and though his hands were burning an angry red, kento continued to lift and push, then threw it somewhere away from you.

kento felt sick at the sight of your battered frame. your natural skin color was barely visible as bruises covered almost the entirety of your body. cuts and gashes so deep they would scar marked your torso, and blood was seeping out through them. he was a strong man who'd seen enough gore to make even the coldest people faint, but seeing you in this condition made his eyes sting and burn.

"kento," you sobbed, the pain becoming too much to bear.

not wasting anymore time, kento gently scooped you into his arms, but despite his best efforts, the winces and cries you let out let him know that even the slightest touch hurt like hell. he began to speed walk to satoru, yelling out for the man while trying not to bounce you too much.

his heart was racing faster than it ever had before. a kind of fear he had never felt was consuming him, tightening around his entire body and squeezing his lungs. he could barely breathe, barely think properly.

meanwhile, you could slowly feel yourself begin to drift out of consciousness. was this death opening its gates to you? welcoming you in the worst way possible, having the life leave your body in the arms of the man you were in love with? everything began to feel numb. you weren't crying anymore. you were feeling a little sleepy.

"y/n, don't you dare close your eyes!"

kento's loud and firm voice abruptly knocked some consciousness into you, keeping you awake for a little longer. he gave you a gentle squeeze on your arm, a whine escaping you at the ache.

"i'm so sorry, i don't want to hurt you. we're going to get you help, alright? satoru!"

you couldn't process what happened after that, as the ringing in your ears returned. your vision became fuzzy, but the last thing you remember was a mess of snowy hair, teary hazel eyes, and the world around you spinning.

you fell asleep.

the sound of steady beeps sounded throughout the area you were in. consciousness slowly making its way back into your body.

you were tired, so exhausted. you just wanted to sleep for a month, but as memories began to flood your mind, the desire to sleep seemed harder to achieve.

the last thing you recall happening was kento pulling you out of the remains of a building, carrying you bridal style away from where you had laid, and satoru placing a hand on both you and kento. anything after that, you had no recollection of.

the incessant beep coming from your left prompted you to open your eyes. you squinted right away, your pupils slowly adjusting to the change of brightness. above you were fluorescent lights and around you were clean, white walls. the room had little to no decoration or color and it felt sterile. physical feeling had come back to you, and you felt your body wrapped in thin sheets, laid on a firm mattress. tubes ran up and down your arms and you could feel them underneath the gown you found yourself in.

you hadn't taken too long to figure out that you were in a hospital room. what you didn't realize right away was the blond man sitting next to your bed, his head buried in one arm and the other holding your hand. he wasn't in his usual blue dress shirt and slacks. instead, he was in a plain black tee and sweats. you figured he must have changed during the time you were unconscious, which you still had yet to find out.

your mind was running slower than ever today, because it had just clicked that nanami kento was holding your hand. he was the last person you saw when you passed out and the first person you see when you awoke. had kento been here by your side the entire time?

wanting to see more of him, you shifted your weight onto your elbows, trying to prop yourself up and painfully failing. sharp stabbing-like sensation ran through your right shoulder, a burning one across your left arm, and your back felt stiff and extremely sore.

a loud wince involuntarily escaped your lips, tears rushing to your eyes at the overwhelming aches. immediately, kento woke and snapped his head, looking confused for a second, then realizing what was happening next.

"heyheyhey, y/n, don't move too much. you're still recovering, so just lie down, alright?"

he had stood from his seat and helped slowly lower your body back into the bed. he held you so firmly yet so gently as if not to hurt you or you'd break. he then pulled the thin sheets over your lap to keep you warm, then adjusted the bed so that you were slightly sitting up with support.

then, carefully cupping your face, he wiped a stray tear with his thumb, then lightly stroked across your cheek. his eyes were so full of concern as he scanned your entire face, as if making sure you were really here. the emotion radiating off of him and the way he held you with such delicacy made you feel so safe and cared for.

"how are you feeling?" kento whispered, brows slightly furrowed.

"it hurts," you whispered in response. a frown crossed kento's face and he genuinely looked so broken to know you were in great pain.

"i'm so, so sorry, y/n," kento apologized, breaking eye contact and bowing his head, almost shamefully. "i should have been there, by your side. i should've just let gojo take care of the clones, hell, the actual curse itself. i should have been there—"

"kento," you cut him off. you couldn't handle hearing him blame himself for your near-death experience. he couldn't have saved you while defending himself, and if there was a choice to be made, you would've rather he lived.

"please... don't think this was your fault," you requested, voice raspy from not talking and the incident. "it was not your fault the curse decided to come after me. it was not your fault i wasn't strong enough to fight it alone—"

"but that's the thing, y/n," kento argued. "you couldn't have taken that thing on alone. i should have been there to aid you and help take it down."

in an attempt to lighten the mood, you exhaled a laugh through your nose and joked, "what, you don't think i'm strong enough to fight a special-grade?"

kento gave you a pointed look, unamused at your quip. you smiled apologetically back before looking away from him, any trace of humor leaving your face.

"it's not that i don't think you're strong enough," he sighed. "i feel like i let you down."

"i should have stayed by your side. i shouldn't have let us get separated, i should have followed you, but i didn't. and now, look where we are."

he gestures to your frail figure, gently holding your arm and avoiding your eyes out of shame. boldly, you reached for his hand held it in both of yours, the action bringing his eyes to your own.

"kento, this wasn't your fault. i mean it. don't say anything of it again, or i'll purposely get your orders wrong when i'm bringing lunch. you were trying to save yourself, as was i. maybe i could have used some help, but that only means i need to improve my technique and combat. which also means, you could help me with that. maybe i could have died, but i'm here now, aren't i?" you rambled, not bothering to stop when kento opened his mouth to rebut. "let's not dwell on what's already happened and move forward, please?"

he fell silent, pressing his lips together in a thin line. it seemed as though there was more he wanted to say, and you knew there was, but this conversation would never end—he wouldn't be relieved of his guilt.

a sigh passed through kento's lips, more pigmented after pressing them together tightly. he nodded and as he rubbed gentle circles onto the top of your hand, he whispered an agreement.

you smiled at him, squeezing his hand to reassure him. kento kept wordless for another minute, head hung low and eyes shut. it was visible to anyone that his guilt was swallowing him whole, but he was fighting it for you. he covered your hand with his other, both hands now encasing your own. taking you by surprise, kento brought your hand up to his lips and placed the gentlest lingering kiss atop the skin. his lips, so soft and so warm, left a light buzz on the spot they laid on, and one throughout your body.

"when everything gets cleared up—your health, the reports—i'm taking you out."

what?

"seeing you hurt and in this state made me come to my senses. it confirmed something i had held back for so long, and made me realize that i can't wait."

"kento... what are you saying?" you mumbled slowly, confusion evident in every word.

he sighs, treading carefully. it's clear he's figuring out the right words to say, how to express how he's feeling.

"i'm saying that... in our line of work, developing close bonds with people can be dangerous. we can never be too sure, we can never be too close to someone because in the blink of an eye, it might be gone. what we do is dangerous. but, i think that not taking a chance is even more dangerous."

he sighs shakily, "and i am guilty of not realizing this sooner. but fate seems to be on my side, because even if i don't take them, chances keep coming back to me. and i think now, i'm ready to take it."

kento kisses your hand and brings his eyes to yours, finally declaring,

"i'm ready to take this chance with you."

and you smile, nodding as fireworks go off throughout your being.

after all these years, he finally likes you back.

note — sorry for the corny ending, i just needed to get the request done 😭 and sincerest apologized to the anon who requested, i really have no excuse other than writers block and busy schedules :(

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