#heres to hoping i remember to use those last two tags from here on out

[missmatchablossom]

summary: you finally got hired to work as a teacher for your dream school, jujutsu high. everything was perfect until you ran into gojo satoru, your first love and heartbreak.

a/n: angst + fluff, female reader. this is the first time I've written a story more on the angsty side, so please let me know if you like it : ) I was feeling angsty after listening to eternal sunshine and bam this story suddenly came to me

tags: @kenqki @sad-darksoul

~

When you caught a glance at that familiar shade of blue, you froze. That specific hue was a color you avoided at all costs, the color of heartbreak and dreams you never followed.

He looked at you, and suddenly you were 18 again. It was simultaneously the best and worse year of your life; the year you fell in love with Satoru, and the year he left you. 

Your heartbeat felt sickening in your own chest as he walked towards you, his eyes widened and jaw slacked as if he were in a trance. Like he hadn’t expected to see you again.

It’s not like you thought you’d see him again either. You had told yourself that even if you did, it wouldn’t hurt, because you’d moved on. It had been years since you gave up on him, so you should be feeling nothing as your first love came to a halt in front of you, gazing at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.

It didn’t feel like nothing, though. It felt a whole like despair, relief, and joy warring with each other, causing your fingertips to tremble as if your body couldn’t decide which emotion to settle on.

“Long time no see, Gojo,” you said, attempting to offer a warm smile. Though the tremulous note to your voice must have betrayed how you were truly feeling.

He frowned ever so slightly when you said his name, like he wasn’t used to you calling him by his last name. It was formal and cold - when things between you two used to be anything but. 

“You’re here,” he said, though it sounded like he was saying it to himself rather than talking to you. 

“Ah, Gojo. I see you’ve met our newest hire. She’ll be working with your students for the summer, I imagine you two will be working together closely,” the principal said. But Gojo wasn’t looking at him. You still felt the heavy weight of his gaze, like he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away.

“Why don’t you two grab lunch together? Gojo can catch you up on his students,” the principal said. So why did your body go rigid at his harmless suggestion?

“Sorry, I have to make a phone call during lunch! Gojo, feel free to email me any details I need to know,” you said quickly, smiling before you darted towards the courtyard.

You cursed yourself for running away, like a coward. What was there to be afraid of? He was someone you loved years ago, and time washed away any lingering feelings you had for him…right? 

At least that’s what you’d always told yourself. But maybe deep down, you feared some of those feelings would never go away. And that they’d definitely resurface if you let yourself be near him, if you let yourself remember how much he used to mean to you. How badly he hurt you.

You shook your head, hoping the crisp morning air would wash some sense into you. This position was your dream job, and you weren’t gonna let your past demons take that away from you. You could be civil, you could work with him like the mature adult you were. It would be okay.

~

“I wonder if our new teach would tell me where she gets her lipgloss?” Nobara asked aloud, walking in step with Yuji and Megumi as they filed out of the classroom.

“She’s really pretty,” Yuji said, smiling cheesily. It was a buzz amongst all the students actually, how beautiful the newest teacher was. The students warmed up to her quickly, captivated by her knowledge and how easy she was to talk to. 

“Gojo always looks like he’s in a trance whenever he sees her,” Megumi said, making his two companions snap their attention to him.

“Do you think they’re dating?!” Nobara nearly yelled, her eyes widening comically.

“Maybe not. They both look kinda sad when they look at each other and they think the other person isn’t looking,” Megumi noted, looking deep in thought.

“Woah, you’re so observant. Maybe they’re exes, I heard they knew each other when they were younger,” Yuji said.

“Eh? No way sensei could pull someone like her,” Nobara said.

~

Two weeks have passed since you began teaching, and you loved it. Plus, you’d managed to have as minimal contact with Gojo as possible. Things would be fine after all.

You stepped into the teacher’s lounge, eager to grab your bag and head back home now that the day was over. But your bag wasn’t on the hook where you usually hung it up. When you turned around however, Gojo was leaning against the doorframe, taking up nearly the entire frame.

“Can I help you with something, Gojo?” you asked politely, willing your heart to settle down at his proximity.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and there it was again. The inexplicable feeling that swarmed your senses whenever you heard the sound of his voice, no matter what he was saying. Your traitorous body responded to it no matter how much you told it not to.

“Um, tomorrow might be better during our free period! I’m actually looking for my…” you began, stopping your sentence as Gojo used two fingers to effortlessly lift your heavy bag.

“I’ll give this back to you when you agree to have dinner with me. Tonight,” he said, flashing a boyish smile at you that was oh so painfully familiar. 

“You can’t be serious,” you said, crossing your arms as Gojo took another step towards you. He was so close, and much taller than you remembered. He seemed to take up the entirety of the room you were in, making it harder to breathe and think clearly.

“I thought you knew me better than that, tea. I absolutely am,” he drawled, and the butterflies in your stomach swarmed at the mention of his old nickname for you. Hearing it used to fill you with love and light, because he began calling you the endearment after learning how much you adored tea. He’d often show up at your door with your favorite drinks, happily indulging in your obsession. 

You blinked the memory away, refocusing your gaze back to the man in front of you. 

“This isn’t funny,” you said, reaching towards your bag. He lifted it up and out of your reach easily.

“What isn’t funny is how you’ve been avoiding me since you got here. Why can you barely look me in the eye?” he said, the slight hurt in his voice hitting your heart. Your eyes darted around the room in a panic before you answered.

“Can you really blame me? We don’t have the best history,” you said, your voice coming off harsher than you intended. 

“That’s what I want to clear up. Just hear me out this once, please,” he said, his tone softening as he spoke. You hated it, how quickly you could feel yourself giving into him. After a beat of silence, you spoke.

“Just this once,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. 

There it was. That familiar, triumphant upturn of his lips. 

~

You second guessed your choice as you walked towards Gojo’s car - a sleek, navy luxury car you remember he’d gotten for his 18th birthday. But there was no way he didn’t have other cars by now, so you couldn’t help but wonder if he picked this car today on purpose.

He swiftly opened the door to the passenger seat, allowing you to slip in before he slid into the drivers seat.

There was something undeniably intimate about being alone in the car with him. Being in such close quarters meant you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin, the minty remnants of the mints he always carried with him. You felt bespelled watching his long fingers wrap around the wheel, blushing as he wrapped his arm around your headrest and leaned towards you to look behind him as he backed out of the spot. 

A memory flooded towards you. Of a freshly 18-year old Gojo excitedly picking you up in his shiny new car, nearly getting you into a car crash as he carelessly spun the wheel in his excitement. You’d given him a firm talking to about him being careful, and he smiled at you sheepishly before he walked you to get ice cream. 

The sound of buttons clicking pulled you from your reverie. You watched wordlessly as Gojo set the seat warmer to the lowest setting and turned the ac up to 71, the exact settings you used to switch them to whenever you were his passenger princess.

“Is that still how you like it?” he asked, casting you a quick sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road. You wondered if you imagined the hopeful note to his voice.

“Yes,” you answered quietly. 

Oh , I definitely still like it, you thought, eyes roaming across Gojo’s figure as he drove. His seat was leaned back to make room for his long legs, and he kept one hand on the wheel as he drove with the elegant ease he must’ve developed in your time apart. It was stupid, how attracted you still were to him.

You didn’t miss the way Gojo glanced at you ogling him, the corner of his lip tipping up like it so pleased him.

~

You followed Gojo into a gorgeous restaurant that you were undoubtedly underdressed for. A smartly dressed man greeted the two of you immediately, leading you to a table right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It offered you a gorgeous view of the skyline, the soft glow of the sunset making the silverware sparkle. 

You couldn’t help but look around in confusion at the quietness of the restaurant - save for the nice host, you were the only ones there.

“I booked out the place for the night. So we could catch up in peace,” Gojo said easily, as if that were something normal to do. You couldn’t say you were too surprised though, as he had the same penchant for spending and the fortune to back it since he was younger.

“Of course you did,” you said, shaking your head as you smiled to yourself.

Gojo leaned forward in his seat, studying you like you just performed magic.

“I’ve missed that smile of yours,” he said softly. It wasn’t fair, the way the last bits of sunshine of the day lit up the gold  flecks in his eyes. The way his hair nearly shone silver, making him look otherworldly as he told you he missed you. 

“I don’t know what to say to you, Gojo,” you said, forcing neutrality into your tone. But as soon as you spoke the words, you could hear how sad they sounded.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, sounding like his younger self once more. 

You met his eyes, releasing a deep breath as you did your best to offer a smile.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” you admitted, watching the way his shoulders eased ever so slightly.

“But you hurt me,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I was ready to stick out long distance when you moved away. You stopped answering my calls, responding to my letters. I tried reaching you for months before I gave up, Gojo. There was no goodbye, no explanation. What was I supposed to think? How do you expect me to greet you with a smile now as if nothing happened?” you said, your voice cracking towards the end. 

“I know we were 18 and stupid, but I…” 

I loved you. You were everything to me. And no matter how much time had past, how much you dated around, no one ever compared to you.

You shook your head, unable to get the words out.

It would forever be fresh in your mind, the day you found out Gojo was being shipped off to a different country by his stupid family to train. 

The devastation was overwhelming. You curled up in your room, crying into your pillow as Gojo sat silently on the edge of your bed.

“Do you really have to go?” you sniffed, though it didn’t sound like that, with your throat clogged with tears.

Gojo laid beside you, pulling your back to his chest as he held you and buried his face in your hair.

“I don’t have a choice, tea. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking off at the end. You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as he held you brusingly tight. You rubbed his back as you felt his tears hit your shoulder.

After the cry you both needed, you faced each other silently, as if you were committing each other to memory.

“I won’t give up on us. I’ll call you everyday to bug the hell out of you,” he said, giving you the first lopsided smile of the night.

“For how long, though?” you said sadly, feeling the hope leeching out of you with each word you said aloud.

“For as long as it takes for me to become the strongest. And for you to become the teacher you’ve always wanted to be. I’ll come back for you,” he promised, lacing his long fingers through yours. There was hope alight in those eyes of his, convincing your own hope to stay.

“You promise?” you asked, sounding so much more like a young child than you wished.

“I promise.” he said, and you kissed him then. There was something so magnetic about him, the type of person that made you want to believe anything was possible. But you hadn’t known that would be the last time you kissed.

You had no way of knowing that your boyfriend would keep up with his promise for a month, and then suddenly leave you with nothing. He stopped responding to your letters, stopped his calls, stopped reminding you how much he loved you. The only time you ever heard about him was when the news featured his growing talents.

The sound of Gojo’s voice ripped you away from the memory.

“You have every right to be upset with me,” he began, his cerulean eyes betraying his grief.

“Was there someone else?” you asked before you could think better, cursing yourself.

“No,” he said forcefully, wincing like it hurt him for you to think that.

“There was never anyone else. Never,” he said, and you couldn’t help the relief flooding your chest.

“They got in my head about you. Convinced me that I was holding you back, that you could never focus on school enough to become a teacher good enough to teach at Jujutsu High if you were in a long distance relationship with me. I thought I was doing what was best for you,” he said, his voice low and regretful as he spoke. 

The man across from you blurred as tears filled your vision. You spent months agonizing over the possible reasons he would abandon your relationship, and your young, heartbroken self was convinced it had something to do with you. That he found someone, and suddenly you weren't his cup of tea anymore. Never did it cross your mind that he thought he was doing you a favor by ghosting you.

“God, Gojo. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” you cried, doing nothing to mask the grief in your voice. 

“I knew you’d tell me that it was incredibly stupid of me. And I know it was now, but back then I thought it would be easier if I made the choice for you. You deserved to have your full focus on pursuing teaching,” he said solemnly, lifting a hand towards your face as if he were going to wipe your tears, but laying his hand back down like he thought against it.

“You’re right, that was incredibly stupid of you,” you said, heaving a deep breath as your swiped the last of your tears.

“But I get why you did it. I just wish you would’ve included me in that choice, because you know what I thought? I thought if you could discard me, discard us that easily, that I must’ve not meant as much to you as you meant to me. That you didn’t love me as much as I loved you,” you said shakily, a single traitorous tear falling down your cheek.

Your emotions overwhelmed you as you saw his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears - a sight that hurt you as much as it did when you were both 18.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said, his voice hushed as he made the confession.

It felt like you were no longer in your own body as emotions assaulted you all at once. Happiness, relief, confusion, devastation. They warred with each other, and you didn’t know if the burst of nerves you were feeling was panic or excitement.

“You don’t mean that. Maybe you still love who I was when I was 18, but things are different now. I’m different,” you said, watching as Gojo shook his head softly.

“You’re right. You have become even more beautiful than I remember,” he began, and you knew you had lost. This wasn’t a game, but somehow you still lost.

“I’ve seen the way you work with the kids. I’m in awe of how confident and capable you’ve become. But I’ve also seen what hasn’t changed,” he said, leaning towards you with the light back in his eyes.

“Your tenacity. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your drive. The way your eyes light up when you teach, the way you see the best in people. That’s how I fell in love with you, and I know thats still there,” he said, looking at you with the kind of reverence you forgot existed.

You closed your eyes as you failed at calming your thunderous heart. 

“I can’t do this, Gojo. I can’t put myself in a position to be hurt by you again,” you said, casting your eyes down in your lap. You couldn’t bear to see defeat in his eyes.

You jolted as you felt the soothing, painfully familiar touch of his hand over yours. 

“Look at me,” he pleaded softly, coaxing your eyes back towards his. When you met them again, they were filled with warmth, and you believed it. That he still loved you.

“You don’t owe me anything. I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But I’m not taking back what I said. I’ve loved you since before you were mine. And I always will.” He finished you off by lifting your hand to his lips, a gesture you were still a used to be a sucker for.

~

In the days that followed, Gojo consumed your every thought. It didn’t help that you worked so closely, and it especially didn’t help to see how good he was with the students. He goofed around with them more than a normal teacher would, but he taught them earnestly. No matter how much they complained about his antics, you could tell your students loved him.

It also didn’t help when he began leaving your favorite milk tea on your desk before the start of every school day, earning you a “wow teach, you must really love that tea shop,” comment from Yuji.

It was slightly embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how much it brightened your day to see that cup of tea sitting on your desk, knowing how much Gojo still thought of you. And it didn’t stop at tea.

Over the course of the next month, your favorite flowers began showing up with your tea. Sometimes, instead of flowers it was your favorite candy. Gojo never lingered around to hand them to you himself, just giving you sweet smiles and waves whenever you locked eyes. You knew it was his way of giving you space to choose, and no matter how cheesy it was, it was working.

~

It was about 3 months after that dinner that you found yourself sitting with the principal for your quarterly one-on-one. You were pleased to hear the praises of your work and the positive feedback he’d received from students regarding you, but something in particular he said had you shaken up.

“I knew you and Gojo would work well together. You both had very moving reasons for wanting to teach here,” he said casually.

“Moving reasons?” you pressed, feeling like you were on the verge of something.

“Oh, yes. I was highly impressed by your years of dedication and experience, you were an obvious choice. But Gojo didn’t have much teaching experience when I hired him, it was really his reason for teaching that sold me on him,” he answered. And you didn’t know why, but your pulse grew uncomfortably quick.

“He told me that teaching helped him feel close to someone he loved. And that person taught him how powerful a good teacher could be,” the principal said. There was a beat of silence, followed by the screeching sound your chair made and you sat up suddenly. You apologized and excused yourself, rushing towards a certain office door.

Your movements were too quick for your thoughts to catch up. You just knew you had to see him.

He wasn’t in his office. Not in his classroom, not in the teacher’s lounge. That sickening panic began invading your senses, reminding you that it wasn’t the first time you desperately searched for Gojo and couldn’t find him.

But you pushed past it and kept walking. You walked until you reached the outer edge of campus, spotting a flash of silver hair atop a hill that overlooked the school. 

You ran towards it like your life depended on it, huffing and puffing until you finally locked gazes with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Though the eyes that normally regarded you with warmth were unusually widened with concern as Gojo ran towards you.

“Hey, whats going on-”

“Why did you become a teacher?” you said, struggling to catch your breath. Gojo looked stunned for a second, staring at you silently as he waited for you to continue.

“Why did you decide to work for Jujutsu High, out of all the high schools in Japan?” you continued, watching as his expression turned pensive. But his eyes shone with all the words he’d yet to say.

“I didn’t intend on becoming a teacher. I just gave it a shot one day, because I knew how passionate you were about it. And I loved it,” he said, staring out wistfully towards the lecture halls.

“As for why I picked Jujutsu High,” he began, turning his body towards you again. He walked to you, stopping until there was barely a step of space between your bodies. 

“I picked it because I knew this was your dream school to work at. I hoped I would see you again if I worked here,” he admitted, smiling sadly. You shook your head in disbelief.

“This was my dream school when I was 18. What if I changed my mind and worked somewhere else? What if I didn’t even become a teacher?” you said frantically, searching for a crack in his resolve.

Gojo reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand. You had no choice but to tilt your head up to meet his, feeling new emotions flooding you at the look in his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. The thought of seeing you again is what has kept me going all these years. Even if I mean nothing to you now,” he breathed, removing his hand from your cheek. He stepped away from you, giving you the space you realized you no longer wanted.

You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry at this new revelation. But you did know one thing; you wanted Gojo Satoru. You wanted another shot with him.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face into his chest. He smelled like mint and summer and everything good with the world as his arms immediately came up to hold you to him.

He released a shaky breath as he held you, like he couldn’t believe he’d get to do it again.

“Of course you still mean something to me,” you whispered through tears you didn’t realize you were shedding. Gojo gently pulled back from your hug, capturing both your face between his hands. He swiped his thumbs gently against your tears, that reverent, warm gaze back in those eyes of his.

“What should I make of that, tea?” he asked, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. You realized how much you missed his touch, how you’ve longed to feel his smooth, porcelain skin against yours again.

“You’re gonna have to work reallyyyy hard if you want me to fall in love with you again,” you said, smiling as his eyes widened and his jaw slacked.

Liar. It wouldn’t take much at all.

“You’re giving me another chance?” he said incredulously. You nodded shyly, smiling as Gojo awarded you with the most brilliant, heart-stopping smile. The kind that crinkled his eyes at the corners, the kind that stretched his cheeks, the kind that you had no choice but to mirror.

The breath left your body as Gojo lifted you up by your hips, swinging you around in a circle like the last scene of a Disney movie where the prince and princess reunited. 

It felt like a weight was released from your shoulders as he spun you around, the two of you laughing like teenagers again.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

~

“They have to be dating, there’s no way they’re not!” Nobara exclaimed, walking to get food with the other first years after class.

“Gojo sensei follows her around like a puppy. I could actually see hearts in his eyes when he looks at her! I swore I even heard her call him Toru,” Yuji said, him and Nobara nodding to each other intently.

“Maybe. Our new teacher has been looking really happy lately,” Megumi said.

[awearywritersworld]

"do you like me?" "nope."

gojo satoru x reader summary: even yuuji realizes that gojo has a crush on you, but you're oblivious as ever w/c: 1.1k tags/warnings: ft. yuuji and megumi. fluff. super light angst. lots of banter. a lil mutual pining. yuuji and gojo being chaotic. gender neutral reader. a/n: not sure how this turned out, but it was fun to write! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

"(l/n)-sensei!!"

you're trying to relax and really, fifteen minutes is all you want, but these days that seems impossible.

you turn your head toward the sparring field just in time to see yuuji fly into a tree about 30 yards away. megumi is already on the ground struggling to get up.

meanwhile gojo is prancing, literally prancing, in the opposite direction. you walk toward the group with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment playing across your features, all your hope for some peace and quiet crushed.

"that was awesome!" the pink haired boy shouts from amid a mess of leaves and branches.

gojo gushes over the praise, his hands pressing against his cheeks. "thank you, yuuji! it's nice to know someone around here appreciates my unmatched strength."

"i don't remember offering to be a part of the demonstration," megumi grumbles, finally rising to his feet.

his demeanor is less than pleased and you glance at him sympathetically before turning to gojo. "you do know that you're an adult, right? like, as in, a fully grown man."

"(y/n)-chaaaaan, you're always so mean to me," he whines, grabbing your hands dramatically. "what have i done to deserve such cruel treatment?"

"today or in general?" you pretend to think for a second. "i seem to remember you waking me up at seven this morning so that you didn't have to go to your meeting with masamichi-san alone-"

"he was mad at me for skipping the last one i had!"

"-and then you hid my phone for almost an hour because i wouldn't give you my last candy bar-"

"i was starving, (y/n)-chan! it wasn't my fault, you know that!"

"-and then you destroyed that tree, which i really happened to like by the way."

his gaze flickers toward that direction, the splintered wood a sad remnant of what it used to be, then throws his arms in the air. "this is so unfair!"

"(l/n)-sensei! did you see?" yuuji calls out, already fully recovered and bounding toward you.

"i sure did." you chuckle at his tattered clothes and unfazed attitude.

"what'd ya think?"

you really can't bring yourself to scold him, not with all the excitement in his voice. "oh, it was certainly something."

"did you hear that, gojo-sensei?" yuuji lights up.

megumi disguises his laugh with a cough. "i don't think that was a compliment."

the boy visibly deflates so you ruffle his hair. "it was pretty cool, i just don't want you getting hurt." that earns a grin, to your relief.

"so i get yelled at, but you're nice to him?" gojo pouts indignantly.

"yes."

"ugh! this is killing me, (y/n)-chan!" he announces before promptly knocking you to the ground, the action something between a hug and a tackle.

"gojo, get off of me!" you yell, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"i can't! not until you forgive me!"

your giggles ring through the air, music to gojo's ears, and your hands push him away as he tries to tickle your sides. you look like two kids, rolling around in the grass and shouting at one another.

yuuji leans in toward megumi, his voice hushed as if he's about to reveal the world's biggest secret. "i'm starting to think there's something going on between those two."

his friend looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "you're just now noticing?"

~~~

you're making dinner in your apartment while gojo sits on the kitchen floor, his legs splayed out and taking up nearly half of the small room. his blindfold had been discarded at one point or another, something he made a habit of doing when it was just the two of you.

"what are we having tonight, chef?"

"me? i'm having braised chicken thighs. i'm not sure about you though," you tease.

you didn't invite him to dinner, he just kind of followed you back to your place after sparring practice. you don't really mind, you never do, not that you'd ever admit it out loud.

"you wouldn't give me your candy bar and now you won't have dinner with me either? today is the worst! is this still about the tree? i told you i was sorry-"

"geez i was just kidding!" you cut him off. "of course you can have some, but only if you get the flour off the top shelf for me."

"i guess that's a fair trade," he reasons, rising to his feet lazily.

the cabinet is just to your left, so his body presses into yours as he reaches up, the contact making your heart flutter.

"thanks," you exhale when he sets it down within your reach.

he doesn't return to his sitting position, just leans against the counter and watches you carefully stir the ingredients in the pan.

"do you like me?" he inquires suddenly.

"nope."

"hm, do you like like me?" he suggests, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"gojo, that's honestly defamatory."

he rolls his eyes playfully. "c'mon, be serious."

"you be serious," you challenge the usually facetious man.

"i am."

resting your spoon on the pan, you turn to face him, unsure if he's just messing with you like always. the room is silent, save for the faint popping of oil, as he waits for you to say something.

"why do you wanna know?"

"'cause i like you, why else?"

your hands gather the fabric of your apron nervously, crumpling it between your fingers while you avoid his gaze. his words strike you as entirely implausible. after all, he's gojo and you're, well, you.

"you... you shouldn't joke about stuff like that."

he laughs at you and it breaks your heart a little, but then you feel two lithe hands on either side of your face. "(y/n), look at me."

you do, albeit apprehensively, and his eyes bore into your own with an intensity you aren't familiar with. it makes your knees feel weak. a smile tugs at his lips before they capture your own, the movement slow and soft.

your fingers reach up to wrap around his wrist, an attempt to steady yourself against him, before one of his hands travels down to your hip and gives it a light squeeze.

you taste so sweet, feel so perfect in his hands, that gojo kicks himself for waiting so long to kiss you. his lips move to the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, then begin to work their way up your jaw. he hums against your skin, satisfied with the breathy noises he's pulling from your throat.

then, the smell of burning invades your senses and you pull away from each other with wide eyes, exclaiming in unison. "the food!"

[romanarose]

First and Last

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader x Wade Wilson

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Summery: You are inexperienced outside of Logan, so he lets you get fucked by his fwend!!!

Warnings: Threesome, mfm threesome, m/m dynamics here and there, Wade is menace. PIV sex, sharing reader, blowjob, balls <3, protective Logan, lots of explicit consent, oral f and m, cumming in pants too soon. Bisexuality <3 Similar themes as Awakening with Triple Frontier <3

Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, dresses in dresses, has hair.

A/N: I'm so excited for this!!!! First Wade Wilson fic? So excited!!! I've been writing some logan mostly at my dark account @romana-after-dark. I hope I did okay!!!

Sorry for the repost, this wasn't showing up in the tags at all??? So I'll retag those who rebloged my first one that i remember. Im so sorry to those I didn't remember!!!

You were a virgin when you met Logan.

That didn’t last long.

Sure, Logan took his time, not taking your first kiss and virginity at the same time, but you were as desperate for him as he was for you. You loved your Wolverine. Your sweet, cuddly bear of a man who protected you with a ferocity you’d never seen before and loved you with a tenderness you’ve never felt. 

Still, some days you wondered…

Logan brought it up first. You certainly weren’t going to suggest sleeping with someone else, absolutely not. You loved, loved, loved your boyfriend and he never once left you sexually lacking. Logan learned everything your body liked, everything it didn’t, and brought you pleasure and comfort in one go. It was just that natural bit of curiosity in you that occasionally it flittered across you mind. Not that you thought anyone could be better than Logan; no one could. Even with a bigger cock or someone more eager tongue, the love you shared would always elevate sex. Still, it was more what other people felt like.

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like, having sex with other people?” Logan waited until after sex, when the room was filled with emotional intimacy, but after he cleaned you up. He ever put you in his green flannel. He always put clothes on you before talking about anything serious, and one day you asked him why. He said he wants an even playing field, and at first you think your tits are distracting, but then he continues. He doesn’t want you to feel vulnerable or emotionally naked when you talk.

Heat creeps up your neck. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, but you remain honest. “Sometimes it crosses my mind I guess… But really, not something I like, sit and ponder about. I promise.”

“Hm.” He grunts, playing with your hair and looking at your lips, and for a moment you think he didn’t like that answer. Then he adds. “Have you ever thought about Wade?”

That’s how you got here. After some gentle coaxing, you say no, you never thought about Logan’s friend sexually. You asked if he ever thought about Wade sexually, and he just smirked. ‘Thought about him with you.’

Now you were sat on Logan’s lap on the bed, Wade standing against the wall just watching as Logan explores your body.

“Prettiest fuck’n tits you ever seen…”

Wade has a big grin plastered across his face. ”So you keep saying.” He says with a little laughter, hand fidgeting near his crotch but not touching yet. Not until Logan gives him permission. “And yet, they are like Hugh Jackman in my first two movies.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about half the time.

Logan gives a tit a squeeze, and you stifle a whimper. “Need her to get comfortable, first.” Logan turns into your neck, and you can feel his facial hair tickling your skin. A warm reminder that you are safe, loved and protected. “You nervous, pumpkin?” He coos into the crop of your neck, and you nod shyly. “Do you wanna stop?” You quickly shake your head.

Wade speaks now, more sincere than you are used to from him but still that playful tone. “You sure about that?” He holds up his hand, palm out, and wiggles his fingers. “Nothing tighter than my right hand.”

This made you smile, and Logan continued to touch you. He hooks your legs over his knees, spreading his own legs wide and letting Wade get a good look up your skirt at the cute panties you picked out just for him.

Wade whistles, his cock clearly tenting in his sweats. “C’mon Logan, you’re fucking with me here. I did not consent to edging, we’d have to negotiate that contract.”

A low rumble against your back and Logan chuckles. “Go ahead and touch yourself, dumbass.” As Wade quickly goes to palm at himself, groaning obscenely loud, and Logan responds by dragging his fingers over your clothes clit and tickles the soaked material. 

“Mmmmm” You sign happily at the contact, but stifled from the noises Logan has pulled out of you again and again and again. “Still feeling shy?” He murmurs against your skin, even as he delivers a small slap to your pussy.

You jolt. “M’ sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, just tell me what you want to do. Cards are in your hands.”

And they were. You look at Wade touching himself, heat growing in your stomach at the idea of him between your legs. Nothing in you says stop, no alarm bells to ignore… Wade could be balls deep inside your pussy and if you said stop, he’d stop. You knew Wade enough for that, but you also knew Logan was going to protect you. You doubted you could get to that point without Logan reading your body. No, you trusted them. “Just nerves.” You tell him finally, locking eyes with Wade for a moment before turning away. The heat was too intense, too much sexual tension in the room, the three of you’s desire for each other. You just needed to cool off. “Don’t wanna stop just… I need to relax.” You tell Logan.

Ever attentive, his hands leave your dripping core and go to your shoulders, rubbing them. In a half-whisper, he says, “Would it help if I told you his middle name was Winston?”

A beat of silence.

Then, you giggle. The air is lighter in the room, but no less attraction. You felt better.

Two large hands slide up your middle to cup your breasts. “Are you ready, sweet girl?” 

You look at Wade grinning ear to ear. You can feel Logan’s comforting presence all around you.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

*

Logan had taken care of the communication, and everyone was clear on rules and boundaries between the three of you. Well, yours and Logans anyway. Wade was absulty down for anything, stating “Any appendage, any hole.” He said something about toes and urethas, but Logan said something along the lines of , “shut the fuck up, she hasn’t even done anal yet, don’t scare the poor girl.”

Anal play was a no. Logan and you had definitely messed around with some finger and tongue action, but his cock hadn’t gone in yet, and you certainly weren’t letting Wade get in on that action before your loving boyfriend. As for other anal play, you just didn’t feel comfortable with a man you weren’t dating up in that. What if you farted? Well, Wade might be into that actually. Second rule was you stayed in your dress. Maybe it’s silly considering he’ll be up inside your guts, but you weren’t totally confident enough to undress in front of another man. 

Logan’s rules were very clear and simple. Firstly, your comfort comes before everything. Wade can’t lose himself. That was his rule for Wade, but he had a request for you too. 

“First and last,” He asked of you. “Your first and last orgasms belong to me, because no matter what happens here, you’re still mine. His cum might be leaking out of you, but it’s mine that’s gonna get you pregnant one day, do you understand?” 

That idea alone made your stomach do flips… but for the time being, you were on birth control.

Once you told Logan you were ready, Logan stood with you in his arms like you were weightless, turning around to gently lay you down on the bed. He ate you out slower than usual, insisting he wanted to take him time, get you to relax. Wade was suddenly leaning over where Logan knelt on the floor, hands on his shoulders and humps his still-clothed erection onto Logan’s back.

“No fingers yet? Wolvie, baby, you know better than anyone you gotta open her up or this is gonna hurt.”

“Shut the hell up.” Logan growled, then kissed your inner thigh. “She can take it, can’t you baby?”

You scrambled to get a grip on his gentle waves, trying to pull him back into your cunt. “Yes, but Lo, please don’t stop!”

“Ohhhh poor baby…” Logan teases you with a striped licked up your soaked folds. “You need me? Does my girl need me?”

Wade gives a long, slow grind against Logan’s back. “Better give her your fingers soon or I’m gonna go klablewy in my pants.”

Only half listening, Logan looks up at you through his dark lashes, Logan asks you. “That what you need? Need me to open you up, bub?”

You nod furiously, pulling him into you. Not making any effort to tell Wade to fuck off, Logan slides two thick fingers into your dripping channel, causeing you to sigh in relief and Wade to whimper, rutting against Logan like a dog. Instead of pushing him off, Logan reached behind himself and grabbed Wade’s leg, gluing them together and encouraging him on. The sight causes you to chase your high against his face and fingers.

“That’s right, take what you need, go ahead and use me… there we go, feels good doesn’t it?” You didn’t know if he was talking to you or to Wade.

When Wade begins moaning, face twisting in pleasure, Logan picks up his pace. He could feel Wade cumming against him, and seconds later you were gushing out onto his mouth. Getting two people off at once was not something he’d ever thought about, but as he felt it happening Logan couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest.

Your body goes limp under him, sighing contently the way he loves so much, and he feels Wade braced against him still.

“You gonna be ready to go again, or is your dick as fucked as the rest of you?” Logan teases, starting to stand and only just now shoving the other man back a little.

“Ooh hoo hoo, just give me a minute, Logey boo. There are 206 bones in the human body, 207 if I’m watching you touch this sweet little thing.”

You smile up at him, happy to see him happy, happy he’s here. “Would touching me speed up the process?”

Wade practically jumps on the bed.

*

Once Wade was hard again, you were put into position, handmaid's tale style. Logan sat against the padded bedpost, legs spread, with you in between them. You rest your head on his jeans covered cock as Wade lines himself up at your entrance. He’s longer than Logan but not as thick, cut while Logan isn’t.

He was perfect, just not as perfect as your loving boyfriend. Wade pushes into you quickly, forcing a sharp breath to exhale out of you, nails digging into Logan’s hands where he holds you.

“Wade! For fucks sake, go easy on the girl!”

But you surprise Logan by begging Wade for more. “Please, please, please, give it to me, give it to me Wade.” You look up at your lover. “Logan, please tell him, tell him to fuck me?” Your hips buck, begging for friction.

Logan chuckles. “You heard my girl, Wade-o, give it to her.”

Wade fucking woops, fucking your pussy with an energy you weren’t used to. Logan was an incredible lover, stamina and tenderness, he was not lacking in energy and passion during sex, but Wade? Whole other story. Wade fucked hard and fast, hands wandering all over every inch of your body, whether exposes skin or your pretty dress. Never once did he try to push aside any clothing or show him more than comfortable, simply told you how pretty you looked in this dress. 

“Jesus, how did you find a cute little doll like this?” Wade practically giggles with glee. “This is gonna be in my wet dreams for as long as I live, which, as it happens, is a long fucking time. God, I could just live in this sweet little pussy forever. If you were mine, you’d never be able to walk straight.”

Logan, never one to be shown up by Wad’s mouth, talks right back, fingertips trailing down your front. “Why do you think we canceled on drinks last week? Had to carry her to the bath she was fucked so raw.”

“You kept it up that long, old man?” 

“‘Till she was cry’n”

 “Looks like she’s about ready to start that again.”

Tears were blurring in your eyes, the heat inside you festering into your lower stomach as Wade ravaged your core. You could feel him inside you, your body shifting and making room for him to reach deep inside you than anyone or anything had before. The way he touched your body made you feel wonderfully desired, Wade’s ADHD mind jumping from part to part, giving attention to bits of you that could never have found sex, while Logan’s careful and precise minstrations massaged those erogenous zones. There were even a few sounds Wade pulled from you touching new places that Logan took note of, making sure to know exactly what makes his girl whimper and whine. 

He’s not above learning a thing or two, even if he could make your cum untouched with just his voice. Logan knew how to make you feel adored and sexy and cum over and over again on his cock, but if there was a way to make it even better for you, he was gonna learn.

“It’s okay bub, let it out, we got you. Ooooohhh there we go, that’s my girl, crying on Wades cock like a good girl, my pretty wife letting my friend use her cute body to get his rocks off because he can’t find anyone to get his rocks off with”

“Hey now!”

Logan calling you his wife, hinting at what he had always promised you, a future together for the rest of your life.

“Logan!” You reach your hand back, and Logan takes it quickly, anchoring you. “Wade!” You pull Wade close to you, his body slimmer than Logan but covering you in comfort nonetheless. You feel his skin, mangled and beautiful and so uniquely him sliding against your sweat-slick skin, lips coming to kiss as the force of his thrusts rub your head against Logan's hard cock.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum on my dick while Logan watches? You know, generally I like to keep my cucks in a chair, but I’ll make an exception for my little peanut.” Wade boops Logan’s nose.

“Ignore him, pumpk’n” but you didn’t want to ignore Wade, not when he was making your legs shake, your climax crestinc as you whine. The hand that isn’t holding yours cradles your neck on his lap, grounding you into this bed where he’d shown you his love time and time again as you cum on his friend's cock. “That’s it, cum for me, sweet girl. Squeezing your cock so good isn’t she?”

“Like FUCKING HEAVEN!” Wade hollers in your ear, pumping his cum into your cunt against and again while you writhe in their arms, a full body orgasm having blossomed from your stomach and tingling down your toes and fingers. You’d never felt so desired, so sexy, so beautiful. 

Wade collapses on your body and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, whispering a thank you in his ear.

“Anything… for… my OTP!” Wade tries to quip between breathless wheezes, but he’s so tired he remains on your chest, eyes drooping.

Logan plays with your hair, tender touches on your face and down your neck where he caressed Wade’s head as well. You loved this, you loved them, and you especially loved your sweet Logan, the fearsome Wolverine only soft for you… and Wade Wilson, it seems. He start to get up after several minutes, still fully clothed and fully hard. Your head slides off his lap, and his hand guides in gentle down to the bed.

“I’m gonna get you guys cleaned up.”

You catch his hand, gazing up at him questioningly. “First and last, remember?” He wanted to give yoru first and last orgasm, but Logan just smiles down softly at you.

“You’re tired, bub. Let me take care of your guys.”

“I can do another!” You try to assert. This was Logan’s condition, and it’s not like you were in pain or pure exhausted. There was no reason you couldn’t do this for him.

From his place resting on your chest, Wade pipes up. “I see you’re still rocking a stiffy, gramps. I bet we could heat things up in here to the 60’s” He turns to a wall and winks. “The highest 60’s”

Logan shook his head. “Today wasn’t about me.”

But you don’t let go. “First and last. You are my first, and my last, okay?”

His soft smile grows into something more wicked.

*

You are placed on top of him, your sweet pussy dripping down onto his tongue, his thumb fucking your ass, and cock making your mouth gag. Wade, a tired wittle guy, laid down between Logan’s legs and under mouth, slobbering with Logan’s balls in his mouth. Gagging on your lover’s shaft, Wade is not put off by your saliva and Logan’s precum dripping down on him. Likewise, Logan was not bothered by swallowing down Wade’s cum. In fact, he ate you out with more vigor than he had earlier, humming contently at the taste of his friend.

Wade guided you, using your mouth like a toy to pleasure his friend. With fingers entangled in your locks he pulls your head off and pushes it back down, forcing your throat to take whatever it’s given. Still, somehow he listens to those little cues of yours and never pushes it too far. You gag and moan in delight as Logan devours your puffy pussy, your tight little ring of muscle squeezing down on his thumb. Finger nails dig into Logan’s thick thighs and he’s not sure who they belong to, you or Wade, and before he can draw it out any longer Logan is flooding your mouth with rope after rope of hot cum.

“Yeah, fuck, don’t fucking stop baby, keep gagging, want my cum spilling on Wade’s face.”

“FUCK YEAH!” Wade shouts, albeit muffled with Logans tightening balls still in his mouth. When Logan finishes pumping your mouth full, you pull off his dick and lean over Wade, mouth full. He leaves Logan and smiles, giving you permission for what you were both thinking. He opens his mouth and spit a blog of saliva and cum into his mouth, slowly letting it drip down before you encased his mouth in your, letting him lick the rest of Logan’s cum out as he watched.

*

Logan did as he promised and took care of you and Wade. The two of you were entangled yourself with each other, arms in arms, legs wrapped around waists as Logan got a warm wash of clothes and cleaned both of you up with a gentle touch you ’d never seen him give Wade, but you liked seeing it. Wade and you provided each other with that skin to skin as Logan handled the technical, praising you both.

While Logan made you and Wade drink water, he rummaged through his clothes, tossing Wade some sweats and looking at you as he pulled on boxers. “Can I take you to the bathroom so I can get you into something more comfortable?”

You consider his words for a minute. He was offering you privacy, not requiring you to undress in front of Wade nor stay in the dress. Wade mumbles something about leaving the room, but he was clearly half asleep. Thing was, you didn't feel embarrassed with Wade anymore.

“You can change me here.”

Logan smiles down at you, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to your dick-sucking-swollen lips, and grabs at the hem of your dress. Even though he’s tired, Wade helps lift up your hips, then torso, then neck with his strength and is nice and carefully laying you down again on your nice soft bed. When Logan finally joins you two, you’re surprised to find that inside of going to curl his arms around you at your side, he crawls up between you and Wade. For a second you think there’s jealousy, that he wants distance between you two and you fear he’s about to send Wade out. Spending the night was not in the plan, but neither was that intense sexual chemistry between all three of you. You didn’t love Wade, but you felt close to him. You wanted him to stay.

Instead of kicking Wade wraps his arms around both of you, pulling you close to him. He was warm, safe, strong as you laid your body down on top of his chest, Wade opting to curl in more and rest on Logan’s abs, muttering “Mmmmm my peanut” and for once Logan didn’t tell him to shut up. When Wade starts snoring, Logan continues to play with your hair as he speaks.

“Was everything okay, pumpkin? You feel good?”

“Yeah,” You confirm, nodding off to sleep in content happiness. “Are you okay that I kissed Wade? We didn’t really talk about that.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind, beautiful girl. I know who you belong to.”

You kiss his left peck. “My first and last.”

I HOPE I DID OKAY!!!!!!

I love them you're honor ;-; WADE IS CANONICALLY QUEER SO DONT ERASE THATW HEN YOU WRITE HIM!!!

I love wolverine/ deadpool <3

I love my queer men

Thank you for reading! I have a/b/o Logan series coming after I finish up some Pedro Pascal fics!!!

@clawsandbullets @sunnyfranc @silversprings-mp3 @apizzacalledmel @marshmallow--3 @titanwind @sheepdogtrick3 @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @xdaddysprincessxx

and thought @tightjeansjavi @multiversed-daydreamer and @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction may enjoy but no presure!!!!

[pretzel-box]

STREAMER AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 5: PAINT YOUR DOUBTS

Tags: Fluff, Drama, Angst, Stolen Identity, did I mention drama already? Also Painter!

Words: 3k

Authors Note: It’s almost Thursday and I couldn't wait. If it's weirdly written or you see mistakes: This was edited on my phone and I am suffering. Please bear with me.

Allison could see the lovestruck gleam in Sebastian’s eyes, and she knew she had won. Leaning closer, she gently rested her forehead against his, her lips curling into a sweet smile as her fingers intertwined with his. “I love you,” she whispered softly, her voice dripping with sincerity. “I always have.”

Sebastian drank in her words, soaking up the affection he so desperately craved. Those three simple words were enough to seal his fate. He pressed his lips to hers once more, the kiss soft but full of unspoken promises—promises to never leave her side, to always be there. In his arms, he finally had his Jelly, and he knew he would never let go.

As Sebastian held her close, his heart pounding as if it had been waiting for this moment all along. In his arms, he believed he finally had everything he ever wanted. Allison—Jelly—was his, and there was nothing that could break this moment.

Their kiss deepened, Sebastian’s grip on her tightened, not out of force, but from a sense of security, like he was holding on to the one thing that could keep him grounded. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers once again, his breath heavy but steady.

"I never thought I'd have you like this," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I waited so long... I was scared I’d lose you before I ever had the chance."

Allison smiled, a hint of triumph hidden behind her gentle gaze. “You’ll never lose me, Sebastian,” she reassured him, her fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Inside, she felt a surge of victory—Sebastian was completely hers now. She had taken Jelly’s place, and he was none the wiser. Allison savored the way he looked at her with devotion, not realizing the depth of her manipulation. She had him right where she wanted him.

But as the two stood there, locked in the warmth of what felt like love to him and power to her, a tiny flicker of guilt brushed against Allison’s mind. She quickly pushed it away. This was for her, for her happiness. Being close to Solace, even if it meant betraying her friend, was worth it.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sebastian continued, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. "It feels right—finally."

Allison leaned in, pressing another kiss to his lips, silencing him for the moment. She didn’t need to hear his words of devotion; she had already won the game.

And as they stood together, the world outside of this moment seemed distant. For now, Sebastian’s world revolved around Allison—his supposed Jelly—and she would make sure it stayed that way.

“How about I pick you up for lunch tomorrow? We can finally test out the new sushi bar you wanted to try so badly.” He whispers against her lips, hoping she would agree to his planned lunch date. He remembered every single thing about her, the way you excitedly rambled about sushi once. Sebastian had mentioned it to Allison again and of course she had to play along, telling him about a sushi bar that opened near their place.

The truth? Allison hated sushi. The smell, the texture, the taste—it all repulsed her. If she wanted the taste of raw fish, she'd rather go lick the ocean. But she couldn’t let that show, not now. Not when Sebastian was falling deeper into her trap. If she had to eat sushi to keep him hooked, she’d swallow every last bite with a smile.

She nodded, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Of course, I’d love to. Just the two of us,” she said sweetly, masking her distaste behind a charming facade.

Sebastian’s face lit up, his heart swelling at her response. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice full of affection. He kissed her forehead softly, pulling her closer in a warm embrace. “I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

Allison smiled sweetly, but internally, she was already dreading tomorrow. The thought of raw fish made her stomach turn, but she couldn’t show any hint of discomfort. She had to play her part perfectly. If sushi was what it took to keep Sebastian wrapped around her finger, then she would endure it.

“Neither can I,” she said, her voice dripping with false excitement. She leaned into his chest, hiding the small grimace that flashed across her face for a brief moment. Allison could handle this. After all, she had gotten this far.

Sebastian stroked her hair, feeling content in her presence. To him, everything was falling into place. He had his Jelly, the one person he had been dreaming of for so long. Nothing could go wrong now.

As the night wore on and they eventually parted ways, Allison’s mind raced. She needed to make sure her disguise as Jelly was airtight. No slip-ups. She couldn’t afford to reveal her true identity now, not when Sebastian was already so smitten. She would suffer through sushi if that’s what it took. She had worked too hard to let it fall apart over something as trivial as food.

Tomorrow, she would smile and pretend to enjoy every bite. Tomorrow, she will play her role perfectly, just as she had from the start.

The next day arrived with the soft rumble of Sebastian's motorcycle pulling up in front of Allison's place. She stood at the entrance, wearing a carefully curated outfit that screamed casual, yet put-together. Her heart raced, but not out of excitement—more out of the looming dread of what she would have to do once they reached the sushi bar.

Sebastian flashed her a grin, his helmet already in hand as he handed her a second one. "Ready?" he asked, voice warm and full of affection.

Allison nodded with a smile, sliding on the helmet and hopping onto the back of his bike, wrapping her arms around his waist. The engine revved, and they sped off down the road, the cool breeze whipping past them as they navigated through the city.

The sushi bar was quaint, tucked into a quiet corner of the street. Sebastian parked the bike, helping Allison off before they entered the place together.

They were greeted with a soft glow from the restaurant's paper lanterns, the delicate smell of rice and fish wafting through the air. Allison tried to suppress her gag reflex as they were seated by the window. Sebastian looked relaxed, glancing over the menu with a small smile on his face, oblivious to her discomfort.

"I think I'll try the chef's special. What about you?" he asked, looking over at her expectantly.

Allison forced another smile. "That sounds great. I’ll have the same."

The waiter soon arrived, jotting down their orders and disappearing into the kitchen. Sebastian reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I’m glad we’re doing this. Feels like it's been a long time coming."

Allison nodded, keeping her facade firmly in place. “Me too.”

But just as things seemed to be going smoothly for her, the door to the restaurant swung open, and her stomach dropped.

It was you.

You walked in, scanning the place casually before your gaze locked onto them. Sebastian noticed too, sitting up straighter, a grin forming on his face. He waved you over.

“Hey! Come join us!” Sebastian called out, his voice breaking through the serene ambiance of the restaurant. "Allison's here too, and you're her friend, right?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what you were walking into. But with no real reason to refuse, you offered a polite smile and walked over to the table. A thousand questions flew through your head as you tried to come up with a reasonable idea why the two of them sat together. “Hey guys,” you greeted them, sitting down as the waiter brought you a menu.

It wasn’t until you sat that the tension became palpable. You looked at Sebastian, then Allison, back and forth, trying to piece together the dynamic between them. The two of them seemed strangely close, almost too close.

Sensing your confusion, Sebastian spoke up. “I meant to tell you… actually, I was going to soon. Allison and I are… we’re dating now.” He said it with pride, glancing at Allison with that same lovestruck expression you recognized all too well.

Your heart sank. A thousand thoughts flooded your mind, each one cutting a little deeper than the last, but you kept your expression neutral, unwilling to let anything show.

“Wow, that’s… that’s great,” you managed to say, forcing a smile that you hoped looked genuine. “I’m really happy for you both.”

Sebastian beamed, clearly oblivious to the sudden shift in your demeanor. Allison, meanwhile, met your gaze with a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind her own facade.

You swallowed hard, your appetite vanishing as the reality settled in. Sebastian had moved on, with Allison of all people. But you had to play along. “So, what’s good here?” you asked lightly, trying to keep the conversation going while your mind raced.

Sebastian eagerly dove into a conversation about the menu and what he planned to order, but you could hardly focus on his words. Your thoughts were too loud, too heavy. You felt like an outsider sitting at the table with them, despite their warm invitation.

Pretending to be happy for them both was the only option you had.

In the span of the next five days, Allison seemed to make your house her permanent residence. She was loud, obnoxious, and clung to Sebastian like bubblegum that just wouldn’t let go. Your motivation to stream was at an all-time low, work had drained you completely, and the heartbreak you were going through felt like the final blow. You’d posted a community update on your streaming account, apologizing for your short absence without getting into much detail. Thankfully, your fans were understanding and flooded the post with messages of support. At least the strangers on the internet still had your back.

It was Thursday evening, and you carried two boxes of Chinese takeout—your favorite. Every third Thursday of the month was Chinese Takeout Thursday, a tradition you and Sebastian had started. Either one of you would bring home food, and the two of you would settle in for an episode of How I Married a Wall Dweller, your favorite TV drama.

You kicked off your shoes and set the takeout on the counter, feeling a brief flicker of hope for a cozy evening. But as you moved through the apartment, a soft, melodic strumming drifted out from Sebastian’s room, followed by Allison’s unmistakable, girly laughter. Your heart sank.

Sebastian was playing guitar for her.

He’d never played guitar for you. He always claimed he wasn’t good enough, that he didn’t want you to hear him make mistakes. Yet here he was, strumming away like he had nothing to hide, serenading Allison while you stood there, boxes of takeout in hand, feeling like you didn’t belong in your own home.

You grabbed one box of takeout and tossed the other in the trash, not even caring. The excitement for your shared tradition had evaporated, leaving a dull ache in its place. With a heavy sigh, you retreated to your room, settling into bed and turning on your favorite TV drama. The room felt unusually cold that night, a chill that settled deep in your bones.

Allison, however, wasn’t resting easy. The more you withdrew from Sebastian, the more threatened she felt. She couldn’t stand the thought of you finding solace in streaming—one thing she couldn't control, especially since she knew how much Sebastian cared about your streaming career.

So she concocted another plan: get Jellycatfished banned.

It wasn’t difficult. You’d been careless enough to use the same password for everything, and Allison had no trouble logging in to your streaming account. It took her mere minutes to get you banned by triggering multiple violations. She knew Sebastian would be concerned and question what had happened, but she was ready with a perfect excuse:

The platform must have made a mistake. They banned you for no reason.

It was flawless. You’d be out of the streaming scene, and she’d make sure Sebastian stayed oblivious. No more streams, no more collaboration invites—just her and Sebastian.

Another win for Allison.

The moment the notification hit your inbox, your heart sank. Your account—Jellycatfished—banned. All the hours, all the work, gone in an instant. It felt like the final straw. You could handle work stress, you could even tolerate Allison’s constant presence, but this? This was your safe space, your escape, and now it is gone.

Without thinking, your first instinct was to message Solace. He deserved to know. You quickly typed a message, your hands trembling as you tried to explain the situation.

"Hey, I just got banned from the platform. I don’t know what happened... but I thought you should know."

What you didn’t realize was that Allison had already gotten to him. She’d mentioned it casually when he asked why you hadn’t been streaming, spinning her story about how the platform must have glitched and banned you for no reason.

Sebastian had seemed concerned, sure, but Allison’s explanation had been so confident, so convincing, that he hadn’t questioned it too much. So when your message came through, his response was quick but flat.

"Yeah, you mentioned that during our date earlier. That sucks, but I’m sure it’ll get sorted out."

You stared at his reply, your heart sinking even further. The words didn't make sense, not at all. Date? What date? The realization crashed over you, an emotional tidal wave that made your head spin. You flung your phone onto your bed, letting out a muffled scream into your pillow, your nails digging deep into the fabric as rage, betrayal, and frustration surged through you. Allison had done it. She had somehow stolen your account, your identity, and now, it seemed, she was trying to steal everything else too.

As the echoes of your scream faded into the stillness of your room, you pulled yourself up and grabbed your phone again. The silence around you was stifling, heavy with the weight of everything you’d just uncovered. You took a breath, your fingers trembling as they hovered over the keyboard.

"Solace, we are not dating."

The reply came quickly.

"What do you mean, we are not? We had so many dates already, Ally. You want me to actually officially ask you out? Let me prepare at least, cutie."

He didn’t get it. He didn’t catch the weight of your words at all.

You hesitated for a moment, then typed, "Solace, I am not Ally. It's me. Your roommate."* You added your name for clarity.

And then... silence. Nothing. No response. No footsteps coming toward your door. Nothing at all.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hallway, Sebastian was staring at his screen in growing confusion. It’s you and not Allison? How? His thoughts raced, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to process. He quickly opened another chat, the one he’d been using with Allison for weeks, his fingers moving frantically across the keyboard.

"Babe, why is my roommate on your Discord?"

Miles away, Allison had just stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around her as she glanced at her phone. Her face paled, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Sebastian’s message. You sneaky little worm... she thought, fury bubbling inside her. You were trying to expose her, daring to unravel the web she’d so carefully woven. But Allison wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.

She quickly typed back, her fingers flying over the screen.

"Oh god. Seb, I didn’t want to tell you at first..."

“Your roommate is in love with you…they are actually stalking me now since I became your girlfriend and they are jealous. Seems like they even hacked my discord and pretended that they are me…What if they got my streaming account banned too?”

"I'm so sorry, Ally. I promise I'll get this sorted out. No matter what happens, you're my priority, and I support you."

Sebastian’s words echoed in his head, gnawing at him days later as the whole situation weighed heavily on his nerves. He hadn’t even had the chance to talk to you yet, having blocked your Discord account per Allison's suggestion. She'd convinced him it was safer that way until she could switch out her email and password.

Sitting in Painter’s little tech shop, Sebastian sipped on his cup of instant coffee, his mind swirling. "Man, you look horrible," Painter, his friend and confidant, remarked from across the counter. Painter’s small shop was filled with parts and gadgets, tech stuff scattered everywhere, but today it felt heavier with the weight of Sebastian’s troubles.

“It all makes sense now, Painter. The movie nights, Chinese takeout days, working together...Meeting them in the Sushi Bar even. God, I was so blind." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair before pulling out his phone and sliding it over to his friend. Painter picked it up, scrolling through the chat history and screenshots Sebastian had saved before blocking you.

As he scrolled, Painter’s brow furrowed. Something wasn’t sitting right. His fingers moved faster across the screen, pulling up messages and logs, all while Sebastian sat there, completely spaced out. Painter and Sebastian had a close bond, and having his friend type on his phone wasn’t unusual. In fact, they often shared stuff like this.

"I'm sorry, man. This really sounds tough," Painter mumbled, his voice distant as he dug deeper into the details. Secretly, Painter unblocked your Discord, his technical expertise kicking into high gear. After a few moments, he managed to pull up something that made him pause: the IP address.

He cross-checked it with the logs and Sebastian's own information. It was the same IP. How could that be? Painter’s mind raced. If this account really belonged to Allison, there was no way it would have the same IP as Sebastian’s unless…

Painter’s heart sank as the realization hit. The only possibility was that the account was yours. You had been telling the truth all along.

[chiscaralight]

Could u write something similar to the thing u did with scaramouche where he’s praising us while fucking us into oblivion but instead of scaramouche it’s xiao? If you don’t write for him that’s totally okay :D

taking a break from cleaning up to write this bc i miss xiao sm😞 hyv bring him back please. nsfw xiao x reader. established relationship, choking, cockwarming, it’s kinda short but it’s super cute to me! basic nsfw tags, hope u like it! and sorry to the other requests i skipped, once i saw xiao i just had to hop on it 💔

he’s so close to you. so so close. your knees are bent up, pushed far apart curtesy of your boyfriends strong grip. his breath is fanning against your face and you’re trying so hard to stay with him here. but he’s pounding into you with a force that even he didn’t know he could.

“ah, you're so pretty..”

his voice is low. you would have teased him, he usually shys away and from talking when he fucks you. but your mind can barely comprehend the word coming from his mouth. the only thing you can understand is each heavy thrust he’s using to lay waste to you with, and how your clit is bumping against his public bone.

its nasty the way he's fucking into you, but the words dancing off his lips with each passing second are a stark difference in his actions. he lets one of his hands free to firmly wrap around your neck, and you swear you can see stars. the blood is pumping fast in your ears and down between your legs, but your heart is thumping extra hard because of the way he claims you. he’s calling you his. his to own, his to love.

with whatever strength you have left, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck to pull his lips against yours. the kiss is sloppy, teeth clashing and filled with scattered moans from the both of you, but it only fills you with more love. he hooks his arms round your shoulders as he fucks the last of his orgasm into you, lips trickling from yours to the side of your face, down to your neck.

the soft bite he sinks into you is the final push you need as you cum around him. your whole body is shaking, and it takes the air right out of your lungs. but he’s there to hold you and rub those reassuring circles into your side until you’re fully relaxed into the bed.

he doesn’t pull out. just turns the two of you on your sides so he can pull your leg over his. being this close to you is such a blessing he’ll never take for granted. your eyes shut along time ago, but he’s still staring at your sleeping face for as long as he can remember.

his fingers softly cup your relaxed cheek, thumb grazing over and over. you unconsciously lean into the warmth and he smiles. even though you’re asleep, you still manage to catch the ‘i love you’ that he whispers.

[yuyu1024]

Escape

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.8k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: continuation of Prisoner.

I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.

(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)

***

Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.

Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.

At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.

But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.

"Excuse me?"

You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.

"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.

"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks

"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest

She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."

You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.

"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."

"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."

"It's fine. I understand."

She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.

"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."

As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.

You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.

You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.

Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.

"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past

"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."

She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."

Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.

'Is she an ex of his?'

'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'

I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.

Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.

"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.

"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"

You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.

You turn around immediately before she could response again.

This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.

You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.

You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.

You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.

"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.

"How... do you know who I am?"

He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass

"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"

He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."

"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"

"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"

You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.

He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.

1. Don't cut your hair short

2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him

3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard

4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)

5. Use the safeword during sex

And etc.

The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.

"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.

After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.

As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.

Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?

These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.

They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.

Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?

Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.

"What are you doing here?"

Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.

He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.

You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?

"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up

"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.

"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.

"You know... you can't drink."

"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly

"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."

Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.

Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.

"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds

Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.

Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.

"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.

That was it?

"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.

"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.

Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.

"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him

***

"Get in." He orders you

Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.

"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.

"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.

We are now isolated.

He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.

"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say

He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."

Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?

Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.

This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.

"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."

"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."

He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.

"Wait..."

He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.

"I'm sorry..."

"What for?" He asks

"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper

Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.

"He might hear us..." you whisper

"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.

***

After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.

"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."

They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.

"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.

Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.

"Y/n..."

You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.

"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"

"Why?"

He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.

"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.

Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.

Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.

"Aren't you getting in?"

You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.

"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.

After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.

Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders

"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.

"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."

"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.

'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.

"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes

You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.

*pings*

The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.

"Where are you going?" He asks

"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."

"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.

"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.

"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.

"W-what? Why?"

He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.

"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.

"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"

Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."

***

[Flashback to Yoongi's side]

(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)

Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.

However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.

"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.

"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.

"I see."

One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.

"Look who's here."

"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.

"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"

"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.

"It is, Sir. By--"

"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."

"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."

She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.

"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."

You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.

"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."

You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.

You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.

Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.

"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."

[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]

*************

"Miss..."

Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.

"Miss..."

You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.

"It's noon Miss..."

"Oh."

It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.

You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.

"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."

"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble

"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.

"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."

"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.

"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave

"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."

"Sure."

You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.

What happened? You don't know.

The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.

Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.

When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.

And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.

"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.

"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.

"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged

He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.

"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"

"Y-yes..."

"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."

"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.

His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.

"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.

You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.

"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.

And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.

It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.

And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.

You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.

"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.

You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.

"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"

You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?

After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.

How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.

"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."

*********

"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.

Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.

"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.

"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie

All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.

"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."

Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"

"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."

"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.

"Twenty."

"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."

"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.

"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."

He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.

"Understood." The man replies

"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks

"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.

"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.

"Nothing, Sir."

"Just spit it out."

The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice

And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.

"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."

"So? What's your point?"

"It's just lately...."

Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.

"What are you implying? Just... say it."

Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."

"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.

*****

"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.

To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.

You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.

"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"

You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer

"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.

"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."

She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.

You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.

It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.

"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.

"The middle one." You says.

You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.

"Ahm, Miss...?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"

"Hmm... what did he say?"

"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."

"Did he say if he wants to see me?"

The maid didn't answer.

"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."

"Understood." She bows and exists the room.

"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."

Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.

"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."

Part 3 - Twilight

[wonderlandwalker]

Remember | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: The capitol has taken you from him, but he won't let them keep you. You can find pt. 2 here!

Content Warnings/Tags: Violence, bullet wounds, major character injury, blood, needles, angst, fluff, no use of y/n

Word Count: 4.0k

Requested by Anon: omg I love your writing and I have an unhealthy addiction to reading angst so could you please write something about the reader being with peeta and Johanna when they where taken by the capital and her being with finnick and recovering while she’s in district 13? 🫶🫶

A/N: The way I smiled when I saw this request I swear. This one has been in the works for a little while and I thought it fit perfectly. It is angst you ask for and it is angst you shall get. I'm considering writing a part two but I'm not sure how to yet. My bad habit of not proofreading happened again and with this one especially it was way too long so if I made any major errors pls do let me know.

The Capitol.

You are currently in the Capitol.

At least that’s where you think you are. You remember being in the arena, you remember running towards the general direction you last saw Finnick, remembering the marks you had gone by in case you had to take a different route. You remember seeing Finnick's face through the plantation, you’d be able to recall those features anywhere. You remember something hitting you from behind and falling to the ground, too caught up in catching up with him to check your surroundings. You remember crying out in pain, hoping he’d hear you. But the next thing you remember is the vision of him slowly going out of focus and losing consciousness not long after. 

At least that's what you think happened.

At least you can still remember, that’s worth something right? You remember your past, and you remember the reaping that led to the arena. The flood of relief that went over you as you finally found your way back to him. You don’t know what happened to Finnick, he was there too after all, but you had needed to split up early. Maybe he had been caught off guard too. Maybe he escaped. Maybe they never even found him. Maybe with him being the idiot he could be, he was probably already on his way here, looking for you. Just like you would have done for him, and he would have called you an idiot then too.

You would get out of here one way or another, that much you knew, but you needed to remember more, you needed to remember the last look on his face, you hadn't had much time to take it in, but you remembered the furrow of his eyebrows, the same expression he always had when he was trying to concentrate, you needed to remember that.

You knew that once you did get out of here, Finnick would be furious, telling you that you had been reckless, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, shortly after telling you how worried he had been. And it would feel like coming home.

Your mind becomes hazier, and it is harder to remember. You feel your head throbbing, and you move your hand towards it until you feel it can move no further. You open your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light that covers the room. You can't see much, can't move your head much.

You remember the rendezvous point you had talked about. You remember the quick “don't get yourself in trouble” and the kiss he gave you right before you parted ways.

You remember the layers of plants and trees you moved through, seeing some of them cut down, letting you know someone else had been there

But you know there is more, more that you missed. The stomped-out ashes that you ran past, you know you should have paid closer attention. But you can’t remember

You need to remember what happened. How you got here. Who got you here. If you really are in the capitol. But your mind doesn't want to cooperate anymore. The room is getting darker and darker, even though the lamp above your head is still dutifully buzzing

You wake up, you still remember where you are, or at least where you think you are. You still remember yesterday, was it yesterday? Why couldn't they just hang a clock in here? 

You look up, and you see a device set up, not too far from where you're lying down. You try to get a better look but the light above your head is too blinding to see anything else in the room. You don’t fully understand it until a man walks into the room with a video camera in his hand and an expression on his face that seems just a tad too happy. 

The camera starts blinking a red light, signalling you that it has started recording. The man has a sort of laser that he presses into your lower stomach, it doesn't breach your skin but it hurts like it does. It takes all your energy not to show him the satisfaction of it.

“Come on now darling, work with me a little.” He says after a while, changing the setting on the laser. The last bit of your energy is gone, and you can't keep the screaming from escaping any longer. It echoes off the white walls around you and when you hear yourself, you barely even recognize it. He seems satisfied with the result and finally puts the laser down. You look down but don't see any burn marks or indication of what has just happened.

He comes closer and you can see he is holding a sort of crowbar, but you're not sure why. You remember how you always left one outside your window in the districts, in case the wind had shut it and you needed to sneak back in. You remember Finnick finding out, giving you a serious, disappointed look, but not telling you to stop.

Before you can think of anything else, the bar hits you with full force, right above the spot he was previously focused on. You didn't expect it, and it knocks the little breath you had left out of your lungs. He hits again, not in the same spot, but close, he is very clearly aiming for your ribs. The switching between high-tech and old-school weapons has you puzzled, but you can't deny the result either of them has.

After a while, he stops, and with the added difficulty and pain that now comes with breathing, you are more than certain he just bruised a few of your ribs.

He walks back, taking the camera in his hands. He aims it at your face and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself as much as your current state allows. Your hair is a tangled mess and you are rather certain there is blood smushed over your face from the cuts you got in the arena. 

“Smile for the camera sweetheart.” He asks, even though it sounds more like an order than a request. You open your eyes to look at him. He is so close, and you want to drive your thumbs so far into his eye sockets you can feel the front lobe of his brain, if he even has one. But you can't do anything, no matter how much you want to fight, you are powerless here. You close your eyes again, trying to block everything out and remember.

You remember District Four, the way the light summer breeze would always carry the smell of the beach to your house, no matter how hard you had it, it always livened you up. You remember the first time Finnick tried to teach you how to surf, being so gentle with you no matter how many times you fell off it, always there to catch you again. You remember your last birthday, well, the day after, but you couldn't even complain about that. He had picked you up from your place and brought you to one of the lakes with him. He told you the story of one of his birthdays when he was younger, along with all the embarrassing details, but of course, it only endeared him further to you. You told him about the presents you got and all the people who came to wish you a happy birthday. You told him everything you could remember. You remember last seeing his face, maybe it was the last time you will have ever seen it. No. No, you remember it, but you’ll see it again, you have to.

“I’ll make sure your loverboy gets to see this, wherever he is, wouldn't want him to miss out on the fun.” 

Finn. Finnick. You remember Finnick. You remember when you returned from your first games. The black eye and broken arm you came home with. You remember how he lost it when they didn't immediately treat you for it. He would now either throw a fit over it for everyone to see or be so stoic in his thoughts even Johanna would get a little concerned.

You see the man standing up, walking to the table, and picking up something new. A syringe, it's a syringe. He walks over and pushes it into your upper arm, and before you know it, your vision turns black again.

You remember waking up to gunshots, and you panic. But after a few seconds, you figure out they’re not near you. There is, however, someone in the room with you, it's the same man again. He looks a little panicked, but you can’t figure out why just yet. The gunshots are becoming louder, and closer, and he seems more startled now. His arms drop to his sides from what he was doing and his eyes widen. Screams are echoing and you can hear footsteps.

You remember that pattern of paddling feet, and you recognize the second pair of steps too, but you can't remember much else.

The man gets closer to you, placing his hand over your mouth, pulling out a gun with his free hand and telling you to stay quiet. You never understood why people say that, it means he has something to lose, and you want to scream out, but your voice doesn't remember how to.

It's even closer now, right outside the door, and you can hear talking. You remember his voice. How he always asked you so sweetly how your day had been, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you fell asleep. 

You hear the door jiggle, and it makes you want to scream out for him, but your sore throat won't let you. For a moment you think that is it, you had your chance, and you let it go by. He’ll move along the hallway to the other doors and leave you here. But then you hear another gunshot, and they must have shot the lock, because right after you hear someone running into the door with an echoing thump as it breaks open. 

The man next to you had his gun pointed at the door, and he changes it to point at you instead. 

You were right, by the gods you had never been so thankful to have been right. Finnick walks in, and you can see the colour drain from his face as he does so. 

The man standing next to you is starting to get nervous, you can see the sweat starting to drip down his face. He must realize he has been matched, because there are more people by Finnicks side. But the man still has his gun pointed at you, and this isn't over just yet.

You can't keep your eyes open anymore, and when you close them, you remember. You remember your first kiss with Finnick, how nervous he had been at the time. He had been shaking a little and told you he was embarrassed by how much you got to him, but it only endeared him further to you.  He yells at the man to let go of the gun, he sounds nervous again.

But he doesn't let go, he decides to shoot. 

You hear the bullet leaving the gun, and for a single moment, you think it's over. The last thing you’ll ever see is Finnick, but he’s not himself. He’s upset, and even though you know he’s not upset with you, it still tugs at you. Except when you feel the bullet piercing through your skin, that's exactly what you realise. You can still feel it. He didn't shoot you right in the heart, he didn't shoot towards your head, he shot you in the abdomen. You’re not sure why, not sure why he didn't kill you, but you will never know, because not even a second passes as you hear a second gunshot, and he falls to the floor.

You can't seem to remember how to open your eyes, but you can hear Finnick rushing over and right as he reaches you, you fall. You fall into his arms and the memory of it gives you hope. Something comes in contact with your stomach, and the agony of it makes you want to scream out. You can feel him lifting you, and the shift of your body makes the bullet move, making you want to scream again. And if you remembered how to, you would have.

You know he’s talking to someone, but it sounds more like buzzing to you. You can only make out certain parts of the conversation, something about needing to leave, something about infections, and something about an aircraft. 

You can hear him talking again, and this time it’s directed at you. There’s a strain in his voice, and it sounds like he’s crying. It makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t remember how to.

“Please darling, just open your eyes."

But you’re afraid, youre afraid that if you open them, everything will turn out to be nothing but a dream, and he won’t be here anymore. But even if this is a dream, you need to see him. Even if it will turn into a haunted memory, you need to see his eyes looking back at you. It takes you some effort, but you open your eyes, looking at him. You can see tears flooding his face, you can see his lips moving, silent pleas coming from them for you to stay awake. He’s telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he's telling you to hold on. He promises that he won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again and that he won’t let go of you anymore.

You remember how he cried when you were reaped for the 75th games, and how you had told him everything would be okay, how you had comforted him, but you don't have the energy to comfort him this time. You remember hearing his sobbing, his shaking voice when you close your eyes again, not being able to keep them open any longer, even if you wanted to.

You wake up again, and for a moment you think it had indeed all been a dream, that you were right back where you had started, But then you remember the bullet in your stomach. You look down and see a bandage over it, even though it’s already soaked in blood. They must have taken it out. 

You try and concentrate, and you can hear Finnick talking to someone. “Just tell me, I know it’s bad but I need to know.” “Finnick, it won’t make a difference.” The person he’s talking to sounds desperate, and you remember how stubborn he could be when it came to you. 

But you don’t remember more, because your head starts to feel light again and you give in to the feeling.

When you wake up again, you manage to open your eyes, and you can see someone sitting in a chair next to the bed you're in. He’s slumped over, his face half pressed into the mattress and half into your stomach, both of his hands are holding onto one of yours. It hurts a little, but you don't mind, because it reminds you, even when you look away, that he is still there. You remember the way he always softly snores, and the way he wiggles his nose when your hair falls over it.

You think you're connected to a monitor, because something is beeping in the same rhythm you can feel your heart beating, and it gives you a headache. So you close your eyes again, and once again, you give in to the feeling of sleep that looms over you.

Since you had been brought to District 13, he has barely left your side. He keeps putting cold washcloths on your forehead to try and break your fever. It won't help, and he knows it, but no one has the heart to stop him. 

You haven't shown a single sign of life since they had found you. It was unsettling, the silence that filled the room, none of your usual laughter and banter there to replace it. 

It’s only when Finnick's head shoots up that the others notice it as well. The steady beeping that has been imposing the silence in this room for weeks picking up its pace. The beating continues to go faster and faster, your body shaking up from the bed in almost the same rhythm. But right before anyone can do anything about it, it stops. It all seems to stop, you stop moving, and the monitor stops beating.

He starts giving you chest compressions, and someone rushes into the room holding a small bottle, they fill a syringe with the clear liquid and inject it into your arm. Within a few seconds, your heart starts beating again. But it’s only after a minute of the monitor showing him a steady heartrate that he stops his actions.

It’s dark in the room when Finnick wakes up, and if it wasn't for the soft light and the beeping of the monitor, he would've thought he was dreaming, but it seems the reality won’t let him escape. He struggles not to fall back asleep, and every few minutes he does, but every time he wakes up startled again, scared that you’ll be gone if he doesn't open his eyes every once in a while. It was easy to see the toll it had taken on him. His posture was slouched, his face less well-groomed than usual. But no one could blame him, because they could see the way he looked at you, as if you were the sun and your dimmed light turned his world dark. 

He knows the chance you can hear him is small, but he feels the urge to talk to you nonetheless. 

“I don't think I can hold this in any longer. I remember some studies that have shown people in comas do hear what's going on around them, but maybe it’s for the best that you don’t, because you would never say yes.”

He continues but he feels his voice choke up, and he runs a hand through your hair to calm himself down, his other hand still holding onto yours.

“We talked about it once, I still remember every single word you said. You came at me with all your logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. But what you never understood is that when it comes to you, I'm not able to think rationally, because my love for you will overpower anything else.” He chuckles softly as he recalls the memory he’s about to tell you next.

“I remember when I opened up to you for the first time. I had always held things to myself, but you were so calm as I talked to you. I thought for sure I had screwed it up somehow then. Everyone always tells me now how happy you make me, and they're right. Ever since you came into my life there has not been a single moment when the thought of you did not bring me joy, even when we fought my memories of you could still somehow bring a smile to my face. 

I remember when they showed me the video, they hadn't wanted me to see it, but you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to you. I saw you, I saw the way in which they were hurting you. And I started yelling, ironically enough in that moment, you were the only one that could have calmed me down. I remember yelling at them, fighting with them not to wait any longer, that they couldn't let you wait any longer, they had to have me sedating until they came to a conclusion."

He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, taking a small ring. It was his mother's ring, he had found it a while back and had carried it with him ever since. He had thought of moments to give it to you, but every time there was one, every time he was about to ask you, something had happened, something had interrupted him. But there was no one interrupting him this time. “I have thought about asking you this every time I see you, and I can't hold it in any longer. So when you wake up, not if you wake up, because I know you will. I know you will wake up because you have to. So when you wake up, will you marry me.” A little part of him had thought you'd wake up, that you’d answer him. Even if you said no, it would still be better than what's happening right now, because he didn't care if you'd say no, if you’d say you weren't ready, because nothing could be worse than the silence that followed him. And so he slid the ring onto your finger delicately, as if you were to disappear if he wasn't careful. He put the ring on your hand because he knew that even if it wasn't today, and it wasn't tomorrow, someday you would marry him, and he wouldn't let you slip away.

At first, he thought he was imagining it, sleep deprivation and desperation playing a trick on his mind. But then he saw it again, in the beams of morning light he could see your hand moving, as if it was trying to grasp onto something, trying to pull you back into this world. It woke him up in an instant. But it was all followed so fast, the way your eyes slowly opened, squinting at the light. Before you had even awoken for a second, he moved from where he had been right beside you in order to hug you. And he was about to get lost in the thought of your moving lips, tears falling down his eyes, about to get lost in a kiss full of built-up pain and desperation when he noticed, something was wrong. Your eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of your mouth turned down just a little. He looked at your expression, your body language, something was wrong. You looked vulnerable, you looked like you wanted to protect yourself from someone.

It was only when he looked into your eyes that he truly understood something was very wrong.

Your eyes looked as if you were in pain, but it wasn't a look of any physical pain, it looked as if something was endangering you, but he couldn't understand what it was. He slowly moved so as not to startle you and asked you “Darling, what’s wrong” And at first you didn’t respond, but when he kept looking at you, expecting him to answer you, you started to speak. “Am I supposed to remember you?” 

He immediately flinched back at the statement, his shoulder sunk and his eyes dimmed. Someone told him it wasn't uncommon for brain injuries to cause short-term memory loss after a coma.

So slowly, and surely, he made it work. But it was crumbling him down every time you didn't remember the unconscious acts of affection, so foreign to you now. A quick touch on your arm as he walked towards you made you flinch slightly as if his hand had been on fire. The subtle smiles he gave you when entering a room were now met with you looking down. The way that even though you were physically here, you really weren't. 

He promised himself, he vowed to himself that he would make you remember. That no matter how long it took, he would wait for you. He would wait for you to remember, make you remember. Because he had very quickly learned that he couldn’t live without you anymore.

Part 2: Trying to Forget

[safination]

Smell of Rain Through the Window Pane

|Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Pairing: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: angst. demon! Alastor. AFAB! Reader Summary: Acid drips off his umbrella and lands on the ground as he walks. You always seem to forget your umbrellas. Always. In life and in death, not once have you ever remembered to bring an umbrella. Did you forget your umbrella today as well? There’s a selfish part of him that hopes you do. Because that would mean you’re still not used to bringing your own umbrella. It means you’re still hoping and trusting that Alastor would be there with a smile and an umbrella in his hand. There are very few truths that Alastor allows himself to realize when it comes to you. If he digs those emotions out…well, he doesn’t think he would ever want to stop. It would be an insanity caused by you and you alone. TLDR:  Acid rain stings, and destroys everything it touches. Still, Alastor decides that it’s a good day for a walk, because fate made him your husband. So, surely fate would find a way for him to hand you this umbrella, because you always seem to forget to bring one. Alastor will find a way to hand you an umbrella, even with the deal preventing you from seeing him. Word Count: 2.6k This is a little spin-off from my sheries: Partners in Death...and Life, but it can totally stand on its own. You don't really need to read the series to understand this. But to those who do, this is just a short one-shot I made to further develop some stuff that I won't really be fully able to explain in the main series. Again, you don't need to read the series to understand. So please read it :DD

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The clouds part, giving way to acid rain.

It’s been two years since Alastor last walked through the streets of Pentagram City. That means it’s been two years since Alastor left his wife with a vague note, and a shitty apology.

The rain corrodes the weaker structure around him. There’s a blood puddle that begins to wash away as acid mixes into it, sizzling the weak concrete below it.

Alastor summons an umbrella, and steps over puddles of piss and blood. Sinners begin to scamper away as the acid begins to burn their skin. A small laugh escapes him. It fizzles when he realizes that you would have laughed as well.

Alastor walks, and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks. It’s supposed to clear his mind—it doesn’t work.

He’s careful to keep himself hidden inside the shadows, and far, far, away from any watchful eyes or cameras. Today isn’t the day to announce his return. Not yet, at least. There will be a time and a place, and this is neither the time nor the place.

Alastor doesn’t walk anywhere near St. An’s. Actually…he just doesn’t head anywhere near your general direction. Still, he offers a small plea to whatever being that fated him to marry you to somehow make it so that he could see you.

Acid drips off his umbrella and lands on the ground as he walks.

You always seem to forget your umbrellas. Always. In life and in death, not once have you ever remembered to bring an umbrella. Did you forget your umbrella today as well?

There’s a selfish part of him that hopes you do. Because that would mean you’re still not used to bringing your own umbrella. It means you’re still hoping and trusting that Alastor would be there with a smile and an umbrella in his hand.

There are very few truths that Alastor allows himself to realize when it comes to you. If he digs those emotions out…well, he doesn’t think he would ever want to stop. It would be an insanity caused by you and you alone.

Here’s one truth: It would kill him in more ways than one to see you with an umbrella.

It means you’ve accepted the fact that he left you. That leaving you is something he’s capable of doing. It means you’ve gotten used to thinking about having an umbrella.

The acid would sting less than the sight of you with an umbrella.

Alastor calls you ridiculous.

You call him silly.

And you are correct. He’s a silly, silly, husband. It’s that greedy part of him that wants you to keep on forgetting. Alastor needs you to keep on taking the small thing for granted. It means you still trust him to carry the mental burdens for you. It means that you know he will always be there to make sure you stay dry amidst the pouring rain.

How unfair of you to hold the ability to torture him with a simple umbrella.

Alastor walks and he walks and he walks, even if it doesn’t clear his head of you. It does the opposite. Every little drop makes him wonder if you’re staying dry. Every little splash of the rain makes him wonder if you’re enjoying a warm cup on this rainy day.

Alastor rounds the corner and smooth pavements replace pot holes. Wet leaves replace scattered carcasses. Wilted plants replace the asphalt roads. Trees replace the building, and their leaves blow all around him, sizzling away with every drop of acid.

And oh…oh…

There you are, still as beautiful as the day he first laid his eyes on you. You’re in a gazebo, a bored look on your face as you wait for the rain to cease.

Two years….Two years of torture. Two years since he’s caught a glimpse of you.

You place a hand over your eyes, settling on the gazebo’s bench. Are you really planning on taking a nap here? Anyone can take advantage of you here.

Alastor stays frozen between the park gates until you’ve fully settled into the bench. He knows when you’ve fallen asleep. How could he not? It’s in the way your breath evens out and it’s in the way your shoulders drop.

Nothing prevents him from taking a step. So, he takes another. Step after step, one foot in front of the other, until he’s in front of the gazebo entrance.

He takes a seat on the steps instead, turning his back to you with the umbrella hiding his body. Alastor will let you sleep for now, especially when exhaustion settles heavily on your shoulders. He wants to turn, to grasp a better look at you. Alastor cannot. If he does, he might never be able to leave again.

The rain pours around you and him. It creates this small bubble that houses this moment. Alastor would have to pop it, eventually. But it doesn’t have to be now. He just needs a moment here with you. Just a moment. That’s all he needs.

Alastor shouldn’t turn to face you, but he does so anyway. He turns to you for the very same reason Orpheus turns around to look at Eurydice.

“I know you have your questions,” Alastor says, leaning on the wooden railing. He’s staring at you. “You’re probably furious with me as well.”

The strength of the rain muffles his words. Your breath is low and even as you take your nap. That’s fine. He can’t have you waking up.

“This deal I made…,” he says, voice low. “A portion of it prevents you from seeing me. It’s such carefully constructed words. It means that you aren’t allowed to see me and I’m not allowed to seek you out.  I phrased it in a way that allows me to see you in the context of a coincidence.”

It’s such a careful loophole that Alastor decided to place. There are so many other loopholes that he could have placed, but all of them—each and every single loophole—pertained to you. How absolutely silly of him. 

Alastor could have placed a loophole to loosen his leash, or one that could potentially grant him freedom. It all happened too fast. There was no time to think, so he defaulted to the only thing in his mind—his wife. It was like instincts took over.

What does that say about him? Alastor could endure a leash, but he couldn’t endure anything that threatens you?

Alastor realizes just how selfish this loophole really is. You aren’t allowed to see him, but he can see you.

He takes a bit of your feathers, letting it flow between his fingers. “The deal didn’t even involve you,” he says. “But even when it isn’t about you, it still seems to be about you.”

His nails dig into his palms. It keeps himself grounded and prevents himself from touching you, from reaching out even more. There’s another umbrella in his hands, and Alastor doesn’t even know when he summoned it. He places it next to you.

“There are more loopholes to my deal,” he tells you, even if he knows you cannot hear him. “It’s not time yet. I just need a bit more time, but I placed them there in carefully constructed phrases and hidden words. You will be able to see me again. I promise you that.”

Alastor pops the bubble by walking away.

He stays far enough to keep his distance, but close enough to keep an eye on your safety. It takes another few minutes for you to awaken. Alastor sees your form from where he hides between the trees, and how absolutely ridiculous that is. He is your husband. Alastor shouldn’t be hiding at all.

You take the umbrella, and step out into the rain with a smile.

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Alastor spotted clouds forming over Pentagram City, and decided it was a good day for a walk.

There’s an umbrella around his hand as he determines to aimlessly walk around the cool city night. Alastor sticks to the shadows in case those pesky cameras catch a glimpse of him.

He’s walking across the streets of the seedier parts of the city. Piss and feces stain the walls and blood paints the ground. There’s no reason for you to be here, not when you should be at home or still at work. Alastor tells himself that he doesn’t want to see you. It’s why he’s here. Still, he walks and he walks and he holds out hope anyway.

Music catches his ears, causing them to flicker. It emanates from Mimzy’s club. The door to the alley slam open as two figures step out into the cold night.

“Go home before it rains,” Mimzy says, and Alastor knows it's her because he could recognize her voice anywhere. “I’m not going to deal with you becoming all mopey over the rain.”

Another voice speaks out, and it’s one that Alastor knows on an intimate level. He knows that voice even more than Mimzy’s.

“I’m never doing this again,” you say, weakly. “I swear, I’m never doing this—”

Puke hurls out your guts and spills across the already dirty alley.

Alastor presses himself by the entrance of the ally. He keeps far away from your sight, but peeks out just enough to see you.

Mimzy rubs your back as spit out whatever’s left from your puke. “You said that the last three times,” she tells you. “Look, I’m all good for some party time and getting high but you’re just drinking your problems away and there’s already enough of those losers inside. There’s no fun in that! That deer of yours would surely cause a hissy fit.”

Your laughter echoes around the alley before the sound is replaced by your puking.

“He certainly would,” you say and wipe the corners of your mouth. “I can practically see it.”

“Why don’t you just leave? It’s been four years, sweetheart,” Mimzy says, and Alastor’s jaw tightens at her words. “I love the guy as well, but you need to start thinking about yourself. I’m still in my prime, ya’know. Got enough youth to help you move your stuff.”

“Can’t,” you mumble.

Mimzy snorts and takes out a pack of cigarettes. She flickers the lighter, taking a puff once it’s lit. The cigar gets offered. “You made a deal or something?”

“A vow, actually,” you say, refusing the smoke with a wave of your hand. “Those things will kill you.”

“Already dead, sweetheart,” Mimzy says, taking another puff. “Then what? You sold your soul to him?”

“There was no point in making a deal for my soul.” You press your hand on the wall, heaving a little. Nothing comes out. “We have our vows.”

Mimzy blows smoke to your face. “That he’s currently breaking.”

“Thank you for inviting me out,” you say, waving the smoke out of your face. “I always have fun with you.”

“You don’t actually think that,” she says, pointing her cigar.

“Why do I keep hearing that?” you mumble, running a hand through your feathers. “I actually did have fun with you.”

“Well, it’s hard to believe when I know this world could split in half, and you wouldn’t give two shits about it.”

You take the cigar from her fingers, and inhale the smoke. A cough escapes you as the smoke irritates your throat. “I do care,” you say, trying to take another puff. “I don’t understand why you enjoy this.”

Mimzy takes the cigar back from you and blows smoke to your face once more. “There are very few things you bother yourself to care about,” she says. “And I’m not one of them.”

“That’s only because fire seems to follow you around,” you tell her, smiling. “It took forever to re-grow my feathers.”

Puke comes out from your mouth once more. You couch the remains out before hurling once more. Mimzy rubs your back when it should be Alastor who does so.

“Stay here. Shout if anything happens,” Mimzy says, killing the light of her cigar with her foot. “I’ll get you some water, and help ya get home. But you owe me.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Alastor’s smile widens into a snarl as he curls deeper into the shadows.

Mimzy bats an eye to you. “Don’t tempt me, missy.”

The door shuts with a loud bang as Mimzy steps back into her club. You place your hand on the wall, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. How much did you drink?

“Hello,” you call out. “I can hear you.”

Alastor keeps himself at the entrance of the alley, hidden by the shadows. He doesn’t answer you.

“I really am never doing this again,” you say. “I said that the last three times but I’m here again. My husband would kill me.”

There are quite a number of things Alastor would like to say to you, but silence is the only reply he can stand to give.

“You seem pretty harmless,” you say. “And I’m kind of bored. Let’s have a chat, yeah? My friend will be back in a moment—Fuck! Are those clouds? Is it going to rain soon? Did you know my husband would be mad to hear such language out my mouth? Can’t help it…I really need to stop watching so much television. Rots the brain.”

You crumple to the floor and take a deep breath. Alastor presses his back on the wall, and it’s the sensation of the hard bricks that prevent him from stepping into the light.

“Need to go home soon.” You’re talking to him even when you don’t know it’s him at the end of the alley. Some portion of you hope you do know. “But it’s hard to go home right now…it’s all just empty, and I am absolutely never doing this again because why am I saying this to some random stranger?”

The clouds part, and acid rain begins to drizzle into the alley.

“I used to like the rain,” you mumble, leaning your head on the bricks. “Got married in the rain. Both times. Ha! That’s a funny coincidence, but I like to call it fate.”

These are words he isn’t meant to hear, but still, Alastor accepts the truth you are displaying. He tosses the umbrella when the rain begins to pour, and once again…Alastor walks away from you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The acid rain howls across the city. The strength of its fury floods certain areas of the city.

Yet, Alastor walks across the rain, even if his clothes dampen. There’s an extra umbrella in his hand as his feet bring him to St. An’s. You always forget your umbrella…Please…please forget again.

Maybe he could leave this in your office, or slip it into your bag. Alastor could hide in the shadows, but doing so means he loses the opportunity to see you. There’s no guarantee that you’re still in the building. Thus, Alastor isn’t breaking any deals.

So, he stays out in the pouring rain, even as the rain soaks his clothes, and waits for you to come out. It takes more than a moment for you to step out the automatic doors. (It took sixty whole minutes of acid rain dripping into his clothes.)

A stray Sinner follows after you. There’s an umbrella around his hand that he offers to you.

Faint static emanates from him. The noise is soft and muffled by the strength of the rain, but your head snaps out into the city. You look around as if you heard his static, as if you are always on the lookout for his sound.

The Sinner offers his umbrella once more. You shake your head, and take out your own umbrella. It’s a proper and sturdy one. Its design and color perfectly match your taste. It’s an umbrella that you prepared and thought to bring with you.

Alastor smiles at you, even if you couldn’t see him, and walks away. It seems he was correct…

But how is it possible for a simple umbrella to sting more than the acid rain?

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What do you guys think? I was the the mood for some angst lol. So here you go. The day I stop making a Ben&Ben reference is the day I die. Lifetime has me in a choke hold. Paninindigan kita? Even worse than a choke hold. It has a death grip on me and it's not even funny. Don't be shy tell me what you think. Come on now! I promise I don't bite. <3 I highly encourage you guys to check out Partners in Death...and Life if you enjoyed this oneshot

[general-fanfiction]

Hopes And Fears - Part Two. (Wally Clark x Reader.)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3.1k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Death

Part One.

A/N: It’s finally here!! I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am that has it has taken me over a year to get part two out. I’m sure most of you are probably over waiting for it anyway but if you do fancy giving it a read, I really appreciate it and hope it was worth the excessively long wait. I’ve tagged everybody that asked for a part two!! Once again, I am so deeply sorry! Please forgive me!!

“I would like to begin by thanking everybody that is here today and for those who have reached out to our family in this incredibly difficult time. Your thoughts and prayers have been so comforting and a reminder of the impact that our beautiful daughter had on so many people.

How would I even begin to describe Y/N? She was truly the most special girl and I am so thankful that I was able to bring her into this world, even if she did have to leave it early. The years I got to spend with her, were the best of my life and nothing will ever compare to the bond that her and I shared. She was so kind, so generous and so loving. Never declining the opportunity to spend time with her family, even if it may have been the embarrassing thing to do. I know what it’s like to be a teenager and for her to put us first consistently was just one of her many great qualities.

Y/N was an honour roll student, a successful gymnast and dancer, as well as being captain of the Split River Cheerleaders. As a child, she had so much energy, to the point where we didn’t know what to do with her. After enrolling her in dance classes for the first time, she fell in love with the sport, gymnastics and cheerleading followed and I remember being so nervous that she would injure herself. However, when she stared up at me with those gleaming eyes, I couldn’t bring it in myself to say no. These were just a few of her passions and it was evident that this was where she felt at home anytime we watched her at competitions or rehearsals. No longer the shy little girl that used to hide behind my legs before her first day of school.

Our daughter was also a keen activist and did a lot of charity work, though most of you probably wouldn’t know that. She volunteered at the animal shelter on our block every weekend, which led to her rescuing countless animals over the years. Leaving us with not only a dog but three cats, a ferret, five rabbits, countless chickens and four rats. She also ran at least one marathon a year in order to raise money for numerous charities, and often donated supplies and food to women’s shelters around the state.

Our daughter was the most selfless person I know, always putting other before herself. She taught us a lot and made us better people. For which I’ll be eternally grateful.

We wish we could’ve stopped this, and that we could’ve had more time with her. We wish we could’ve watched her grow and sent her off to college. We wish we could’ve moved her into her first apartment and seen her get married, maybe even had grandchildren.

The pain we are experiencing right now is unlike any other. To lose a child is the most gut wrenching thing, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I would give anything to hold her in my arms one last time. To be able to tell her I love her one last time.

So please, if anybody has any information as to who did this to our precious girl, all I ask is that you share this with the police department. Please help us find the person responsible and allow us some closure and for Y/N to get justice. She didn’t deserve this. Thank you.”

My mother cries as she steps away from the podium, collapsing into the arms of my father. Tears silently roll down my face as I take in the scene, the heartbreak across their faces as they hold each other. Unable to contain the grief they’re feeling.

As the principal speaks, I watch the crowd. My friends trying their best to hide their sadness, teachers hold their heads down, struggling to understand how this could’ve happened, even some students I only knew in passing look as though they could burst into tears at any moment.

It’s a difficult thing to watch, your own memorial. I suppose I never thought about how other would react to my death before, it never crosses your mind as you assume you won’t be able to witness it. God, what I would give to be that naive again.

“Hi Split River, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m Abby. Y/N was, well is my best friend. We met when we were in kindergarten and from that day forward we’ve been inseparable.

Y/N was a very shy person, I’m sure most of you would describe her as an introvert. Fortunately, I was one of the few people she let into her life, breaking down the invisible barriers she built around herself and it was the greatest pleasure of my life.

We were total opposites and enjoyed different things but that didn’t matter. For example, Y/N hated theatre, she called it glorified pantomime, but she still attended every show I was in, she still helped me practice my lines and she still encouraged me to do what I loved even if she couldn’t stand it.

We had so many things we wanted to do together, we were going to share a dorm together at Parsons, she would major in fashion design and I would do photography. We’d take over the world as a duo, running our own magazine that I could star in, of course. All those dreams of ours have been ripped to shreds now and I don’t know what to do without her. My life was intertwined with her’s and there was never a future that she wasn’t apart of. I’m completely lost without her.

I hope whoever did this rots in hell. You deserve nothing but suffering for taking such a pure soul out of this world.”

Abby’s words leave a small smile on my face despite the tears that continue to fall. In all honesty, I’m surprised her entire speech wasn’t a rage fuelled rant directed at the perpetrator.

Despite my eyes being fixed on the service taking place in the gym below, I still feel the bench dip slightly. Alerting me of someone’s presence. My eyes reluctantly drag themselves away and I realise it’s the footballer, he sits towards the other end of the bench, keeping his distance. I’m quick to notice the lack of football jersey, wearing nothing but a white tank top that defines his arms nicely and his blue school assigned gym shorts.

His hands are clutching a bouquet of flowers, an array of sunflowers, dusty orange irises, blood red snapdragons and soft peach chrysanthemums. They’re arranged beautifully, held together by a small piece of string.

“They were beautiful speeches.” He comments, soft smile gracing his features.

I nod, offering a small smile in return. The lack of football attire puts me at ease and I’m appreciative of the distance between us. Guilt consumes me slightly at my judgement towards him, but I can’t control it. After what happened, I don’t want to put myself in that situation again. I’m not taking any chances.

“This is the hard part. My mom couldn’t even finish her eulogy she was crying that much.” He tells me, eyes fixed on the girls from my cheerleading squad who are now doing their own speech. “It’s good to know you have so many people who care about you though.”

He doesn’t look over at me once he’s finished speaking and I take my time to look at him properly. Soft brown eyes compliment his dark, almost black hair. Full lips and a youthful glow, it dawns on me that he’s been stuck in this state for decades, never aging, never changing.

“I feel bad.” I state, voice barely louder than a whisper as I allow myself to make eye contact with him when he turns to face me. “They shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He goes to move towards me before stopping himself, though never taking his eyes off mine. “You can’t blame yourself, trust me I spent years doing that and no good comes of it. You’ll just end up tormenting yourself.”

Nodding as I take in his words, I let out a long sigh. Gazing down at my parents once again, I can’t help but feel the tears welling up in my eyes once again and I’m quick to wipe them away. Not wanting Wally to see me cry. They’re still clinging on to each other, though they’ve moved to sit down now, neither of them look as though they’re paying much attention to those speaking. Focused solely on comforting one another.

It’s in that moment that I notice who the next speaker is and my entire body tenses. Why is Spencer getting up to speak? He’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, hands gripping a piece of paper that has evidently been crumpled up. If my heart still worked I’m almost positive it would’ve stopped beating right this second.

Is this some sort of sick joke? Parading around in front of my grieving loved ones, knowing full well that he’s potentially evaded justice. I feel sick to my stomach and can’t bare to watch. What could he even have to say?

“Walk with me.”

Before Wally can even figure out what is happening, I’m practically sprinting out of the gym. Hurrying down the hallway in an effort to get as far away from Spencer as physically possible. It’s completely irrational, I know he can’t see me. He can’t hurt me again. Yet, I can’t even bring myself to stay in the same room as him.

“How did you die?” I ask Wally once he has caught up to me, walking beside me while making sure to keep a few feet between us. I’m in need of a distraction and as long as he’s talking, I can keep my mind off the situation that just unfolded before me.

“Oh, I um was tackled during the homecoming game of my senior year in ‘83. Snapped my neck and died on the pitch.” He tells me, one hand scratching the back of his neck as he does so, eyes unable to meet mine. “I’d already been benched but my mom pushed me to get back in the game and I just wanted to make her proud.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him properly. His face is full of guilt, and perhaps a little bit of shame. Afraid that he didn’t do his best, that he didn’t make his mom proud.

“She still comes to every game. I mean they named the stadium after me so it’s nice that I get to see her once a year. I’m lucky in that sense.”

He’s rambling, trying to fill the silence with anything he can. It’s something I often found myself down when I was still alive. Wanting to aid the embarrassment and nervousness I often felt.

“Wally. Your mom will always be proud of you. A mom’s pride for her child is unconditional.” I speak confidently, allowing him to feel reassured, something I can sense he needs right now.

“You’re right. I just wish things ended differently, like if I’d won the game, all those years of training wouldn’t have gone to waste you know?”

The sadness in his voice is prevalent and I can tell he struggles with it even after all these years. He’s still not making eye contact with me and I feel that pang of guilt once again, for assuming he would be like all the other stupid footballers I know. He has a good heart, I see that now.

“You heard my mom’s speech right? If we’re gonna play that game then all those years of dance training were for nothing.” I joke, hoping it’ll ease his sullen mood slightly. “I danced because it was fun, besides, if all of those years were for nothing, would I still be able to do this?”

For the first time since we left the gym, Wally actually looks at me. Raising my arms, I judge the distance behind me before throwing myself into a back handspring. The boy laughs quietly, causing me to smile as he brings his hands together in a round of applause, muffled slightly due to the flowers he’s still holding. Bowing obnoxiously, I can’t help but allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt this entire time and I intend to savour it.

“Wow. Yeah, you would not catch me doing that.” He comments, matching my pace as we continue to walk again. “Thank you, by the way.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not entirely sure where his thanks are coming from. Staying silent as we sit opposite one another in the communal gardens towards the back of the school. It’s quiet, not many students know it’s here, and the ones that do have no interest in being back here. They’d much rather be on the quad where they actually get phone service.

“For cheering me up, I mean. The others can sometimes get a bit annoyed when I bring up what happened. They think I should’ve got over it by now with it being almost forty odd years ago.” He states, the sunlight reflecting on him at just the right angle, it makes him look angelic. Beautiful really.

“Can anybody get over their death?”

“Rhonda seems to think so, but I reckon she just doesn’t like talking about what happened to her.” He replies, a fondness in his eyes as he talks about her, almost as if he’s remembering a past conversation.

Leaning back to take in the sun, I close my eyes, absorbing the light that hits my face. Being dead is strange to say the least, I thought I wouldn’t feel anything. No emotions, no sensations, nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Since death, I’ve mostly felt sadness and anger, but spending this short amount of time with Wally has made me aware of the happiness i’m able to feel as well. Not to mention the warmth of the sun on my skin, I can pretend I’m alive. Even if it is just for a second.

“These are for you by the way.” Wally’s voice bring me back to reality and I realise he’s holding the bouquet of flowers out to me. He’s sat a good distance away and so I have to lean forward to take them from his grasp. Fingers brushing as I do so and I’m quick to pull away, despite the warmth that rushed through my hand upon the momentary interaction. “I was going to give them to you earlier, but then it didn’t seem right because we were watching the eulogies and all. I didn’t wanna make it weird or awkward for you or anything. I also didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just picked a bunch from the flower gardens, Charlie helped me arrange them, I hope they’re okay because my first attempt wasn’t the best. Apparently the colours didn’t match or something-“

“Wally they’re gorgeous.” I interrupt, unable to hide the grin that is beginning to spread across my face as I bring them to my nose to inhale the scent. “Snapdragons are my favourite.”

“Oh thank god. I was really worried you would hate them, or that maybe you weren’t a flower person.” He blurts out, following a quick sigh of relief. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I mean no harm, and sort of welcome you the afterlife I guess.”

I must admit the nervous rambling is cute, I can feel the redness flushing my cheeks as I hide myself behind the flowers. Taking my time to admire the bouquet as much as I can. It’s a beautiful gesture, and I’m in disbelief that he spent the time to do this for me. A peace offering despite him doing nothing wrong.

“You’re sweet Wally.” I admit, delicately stroking the petals on a couple of the flowers. “I’m really sorry about before. You just remind me of someone.”

“A footballer ex perhaps?” He questions, unable to get Rhonda’s previous comment out of his head. Whether it be down to jealousy or curiosity he’s unsure.

“No, no ex.” I shake my head adamantly, eyes glued to the flowers as I try to come up with the words to describe why I acted the way I did. It’s still too soon for me to talk about, I know that. However, I also know that Wally does deserve some sort of explanation. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet, but if I have another moment like before I promise it’s not your fault.”

Wally nods, understanding and accepting my boundaries. We stay sat in silence for a moment longer, he doesn’t push me to talk, nor does he change the subject. Instead, we just embrace the peace we’ve created in the garden. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while and I’m able to sit with my own thoughts without sending myself into a spiral or a panic. It’s nice.

The minutes pass as we listen to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind. It feels as though we’re stuck in time, but I feel content. I wouldn’t mind being stuck right here, right now. At least, if it wasn’t for Charlie.

“Y/N, your memorial’s ending, just thought you’d want to see your parents again before they leave!”

Wally and I both look towards the boy who stands awkwardly in the doorway. He sounds out of breath and I imagine he’s been sprinting around the school in search of me.

My hands grip the flowers tighter, veins popping and knuckles flexed as I squeeze tightly. Wally’s the first to stand and when I finally look up at him, he offers me an encouraging nod. A reminder that I am strong enough to do this. To say my goodbyes.

While I walk besides the tall jock, with Charlie taking lead in front, I do feel strong. Wally’s supportive and comforting nature radiates through the hallway and I feel confident. Although, I know this is the last time I could potentially see my parents, there’s no sadness, just a readiness to take on this new stage of my life and it fills me with a sense of acceptance. Accepting death was difficult but finally, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

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[vampiric-hunger]

⊱─ 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕖 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, smut, improper use of charm spell (sorta), vampiric charming, dub-con I guess?, PiV, fingering, blood drinking, creampie, breeding kink, waiter there's a tiny bit of plot in my porn

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: only a stupid rogue would try to rob a suspected Vampire Lord but here you are, doing exactly that. well, right until you get caught with your greedy fingers picking a lock. surprisingly enough, Lord Astarion is not mad when he finds a thief in his chambers. how (un)fortunate you are that he thinks you're beautiful. and his punishment might yet become a reward instead.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,257

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Astarion breeding kink this, breeding kink that, well, here i am trying my own hand at it for the very first time ever. i don't know how good it is but i had fun writing it! this one shot started as something else, but well, here we are, being horny. enjoy! <3

p.s. in regards of "improper use of charm spell" tag - Astarion is using his vampiric charm on reader, she is completely under his control for most of the fic and thus i marked this as dubcon but she only truly consents towards the end of it. so if you're not into this type of thing click out.

You’re stupid, oh yes you are.

You suspected so even before you broke into the palace.

Like last night, when at the Blushing Mermaid your thieving buddies dared you to break into this grand home and steal an item two of them have been hired to steal. By whom? That never matters in your line of work. But you were drunk and too proud of your own skill in thievery. You boasted that you could do it the next night and so they dared you. You took their dare but when you woke up this morning you realized how badly this could end.

Breaking into the palace of a suspected Vampire Lord is something you never attempted nor have many others. But here you are now, attempting the stupidest heist of your life and only now you’re realizing just how stupid indeed you have been the night before and even more so tonight, for coming here, for breaking in and making it this far. Shit, you don’t even remember what consequences of failing this dare are anymore, you were too arrogant in your drunken haze and you might actually get killed.

So now you’re here, in a small, windowless, positively secret room, adjacent to Lord’s bedroom, your focus on the pedestal in front of you.

“A pretty little thing, aren’t you?” a smooth, almost silky voice comes from behind you and yet it feels like an assault.

You freeze, your fingers extended over a small metal chest that you were picking a lock of just a moment ago. You knew the risks coming here, or at least you hoped you did. And now it looks like you got caught in the act.

As you straighten your back and turn around you are met with crimson eyes, a toothy smirk and relaxed body language of a man who you came here to steal from. Astarion, the newest Lord of Baldur’s Gate, latest patriarch of Szarr palace, a charming man that you heard rumors about of being an actual vampire. Undesirable creatures tend to know of one another’s existence. Him – possibly a dangerous monster and you – a thief and a dagger for hire. For a moment you wonder what will happen if this confrontation comes to fighting. You doubt you could win. Even without confirmation of his possible immortality Lord Astarion has a certain aura about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You eye him slowly, carefully, examining smallest details. His demeanor doesn’t seem threatening but you see those fangs in his mouth and you know what they can do, you know the power he must possess. Yes, it’s no rumor after all, he is a vampire. And if the same rumors are correct – a very powerful one. He doesn’t need a dagger in his hand to be extremely dangerous and you’re not enough of a fool to pick a fight with a Vampire Lord unless you have to.

“Can I assume you’re not here to give me a key?” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re not going to be intimidated by him.

You have one more trick up your sleeve if things go murderously bad, a ring of teleportation that you rarely use because it tends to trigger magical defenses but since Astarion already caught you there’s no reason to avoid using it if you can’t talk your way out of the situation. And you will try to talk your way out of it because you have too much pride to scuttle away like a spooked rat.

Vampire’s eyes slide down your body smoothly like a viper, then back up again. Another glance to the metal box behind you and then back to your eyes. He tilts his face to an angle, giving you a curious look.

“I could. But I do wonder what are you doing here. And more so, I am dying to hear how you got inside without being noticed, how have you made it this far as to end up in my personal chambers.” his tone is still smooth like velvet and it gives you chills.

“Let’s say I’m good at what I do.” you smirk at him, despite your unease and tension in your body you are not going to show even a sliver of it to him.

“Indeed you are.” Astarion now steps closer and you move to the side when he approaches the box, placing his long, nimble fingers on it. You recognize a hand of a man who has picked many such locks himself in the past and you wonder about his history for a moment before he looks at you again, his eyes always on yours, almost never leaving.

“Do you know what’s in there, darling?” vampire asks and you cross your arms on your chest, shifting your weight on the other foot. Your goal is also to appear non-threatening but your muscles are tight as a spring.

“I was hoping it’s the Amulet of Weeping.” you say straightforwardly. You see no reason to lie because unless Astarion keeps something more in the box he knows perfectly well what you were trying to get.

Vampire chuckles lightly and taps his fingertips on the lid of the box.

“Indeed. Do you know what it does, you precious little thief?” the smirk on his lips and his eyes, forever locked on yours, it’s almost all you can see.

Yet his question makes you lose your cool. You look at the metal box and clear your throat, stalling for time but then look back at him.

“Well, actually I don’t. You see-“ a sudden finger on your lips, silencing you. If he’s a vampire, why his touch is so warm? And how in the Nine Hells he’s so fast? You didn’t even see him move, it was like a flash, it happened in a blink of an eye.

Oh yes, he’s even more dangerous than the tales you’ve heard.

“Shh. Don’t speak.” Astarion’s voice is soothing, alluring.

What is this… Why you feel so relaxed, so… warm? Your alertness starts to blunt, your caution begins to turn into curiosity and are you flushing? Your face feels hot and this change you feel somehow does not feel strange or unwelcome. It’s like being embraced, it’s like being caressed, you belong.

And all you can see is the crimson of his eyes.

“There we go. I’m sure you’re feeling better. Don’t resist, my dear, just relax, I’m not going to harm you. Maybe I will even reward you for being so brave.” Astarion croons with a voice like silk.

“Reward?” you ask, feeling like you’re in a dream. A voice in the back of your head tells you you’re being charmed but that voice is quickly snuffed out. It’s gone like a whisp of smoke from a candle that just got blown out. One moment it’s there and then not even a memory of it lingers.

“Yes, a reward, darling. Wouldn’t you like to be rewarded?” vampire’s fingers now grip your chin softly, lifting your face to his, his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“What… kind of reward?” even your own voice sounds distant now but you couldn’t care less. Those eyes… Those red eyes that bore into yours… They are everything.

“Ah, now what kind of reward we will have to see for ourselves.” Astarion smirks but his fangs don’t bother you anymore, if anything they look attractive, lighting a fire in your belly. “Let’s go, I’ll let you pick your reward, you little thief.”

With that he moves his fingers from your chin and wraps his arm around your shoulders, now leading you out of this small room. You follow without question or hesitation, but glance back at the box just once, trying to remember what was so special about it and why did you even come here. No, you don’t remember. And it doesn’t matter, not anymore.

When you look in front of you the door opens and a view of a lavish bedroom greets you. A big, luxurious bed with bedposts and parted drapes, all in black or red or gold. Simple glance around the room reveals several paintings, some bookshelves and cabinets, closets and a table, some comfortable looking armchairs. The carpet even under your boots feels soft, you almost want to lay down on it. But Astarion’s arm around your shoulders makes you walk further, towards the bed, and you barely register the door behind you closing.

Why are you here? Oh yes, the reward. When Astarion stops you just in front of the bed, his arm leaves you and he turns you to him by your shoulders. When your eyes land on his you smile. He’s so beautiful, so handsome, he’s the prettiest being you have ever seen. He sees your smile, your glazed over eyes and smiles in return.

“Not afraid of me, are you?” he asks and you slowly shake your head. “Very good. I must say, you are very very pretty, darling. What’s your name?”

Your name… Your name? What’s your name?

Your face scrunches in confusion, your eyes scan his chest and noses of your boots as if the answer is written somewhere in his noble’s attire or in the leather of your shoes. You look up at him again and Vampire Lord chuckles.

“Well, that matters not. You will remember soon enough.” Astarion uses both hands to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears and you smile at him again. His touch is soft, warm and wanted. “But, to get back to my point, you are beautiful.” he leans closer to your face, his smile and his eyes become your whole world. “And I like to collect beautiful things.”

“Things?” you echo and something once more tugs at your mind but then disappears again. You’re perfectly in his control. Under his gaze you can’t resist him.

Astarion does not bother to reply, his gaze sweeps down your body, analyzing every piece of clothing you’re wearing, then his nimble fingers begin unclasping your leather armor, taking it off piece by piece, dropping one item after another to the side of his feet. At first you don’t realize what’s going on, you just watch his face but when vampire slips the straps of your bra off your shoulders you finally blink in confusion.

When you look down at yourself you see yourself half naked, your nipples perk up at the contrast between the air of the room and the warmth of your clothing that just got removed. You rise your eyes to Astarion and see his smile once more. You don’t recognize the gentle malice in his expression but even if you did you wouldn’t care, not until the fog is lifted from your mind.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” Vampire Lord whispers and his face is so close you can smell wine on his breath and… something else. Something metallic, coppery, you can’t put your finger on it.

Your face scrunches at the thought, your eyes move to his lips and his smile, you see the fangs.

Ah yes, that’s right, he’s a vampire.

Wait, what are you doing here?

You gasp, your thoughts get interrupted by Astarion pinching both your nipples at the same time. Again you feel the fire in your abdomen, you recognize it as desire and you look into his eyes, the crimson of them drowning you like a lake of blood. And you give in.

“I want something from you.” Vampire Lord’s whisper replaces your thoughts and you just stand there with your face flushed and your body reacting with a shiver because he’s still teasing your nipples. “Something you can give me with ease.” a pause, a moment passes, then you feel his palm press against the small of your back and push you towards him, against his chest. Your hands grasp his waist and your lips part. “Just give in, darling. And I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

You see his grin and it would look dangerous to you if you weren’t completely in his control. Instead of fear you feel overwhelming lust and you close your eyes, turning your face up and inviting him for a kiss.

And Astarion does kiss you. His lips clash against yours in a hurry and passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, past your teeth, it tastes you and you taste him back. Yes, you recognize what it was that you smelled before – blood. You taste it on his lips, you taste it on his tongue and you don’t care. Your heart beats fast in your chest, your fingers now move to his clothing, trying to find clasps, buttons and laces. You manage to open his doublet, slip it off his shoulders. You don’t hear it falling to the floor, because only thing you’re hearing is your own heartbeat beating fast in your ears.

But then the kiss stops. You don’t know how long it lasted, a minute, an hour, a year? Still, you feel like it wasn’t enough, you don’t want it to stop and you barely open your eyes before you immediately try to kiss him again, eliciting a chuckle out of the Vampire Lord.

“How eager.” he comments but you don’t care. Your arms find his neck and you try to pull his head lower, to your level, your lips seek his with urgency, but with ease Astarion pushes you away. “Patience, my pet. I’ll reward you soon enough.”

You exhale in dizzy frustration but lower your hands, obeying. It’s easy to listen to him, you realize. What a pleasant feeling, you could do this forever.

“Stand still, darling.” Astarion’s voice reaches your ears and you return to the present.

You now watch him undo laces of your pants and slide them down your hips and thighs, together with your underwear, exposing you fully. You don’t know what shame is and you don’t remember how embarrassment feels like. You only know one thing – you want this man, you want him to take you and it’s hard not to start begging.

Astarion guides you while he takes off your pants and shoes, helping you step out of last bits of your clothing and when he raises again he puts one arm around your hips, leading you to the bed. It looks so soft, inviting. You want to spend forever in it with him. So when you feel vampire pat you on the ass, urging you to climb in, you do so without hesitation.

When you turn around and lay on your back, you have a moment to watch Astarion shed his own clothing in full. He takes his time, his eyes roaming up and down your nude body, his eyes would tell you of possessiveness and even a hint of cruelness if you could think straight, but right now you only see that he wants you. After he pulls his pants down and his eager erection is revealed, you swallow hardly. You want it in you, you want to taste it, you want to please him. You want to serve.

“Do you like what you see?” Astarion taunts and you nod without any shame, your lips part and you lick them, your gaze focused on his cock, so ready to make you his, maybe forever.

Vampire Lord kicks off his shoes at last, then removes his pants completely and after he straightens his back, you watch his hand grasp his shaft and give it a few slow strokes. After the third or fourth you notice precum glistening at the top of his cock.

“Ah…” is only thing you manage to say, your desire coiling and moving in you like a hungry snake. Your reaction makes Astarion chuckle and the sound of it forces yours eyes back on his once more.

He gets closer and climbs into bed slowly with a grace of a predator, his body moves on top of yours and you part your legs widely for him, welcoming him. You lean your head back, relaxing in the bed and Astarion once more sweeps your body with his gaze, stopping at your breasts.

“Touch yourself.” he commands and you immediately do so. Your hands raise, cup your breasts, your fingertips graze your nipples and then pinch them, roll them, tug at them gently while you do as instructed. You see how intensively Astarion is watching you, his smirk widens when you let out a soft moan, then another. You were ready for him already, this is just making it worse.

Finally he looks down, between your legs, and with one hand pressed against the bed for support with other he traces the inner side of your thigh up and then higher. When he touches your entrance, feels how wet you are for him, he exhales slowly. His fingers explore every inch of your sex, making you gasp and moan louder, then his thumb brushes against your clit, sending a shiver through your body.

“You’re so ready for me, pet.” Astarion’s voice is husky, it’s obvious he’s getting worked up too as his eyes dart between his own fingers exploring you and you playing with your nipples.

That dreamy feeling you’ve been feeling up until now lessens, maybe it’s because Astarion is less concentrated, maybe your own desire is making your mind begin to break free but you now realize that you’ve got seduced into this man’s bed. Yet you’re too aroused, too impassioned to stop here. And your body still screams to be taken, to be conquered and to be claimed.

And he’s just so beautiful. No, you’re not free from his charm and allure, not even close, and your mind focuses on his silver locks falling gracefully around his face, you see his eyes, now filled with lust and desire, examining every inch of your body. You feel his fingers making you moan with a practiced touch and you want more. So much more.

“Take me.” you hear yourself say with a gasp and your hips buck against his fingers as if your own body is out of your control, not only your thoughts.

Astarion now looks into your eyes and smiles.

“I’m going to do so much more, my dearest pet. I’m going to claim you, I’m going to fill your tight holes and then I’ll have you beg for more.” his words send a shiver down your body that pools between your thighs, his fingers tease your cunt and he immediately notices that you got even wetter, it makes him smirk. “I’ll make you mine, I’ll claim you, and I will keep filling you with my seed every night. And who knows, maybe you’ll give me an heir eventually.”

Silence falls while your face gets redder with his every word.

An heir? He wants you to do what? Yet his eyes are still your entire world and your body moves, your hips moving again, your cunt pressing against his fingers in need.

Yes, you will give him an heir. As long as you can be his.

Your hands leave your breasts and you put your palms on the back of his head, your fingers threading in his hair.

“Yes, I will.” you whisper and that reply rewards you with a passionate kiss.

Astarion’s fingers now leave your drenched seam and roughly pull your knee up, making you hook your leg around his waist. His chest presses against yours and you sigh against his lips.

And then he enters you. One swift thrust and he’s fully inside, stretching you almost to a point of uncomfortable fullness and you moan at that, your mouth remains open with the gasp but his lips are also parted, he’s enjoying the feeling of you around his cock. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and your fingers clench in his hair.

“Take me. Make me yours.” you whisper and a guttural growl escapes Astarion’s throat at your words. He doesn’t wait, he begins thrusting.

You close your eyes and moan, feeling his cock pierce you again and again. You’re so aroused his shaft is moving with satisfying ease, his hips snapping against you with increasing pace.

“Fuck, you’re going to look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” Astarion grunts and lowers his head to your neck, kissing it first, then nibbling the skin with his teeth. His hand grips your thigh strongly, keeping it up.

Only response you can give him is your moans, loud and unashamed. You hold onto his neck and hair while he rocks himself against you, filling you deeply with his cock, his thrusts unrelenting. It feels like he’s been going at it for hours and every second is better than the last.

Your mind swims from sensations. His sweaty skin against yours, his shaft buried deep inside your cunt, his teeth on your neck, his fangs-

“Ouch!” you exclaim when he bites down, sinking his canines into your flesh, but when you react you hear a rumble of a laugh coming from him. Astarion lifts his head at you, his lips are painted in redness of your blood.

“Get used to it, my pet. You’re mine now.”

Vampire Lord bites you again and this time you just sigh. Somehow his first bite was painful, second one sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers leave his hair, you place your palms on his back, feeling something there like scars, but you don’t know, you’re far away, consumed by your passion. It’s just his lithe body claiming yours, making you writhe and arch your back, making you moan.

Then Astarion slows, he moves his hips now lower, his pelvis brushes against yours, then an angle changes and he begins rubbing himself against your swollen clit, sending jolts down your spine. You open your eyes, more in surprise than anything and see Astarion’s smug smile.

“Enjoying yourself, darling?” he lifts his head with a smug smile, confident because he knows he’s good at this and he’s correct. You whimper and nod eagerly, your face still flushed. “Good.”

Astarion’s thrusts ease into a steady pace. How his skin is rubbing against you is beginning to drive you crazy. You look at him, not able to control your moans that are growing louder by the second. What is he doing to you? You never felt pleasure like this before. You can’t stop, you don’t want to stop.

“Come for me.” you hear a whisper in your ear and then he looks at your face again, enjoying the view.

Everything up until this point felt like a dream, but not this.

You feel your orgasm with every inch of your body. You cry out and dig your nails into Astarion’s back, your body tenses and your cunt clenches around him, your sweaty form spasms and you feel yourself clinging to him.

“Good girl, very good girl.”

You are barely able to comprehend Astarion’s words, because the world melts around you, this moment is intense, most intense thing you experienced in your life. But Vampire Lord doesn’t stop thrusting. When your bliss begins to fade, when you come down from your high, you look at him again and Astarion leans away from you. He straightens his back as much as he can, his palms pressed on the bed by your sides and his now messy hair drapes over his eyes but you see him watching his cock plunge into you with increasing fervor.

“Watch me fill you, my pet.” vampire’s grunt is laced with strain as he keeps fucking you while you’re trying to recover from your orgasm. You’re out of breath but this is not over, not until he says it is.

And you listen, you look down, seeing your bodies connect with every pump of his hips and you grasp at the sheets. Something about this, the anticipation, the knowledge of what he’s about to do and the desire to be used by him, it’s making the edges of your world blurry.

Astarion is grunting now, his lips parted and he’s breathing heavily. Even his face is flushed, but then he moans loudly just before he clenches his teeth. His thrusts become erratic, his eyes locked on the motion of him thrusting into you, his groans are barely passing his teeth. You know he’s spending himself entirely inside of you and it’s a delicious thought. And then after few more pumps he stops, panting when his face relaxes. You keep your eyes where your bodies are still connected, your thighs are quivering, and Astarion glances up at you with a smirk.

He says nothing as he moves one hand and grips the base of his cock, slowly pulling out of you now. You mewl gently at that, the feeling of him leaving your body is an unwelcome one. But Astarion is not done yet. He kneels between your thighs and pats your inner thigh with his cock that is now losing its hardness. With a satisfied grin he lets go of it and presses a thumb to your fold, teasing it, watching his cum seep out of you. You blush heavily at that even though you can’t see what he’s seeing.

“Beautiful.” Vampire Lord comments more to himself than to you and remains still for a long moment, just appreciating the view. Then his eyes raise to your face. “Rest for a bit. When I said I’m going to fill your holes, I meant all of them.”

You nod eagerly despite your face burning.

You cannot wait.

[writingstoraes]

total swiftie 🎶

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: this was requested but somehow i cant find it in my inbox :(( anyway i hope u like this, anon! happy the eras tour 🤍 sorry this took so long lol

about: it's your life mission to convert charles into a total swiftie.

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, isahernaez, carlossainz55, and 234,592 others

yourusername i once believed love would be burning red — but it's golden, like daylight 🌅

appreciation post for the personification of the lover album, songs and the entire english vocabulary are not enough to express how much i adore u 🤍

(ps. pls join me in being a swiftie baby)

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc As much as I want to, I just can't grasp the folklore love triangle, amoúr

f1swift LMAO NOT THE FOLKLORE LOVE TRIANGLE??? Y/N SO REAL FOR THIS

lecsmidnight absolutely right queen charles is such a lover album

sainzz55 more like 1989???

pierregasly I caught Charles today watching the Bejeweled music video if it helps 😅

charles_leclerc MATE

yourusername awwww baby :((

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, lorenzotl, and 1,329,112 others

charles_leclerc Spontaneous adventure around the city at night + my passenger princess ❤️ (She races me for the AUX and blasts Taylor songs the whole ride in her efforts to convert me into a swiftie)

tagged: yourusername

yourusername anddd how am i doing so far?

charles_leclerc Getting close 😘

leclercs13 y/n converting charles into a swiftie is just so real of her

carlossainz55 Just be a swiftie Charles, Midnights is so good 😁

yourusername SEE YOU GET IT CARLOS

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, leclerc_pascale, lorenzotl, and 1,892,330 others

charles_leclerc How I masterminded my way into catching my girlfriend by surprise with the fact that I actually am a Swiftie:

1. Adore how passionate she becomes when talking about her favorite artist

2. Let her rant about album theories, which "Taylor's version" we get next, and finally listen properly when she explains the folklore love triangle

3. Learn Taylor Swift's entire discography, from debut until now

4. Pester the whole grid in helping me get The Eras front row tour tickets

5. Surprise her with the concert tickets and just watch her have the time of her life (surprised that I know the lyrics to the songs)

6. Just when she thinks the night ends at the concert, take her to a magnificent dinner and propose using a "Paper Rings" reference.

isahernaez Oh my god the big surprise is finally here! Congratulations, you two 🥂

lecs13 WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE LAST STEP IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT

sainzzhero charles proposing what the actual FUCK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING

danielricciardo ...I am so honored to be the one who got the tickets (me and my fast typing skills)

landonorris You only got those cause my computer lagged 😒

carlossainz55 You two arguing I was literally the first one on the website

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon23, pierregasly, and 507,991 others

yourusername i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings, charles_leclerc 💍

except you actually got me a real ring, but i would have said yes as long as it's you. je tàime, my love 🤍

charles_leclerc Excited to spend the rest of my life screaming Taylor Swift songs in the car with you, baby 😚

c2legends such goals im going to cry

charles1655 GOD ME WHEN

lewishamilton Congratulations, Y/N and Charles 🥂 Swiftie Charles is a refreshing new side of him hahaha

carlossainz55 Best wishes, you two! Please remember: I was the first on the ticket website. Don't believe whatever Daniel says 😁

arthur_leclerc Welcome to the family, Y/N! I also want tour tickets 🙏

--------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: this took some time to make lol ANYWAYYYY thank you so much for reading and lmk what u guys think! 🤍 tumblr is giving me a hard time right now apparently the formatting is weird in ios devices 🥹 like the bold texts are all off n shit and it wont let me fix it 😭

[fernlessbastard]

So, what's the deal with this tnt duo art?

I've explained it in my reblog of this post, but I've decided to copy this over to a brand new post as well, because especially with qsmp happening I'm sure we have many newer people here who don't get what's the deal with this piece

Ok so first off: the artist is _olga.exe_ on Instagram (I think also on twitter but i don't use Twitter so you'll have to check that one yourself)

To the best of my understanding this art just came out around June 2021, which was immediately after the first Revivedbur/Quackity interaction. The first two or so months the ship was exclusively seen as a crack ship - I'm not fully certain why, I think it's just that quackbur before wasn't all that known and popular, so it seemed like it came out of nowhere to the majority of the internet (which, it didn't, holy shit, those sluts have been so gay with each other for so long). It also was a time when most people only began realising that ccQuackity was capable of serious lore, which most likely added to how the ship was seen. Even I myself actually was very hesitant to bring it up to my partner, when I began slowly getting into it - of course while simultaneously deluding myself that it's nothing more than a crack ship for me (@octobre-ackedia oh would you look at how we ended up--).

This art was one of the first pieces that were fully serious, and couldn't be construed in any way shape or form as /p, so it got picked up by people on twitter and memed on. Around September 2021 tntblr began reclaiming it (and if I remember correctly we had a boom of posts sharing the original artist about that time).

In this surge of new people beginning to ship those two that's been happening for the past year or so, I need you all to remember that quackbur started off first as a very underground ship that almost no-one spoke of, and then became a crack ship. The header on my blog doesn't come from a "ha ha funny" self deprecating meme. #twquackburshipping was a tag that someone seriously used to tag a post about how Eret commented on some tntduo/r tiktok.

I get how easy it is to forget how anti-mainstream of a ship quackbur used to be (or simply miss that, if you're newer - which, for the record, no shame, I'm happy to see the new faces!), considering ccQuackity's endorsement of it in the last months of dsmp, not to mention what's happening on qsmp, but all those "omg I'm a quackbur shipper ha ha don't hate me ha I'm cringe I know" jokes used to genuinely not be jokes something like 1,5 years ago.

I hope this explains it thoroughly, and to everyone a little bit newer to the ship: welcome! Glad to see you here, remember to have fun, and if you've got any questions, feel free to ask me :]]

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part six —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this was longer but i decided to break it up sorry :p

The last glimpse of civilization you had was a chaotic one.

It was the first day of the outbreak.

Freshly infected running around. Bodies scattered in the streets like dead flies. Screaming. Paul grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the treeline. Your nephew shrieking in your sister’s arms. It’s funny how trauma likes to grab hold of the minute details. You can also recall seeing a bus pass by with an ad for some superhero movie. You had planned on seeing it. The bus crashed into a house and the ad was licked by flames.

Paul was always the one to make the trips to pharmacies and markets. He was the one who wielded a gun, not you. You were the one to stay behind, fortify the fence, and watch over the two broken members of your family.

Society's dust— that is what you leave Ghost’s territory for.

You know you need to.

You wait for your period to end.

Freshly spilled blood is not a scent you want to carry. Greys are drawn to it like flies to rot. Something you learned the hard way once during a hunt with Paul. They were able to catch your scent from a further distance than usual because of it.

To your relief, Ghost lets you look at his map.

Of course, you can’t take it with you.

“Jus’ memorize it,” he grumbles under his breath.

So the evening before you venture out, you study the map of Northern England. Ghost brought out a whole stack of them from the room you’re certain is his. You notice a map of the European continent on top, briefly catching a glimpse of a black circle drawn in the middle somewhere, but he is quick to move it underneath the pile.

You focus on the one you need.

There is a black dot to indicate where their camp is amid the forest. Some 20 kilometers south is the closest city. Or village rather. Ribchester. Maybe that is a safer bet than going by yourself to a big city like Manchester. You may have a bow and knife and some strength, but you don't have a car or guns like he does. Or companions coming with you.

Blue helps you turn your pillowcase into a strapped bag with some scissors. You need something to carry what you find. Ghost isn't willing to let you leave with his backpack. Bitterly, you get it. It’s a useful item.

The next morning, you feel as prepared as you can be. You wake up earlier than usual, before Blue has the chance to poke inside your shed with Grim. You eat a big breakfast of two dried squirrels. You have a third one to take with you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Blue picks at her breakfast as she sits beside you at the table. Her lips twist around thoughtfully.

You glance between her and Ghost. His stare is unreadable like usual. Dark, stoic, and hiding under lowered brows. You wonder what he thinks— if he would be secretly relieved if you don't make it back alive. Probably. He could get rid of you without Blue pointing the blame at him.

"Medicine is important. I need to find my own.”

We can’t risk sneaking anymore, you would say if he wasn’t right there. But by the way she slides her blue eyes to discreetly meet yours, you think she gets the hint.

"Just be careful, okay?" You nod. "And remember—" she lifts a finger, "—you have to shoot those fucks in the brain."

"I know. I've been practicing my aim a bit."

The smile you offer is only half-there. The truth is, you are risking your life with this. Part of you wonders how deeply she has processed that.

Despite her lips appearing more chewed-through than usual, they give a wary smile in return.

“Yeah, we could hear you hitting the trees. Right, Ghost?"

He hums low, but characteristically, doesn't have much to say about you.

But when you head for the cabin door after eating, his firm hand surprises you, gloved and skeletal. It wraps around your bicep and brings you to a halt before you can step outside. Heat spreads through his glove and the layers of your clothes. You turn around just as a metal object is silently offered to your chest. Ghost holds your stare before you look down at what he is giving you.

It's the revolver. The one they collected from that man.

The gun with only one cartridge.

"Thanks."

You bite your cheek to hide the dry tone, slipping the revolver into your coat pocket. Maybe it will come in handy. At least he now trusts you enough not to immediately point it at him or her.

Blue is the one to follow you out to the gate of their camp.

"I hope you find something good."

"Me, too."

"You know, Ghost and I only went on one trip that I can remember," she says as she unlocks the bolts for you.

"Yeah?"

"To get him more ammo from a military base," she explains with a wave of her hand. "It was pretty close, though. He says that we went on one other trip back to Manchester when things first happened, but he carried me on his back the whole time so I don't remember much except for all the loud sounds.”

This part she adds quietly: "Think I closed my eyes for most of it."

"I would have closed my eyes, too, Blue.”

The next glimpse of civilization you get is a desolate one.

Again, you are on your own. Though, maybe you’ve been alone this whole time in a way.

It is that weird time between winter and spring when the air is crisp but the sun is bright. You hope to complete the trip in one day, which gives you about nine hours. You walk and walk, leaving Ghost's familiar territory behind until the trees become new to you again. You’ve never gone south before. You stop by a creek to drink some water along the way. By high noon, you exit the forest for the first time in five years.

You can see it. Overgrown shrubs and dry vines that crawl over cracked concrete. A road. A billboard arches over with a peeled ad for shaving cream, the woman’s face looking mangled. Your bow is poised as you follow the highway towards the village, recalling a time when you used to take the bus ride down this very route to visit your sister’s home. You liked watching the trees and rolling hills pass through the window as you tucked your ears under headphones.

It is so strange.

The air is quiet with abandonment.

Briefly, you ache for a world that once existed and the life you once lived. Car rides. Music whenever you wanted. Drunk outings on the weekends when you were supposed to be studying for nursing school. Hope for a family of your own someday.

But you have to ignore all that to stay focused on the present. Now, life is whittled down to basic needs and protecting yourself the best you can.

The village soon appears as stone buildings with unkempt wisteria scaling the sides. Abandoned cars haphazardly parked throughout the streets. You keep your guard up and your nose flared as you approach. There is a faint, awful scent that looms in the air, but it is not strong enough to cause concern. Not yet.

A pharmacy.

You need to find one.

If you want to make it back to their camp by nightfall, then you can only waste about an hour or two here. You could spend the night in a tree and trek the 20 kilometers tomorrow, but sleeping in a branch is even more unpleasant than your shed and it is risky. You were willing to do it when you had no other choice, but what if some unfriendly people find you this time? Perhaps even unfriendlier than the threat of Ghost's knife to your neck.

An hour is killed just searching for the pharmacy.

You roam the empty streets.

Finally, you catch sight of the faded sign and your heart leaps. But the excitement fades away when your nose and eyes detect the group of Greys just outside the building in an empty parking lot. Their pale eyes aren’t pointed at you yet, so you move behind a crumpled car for cover. If you had gotten any closer, they surely would've smelled your human flesh.

You take a deep breath. How many are there?

Carefully, you poke your head out just an inch to survey the threat. Six of those fucks. That is doable given the range.

The last time you ran into Greys, you had no choice but to run because of the bow Ghost stepped on. This time, you can kill them off with the bow carved by his hands.

You are quick with it. You stand and release arrow by arrow. Four of the six are headshots. You aren't perfect. The last two receive arrows through their shoulders, but this type of wound means nothing to a Grey. It is their brains that are infected with the virus, just like Blue said.

These two begin running towards you, now catching a whiff of your scent.

You climb on top of the car. Hitting a running target is far trickier. You go for the faster one first, using two more arrows before hitting the skull, grey chunks of brain splattering onto the concrete. The slower one just barely reaches the car before you finish it off, the closer distance sharpening this final hit.

The pharmacy is reachable now.

As you run over, you gather the used arrows. Precious ammo. You pull them out of their bodies with a twist and a putrid squelch.

When you push through the doors to the pharmacy, you almost choke. The shelves— they are empty. You breeze through every aisle, eyes and hands seeking anything that could be left, but there is nothing. You check the back. You check the shelves behind the counter.

Empty, empty, empty.

“Oh, fuck me,” you croak. Hot tears spill down your cheeks.

You half expected this.

But you’ve come all this way.

You need something.

There must be somewhere else you can look.

The cars maybe. Most people used to keep med kits somewhere inside. There is a slight chance that one could’ve been forgotten. It is worth a try.

You keep moving, not wanting to return with an empty bag. The white sun hangs high. The dry air turns your tear-stained cheeks sticky. You pick up rocks to begin breaking the windows of the abandoned cars, poking your arm inside to undo the locks, and rummaging through the glove compartments.

CDs, magazines, condom wrappers.

Nothing.

“Please, please.”

You make it down the street like this, checking every single one. Distracted, you shatter the glass of a white sedan without noticing the shadow laying in the backseat.

Fingers wrap around your wrist as you reach for the inner lock.

A maggot-filled mouth lurches for the flesh of your hand.

An arrow won't work here. With a cry, you use your free hand to grab the revolver from your pocket and shoot its head. The sound echoes. The single bullet burrows right between its eyes. The Grey writhes for a moment before going limp against the seat.

Panting, you have to pry the bony fingers off your wrist.

Again, you search the glove compartment. In this car where the stench is thick enough to sicken you, a med kit and a Twix bar fall into your hands.

“Fuck— thank you.”

You stash both into your homemade bag.

You could leave now, but you are itching for some antibiotics. The kit will help you clean wounds without Ghost's help, but it won’t save you if you develop an infection.

The next idea you have is to check a house.

By the look of the sky, you can fit in at least two quick searches. You run over to the next street and kick at the front door of the first one you see. Nothing but knocked-over furniture and torn wallpaper. The bathroom cabinet is empty.

The next one you fight inside is decorated with furniture that smells like faded perfume. The first room you check is a bedroom. In the center, a full set of bones lies on the bed, void of any meat after God knows how long its been there. You try not to look at it. On the floor lies a pile of clothes. You could use some more, still dressed in the ones Ghost found you in. You don't even look at them, just grab what you can fit in your bag and move on to the bathroom.

Here, beside a pair of molded dentures, you find two half-full bottles of pills.

Amoxicillin.

Paracetamol.

You cry some more.

It's not much, but it is enough for now.

Your muscles are fatigued by the time you make it back.

You reek of sweat. It is a long walk. You run into a few more Greys but manage them. You eat the squirrel you brought.

Darkness covers the forest just when you spot the camp's fence in the distance. Relief. You actually did it. Some pride breathes into your tired lungs.

As you get closer, you make out two silhouettes leaving the gate. One is a girl who you tiredly smile at the sight of, and the other is a bulky tank.

You leap over the trench.

But when your boots land on the other side, the end of a rifle pokes your breastbone and prevents you from getting any closer.

"Ghost."

You can't help but shout at him, eyes widening. He is pointing a gun at you? You were just beginning to think he could tolerate you enough to not threaten murder anymore. The memory of your first encounter resurfaces.

"It's just me! What the hell are you doing?"

Panic finds you once again. Your chest rises and falls under his gun’s touch. You glance at Blue, who tries to get near you, but he sticks out an arm to keep her away.

"Dad," Blue groans, "Do you really have to— ”

The tip of the rifle brushes up over your collarbone and toward your neck. Your nerves awaken under cold metal.

"Let me see." His voice is firm.

Oh. Bites. He wants to see if you have any bites.

"Okay, okay." You nod breathlessly.

Swallowing, you gather your braided hair in your hands as he clicks on a flashlight. You have not been offered string to tie them with so most of the hair has fallen out as always. You roll your neck to one side, and then to the other to show him the unmarked skin. But he is not satisfied yet.

He moves the rifle down to the hem of your shirt and uses it to lift up the fabric just beneath your breasts, revealing the skin of your stomach and ribs. You should feel exposed, standing here with your bare midriff under the light, but the two of them have already seen this much of you. You are more concerned about the fact that he could kill you if he actually suspects you could’ve been bitten.

The cold air invites a shiver. Your teeth clench as you stare at him. In the darkness, his eyes almost lean red.

He lowers your shirt.

"Roll 'em up for me,” he demands, now giving a nod to your trousers.

You bend over to roll up the pantlegs, all the way up to your knees so he can’t complain about it. All that is revealed are your unshaven legs and sweat-laced socks. You are sure they can smell them from where they stand.

"She doesn't have any stupid bites, Ghost, alright?"

Blue tugs at his arm with a huff. Finally, the rifle lowers. You straighten back up and exhale the short breath you were holding.

There is a silent moment where the three of you just stand there. An owl hoots. Ghost rubs at his masked jaw and looks you over some more, eyes flicking to the filled bag over your shoulder with a raised brow.

And then, something unexpected.

A small body whirls into yours and you almost stumble back in a step. Blue wraps her arms around your waist and excitedly breathes out, "I knew you'd make it back. Ghost said you wouldn't. I told him you would."

What?

It is a short-lived hug.

But still, the first one you have had in a long time.

After this tiring day, your eyes close with some more moisture. It is a strange feeling, her young embrace. Her palms spread flat against your back and she presses her forehead to your shoulder because she is tall enough to reach it. You are just about to hug her in return, move your arms around her shoulders out of instinct, but she is soon tugged away by a skeletal hand. Her blue eyes drift down to her boots. She looks a mix of irritated and embarrassed.

In a daze, you end up back in the warmth of the cabin.

Blue begs you to show her what you found. You dump the contents of your pillowcase onto the table. Her father’s shadow lurks behind you somewhere, always watching and taking up space, but for now, you ignore him.

You cannot recall a time when you were in this kind of mood. It is enough to surface the waters of your grief. Because now, your survival does not have to rely so much on Ghost's mercy or the risk of Blue’s sneaky hands. Food, a med kit, one type of antibiotic. It should all be enough to keep you alive - to take care of yourself - for at least however long you end up staying here.

"Shit balls." Blue rummages through the goods. "You did pretty good."

"Right? I can't believe it," you whisper numbly. You wipe your eyes.

She holds up the clothes first, starting with a large, floral blouse that looks like something an old lady would wear. Her head tips back with a giggle.

"This is way too big for you."

"I'll make it work," you say, shrugging, but almost manage a quiet laugh, too. You don't really give a fuck what the clothes look like. At least you can change finally into something else - something that didn’t belong to your dead companions.

Where you care about the medicine, Blue is far more intrigued by the candy bar she discovers. She holds it up, and inspects the wrapper with curiously wide eyes, shooting a glance at her dad.

"T-w-i-x," she sounds out with pinched brows. She looks back at you. "What's this?"

"It's like... chocolate," you tell her.

"Oh— no way. Could I try some?"

You don't really care about the Twix bar. You almost forgot about it since the moment you found it in the car. But before you can tell her she can just have it as a late birthday gift - because she has done so much for you - Ghost moves to take it from her hands.

He puts it back down on the table.

“What’s hers is hers, kid. That’s how it works here.“

[bonezone44]

'Doesn't Nothing Ever Last Forever?' (18+)

Raider!Joel x afab!Reader

Word Count: 5,4k

(FYI: woman in moodboard is a side character.)

Summary: You worked in a brothel outside of a quarantine zone. Every once in a while, you got a visit from Joel and his men. This was your first time being around for one of those visits. (Reader is severely depressed and bisexual [relatable, amiright?]. Reader is not popular at the brothel.)

tags: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT (tagging this to be safe!) Kidnapping, sexual slavery, group sex, overstimulation, rough oral (m). POV switching, canon-typical violence. -- Sex between Reader and Joel is non-con. Reader enjoys it, but the larger context doesn't allow for consent. Fingering, unprotected p-in-v. Degradation. Finger-sucking. Spanking. Orgasm control/denial. Joel is turned on by Reader's history w/ women. Reader is called slut, good girl, bad girl. Reader calls Joel "sir."

A/N: Written for @iamasaddie's writing challenge. ✏ I was so excited by their moodboards, I had to participate. Also, read @toxicanonymity for the original Raider!Joel which heavily inspired this one. 🙏 And special thanks to @milla-frenchy for helping me choose a story line. 😘

story masterlist - main masterlist

+++++

The days bled together, one right after the other. No matter how clear the skies were, a permanent fog had taken over your mind. 

The only reason you woke up that evening was all the commotion. You heard the roar of diesel engines and loud men laughing and yelling. The slamming of car doors. Then those voices got louder and closer. Obviously, they had made their way inside your building. You knew you should rise and shine. Get to work. But you stayed curled up on your bed cushion in the shared room as long as possible. Even after your boss had been calling for you.

It wasn’t the kind of job you punched in and out of. You lived in a brothel. You were paid by the client–and even then sometimes all you got was a spare coin or two. A ration slip, if you were really lucky. But those could only be spent at the nearby Quarantine Zone. And the four hour trek there and back was hell on your feet and knees.

Your boss, Larry, finally opened the door to your room, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he allowed the noise and chaos to do the job of waking you up.

You unfurled from the floor and wandered to the bathrooms, bare fit sticking to the tile floors. You had hoped no one would catch you and make you work. You hadn’t had it in you to do anything that day. What you really wanted to do was float away, fly with the clouds on the wind to somewhere far, far over the rainbow.

You found Trisha at the sinks, under the sickly green lights, already washing cum from her hands. 

“Joel and his crew are here again,” she mumbled. There was a tremor in her voice.

You nodded blankly. Tired.

She turned around and stared at you with wide eyes. “Joel,” she emphasized.

“Okay?” You shrugged. Your eyes bored into a growing mold stain in the corner.  

She scoffed. “Joel is the guy who bought Carrie.”

“What?” … ‘Bought Carrie?’ That didn’t sound right to you. “I just thought… she left.”

Trisha stared at you, aghast. The room was cold, but steam began to fog the mirror. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were there!” She shouted. “You were there when Larry told us he sold her for the fucking water heater!” She pointed at the filling sink.

You blinked. “...Oh.” You wiped your eyes with your hands. “I don’t… really remember.” Her words didn’t quite click it into place for you, but a dull memory played in the back of your mind. You remembered a ‘house meeting’ and hearing Carrie’s name a lot. You remembered getting the water heater. You remembered everyone being upset and yelling at Larry. You remembered curling in the corner, your brain checking out and wandering through the static of your own mind rather than feeling something–anything–in your own body.

That explained all the weird looks you had gotten later when you expressed excitement over the hot water. You had been happy about something for once and everyone responded by staring at you like you were a freak. 

But everyone you had ever met always felt so far away. Like you were so deep in the depths of your own mind that the world around you was a movie you were watching. All the people in your life were characters playing out their roles. So you did, too. You went through the daily motions, following some imaginary script in your mind. Playing a part. Doing whatever you thought you were supposed to.

Trisha started telling you more stories about Joel and his crew. About their violence. But none of it sounded real. It sounded like another movie to you. You stood, unmoving, wishing you had some bleach to clean the mold in the corner. You wanted to scrub the grout until it was pure again. Wipe away the layer of filmy mildew from the ceramic tiles. Disinfect every inch of porcelain in this piece of shit building. 

Another woman entered the bathroom, fully nude. “Well, look who decided to show up!” she spat at you. “Go out there and do your job. I need a fucking break.”

You sighed and resigned yourself to your fate. “Okay,” you muttered without meeting her eyes. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror or worrying about your clothes. You knew that in your line of work, they didn’t make a difference either way.

-

You walked out to the main room and saw about a dozen men scattered around the couches, women in their laps or on their knees. 

One woman was sitting naked in a guy’s lap while another guy roughly rubbed and slapped her clit. His laughter grossed you out. The woman was crying.  

Another woman was getting facefucked and choking. She pulled back to cough and breathe. The man she was sucking on held himself in a tight grip. He pushed the hair from her face and whispered softly to her, wiping away her tears, before shoving his cock right back in.

You nodded at the scene unaffected… well, mostly unaffected. You stared into the middle distance and focused on no one person in particular. The women’s moans were mostly performative–it was obvious. But the men didn’t seem to mind. Their moans were hungry and horny, enjoying whatever stimulation they seemed to be receiving. So that was what you focused on. Their blatant sexual desire. It fueled your own heat. A fire expanding in your chest and between your legs. Your mouth began to water. You sucked in your bottom lip, eager to feel flesh inside you. 

You weren’t sure how long you were standing there, watching. It merely occurred to you at some point that one of the men was walking up to you, blocking your view of the scene. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over a v-neck shirt.  A small, shiny gold cross hung around his neck and against his sunburned skin. He wore blue jeans and work boots.

Your boss, Larry, yammered in one of your ears at him.

“Joel,” he pleaded with clasped hands. “I’m sure you’d prefer someone like Trisha or-or-or Cameron. I’m sure, she’ll be right back out any minute!”

“No,” Joel says gruffly. “Her,” he pointed to you with his chin. 

“I’m sure. I’m sure.” Your boss chuckled uncomfortably and surrendered with empty palms. “Of course!” He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you toward the back of the building. He snarled in your ear. “Don’t fuck this up for me.” 

You wanted to shrug him off, but his grip was bruising. What could you ‘fuck up’ exactly? You had been working there for over a year. You weren’t popular, but you got the job done. You didn’t get along with any of the other women there, but what did that have to do with this guy, Joel?

Larry took you and Joel to one of the farthest rooms. It was the nice one with a real bed instead of a mattress or cushion on the floor. You had never been in it before. Not even to clean it. You looked around appraising the paint on the walls. There was a window, but it was dark out. The noise from the main room was barely audible. You liked being somewhere quiet again. 

#######

Joel and his crew pulled up around dinnertime in two pick-up trucks. The sun had set and the truck’s headlights bathed the front of the old office building in a warm, dull yellow.

The crickets were louder than hell that night. Joel remembered that much.

Not five seconds after his boys hopped out the trucks did the brothel owner come skittering out the front door with a nervous grin on his face.

Joel liked that. Piece o’ shit like that should be nervous. 

Joel hated Larry. The man was fucking pathetic. Weasel-y. So needy and desperate to please. Joel hated that Larry sold him a woman for a water heater. What kinda man would do something like that? This was supposed to be a brothel. The women were supposed to be his employees. He didn’t have the right to sell anybody.

But Joel had wanted her. And taking her outright would have caused more problems than it would have solved. So he figured a water heater would help keep things peaceful between them. Because his boys liked the brothel. Each little trip helped ease their minds. Gave them something to talk about and look forward to–something other than survival.

Joel’s needs were more permanent. He needed something more full-time rather than once every few months.

His boys started hooting and hollering as soon as the payment of supplies were unloaded and they got to hang out inside. The women weren’t even around yet, but they were more than ready for some physical entertainment. Joel remained standing while the rest of them spread out along the decaying leather couches lining the walls. A shitty little cd player sat in the corner playing old R&B music. He heard his brother, Tommy, singing along to it. 

Joel sighed and wiped his face with his hands.

Once Larry brought out a few women, the men started roaring. They were shouting and cheering, pulling their cocks out in excitement. Joel groaned. These boys didn’t know a goddamn thing about seducing a woman and their sad little dicks weren’t gonna get them anywhere neither.

Two of the guys grabbed one of the women, causing her to shout, but Joel was on them not a second later. He gripped their skulls, one in each of his giant hands, and knocked them together like coconut shells. 

“Ouch! What the hell, man?” asked one of them, rubbing the sore spot on his head. 

Joel shook his head with his eyes wide, boring into the depths of their souls. “Not until I say,” he spat.

They both tucked their heads under, murmuring. “Yes, Joel.” “Whatever you say, Joel.”

The woman got back in line while the boys sat down on the couch.

“I’m sure I’ve got a couple more on the way,” said Larry with a forced smile. “They’re just getting themselves cleaned up, I’m sure, after uh…  after finishing dinner.”

Joel grunted. He knew what he wanted–knew what kind of woman he was looking for. And he was quick to realize that none of the women in the room were it. So he waved his hand and his men let loose.

Joel stood with his arms crossed and his back against the front door. He kept his eye on the two troublemakers. Kept his ear on Tommy. Tommy was a talker. He loved to chat up the working women as if he was in a bar back home in Texas and looking to find himself a girlfriend. Joel thought Tommy was being ridiculous—acting like the women could say ‘no’ and walk away. Like he had to put real effort in. It annoyed the hell out of Joel. He wanted his crew to have their fun and be done with it. Why did Tommy have to make it so complicated?

Joel was getting bored and antsy the longer he waited. He was feeling needy, too, with the rough sounds of sex filling the air around him. But he was hopeful, preferring to be patient. And if, in the end, there was no woman he wanted, he would pick one at random and blow off some steam. He would find a replacement some other time or start looking around at the nearest Quarantine Zone.

  Then you walked in. 

And at first, Joel was ready to shrug you off, too. Sure, you were attractive. But looks weren't everything. That's what got him in trouble with the last woman. 

But something in your eyes changed as you scanned the room, taking in the sexual depravity. You didn't shrink in and shut down. You were turned on. He saw the way your chest rose and fell as your breaths shallowed and shortened. The way you chewed your bottom lip. The way you squirmed. That's what Joel needed. Someone as needy as him. 

The brothel owner tried to dissuade him. Huh, Joel wanted to laugh. As if that asshole knew a goddamn thing about what Joel wanted–about what Joel needed.

-

“Take your clothes off ‘n get on the bed,” he ordered after slamming the door shut behind him. He liked how quickly you complied. He didn’t understand why you were so calm, though. He unbuckled his belt, releasing the pressure from his stomach and allowing himself some room to breathe. He let the buckle hang and it jingled as he stepped closer to the bed. 

“All fours.”

Again, you complied swiftly and smoothly, facing the back wall.

He eyed you for any sores. Then he slipped his bare hand around the smooth curve of your ass and his fingertips prodded around your lips and entrance. You were already wet, he realized.  He slid the edge of his fingers forward against your clit. 

You moaned. Something fake and bland. 

He pulled his hand away and slapped you on the ass. “Hey.”  He grabbed you by the cheeks when you didn't immediately face him. Your eyes never met his. “Don't fuckin showboat me,” he warned. 

“Okay,” you said flatly. 

He didn’t like how detached you were. How unafraid. But he willed himself to be patient–the amount of wetness coating his fingers eased his anxiety. He continued to play with your folds as he asked questions.

He cleared his throat. “You like workin here?”

You shrugged. “It’s a job.”

“How long you been here?”

“About a year.”

Joel hummed. “I don’t remember you from last time.”

“Probably had the flu.” 

“You got over it okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, closing your eyes. You seemed to like it when he moved his thick fingers around you real slow. He liked that.

“You got anything else? Any diseases?”

You shook your head. “I don’t get a lot of men.”

Joel paused. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. They like the other girls better.”

“Why’s that?”

You shrugged again. “They’re better at fakin it.”

Joel didn’t know how to feel about that answer. He continued to rub your clit, feeling you get slicker. “So what? You do handjobs, blowjobs?”

“Mostly.”

He noticed an uptick in the tone of your voice. “You like doin those?”

“If the guy is cute.”

He slid his fingers from your clit to your entrance to your other hole. He didn’t push in, only pressed against it, and you sighed. “What about this?” he asked, biting his lip. “You like gettin your ass played with?”

You hung your head and nodded. “If they do it right,” you said with another uptick in your tone. 

Joel liked that. “Ever have a train run on ya?” He slid his fingers back to your clit.

“Yeah,” you answered with a whimper. 

“You like it?”

Your breath hitched as Joel’s fingers sped up. “Been through worse.”

“Worse? Here?” Joel asked, wondering what could happen at a brothel that was worse than a gang-bang.

“No just… you know…” you sighed with pleasure. “--in general.” 

Joel furrowed his brows. You were being honest with him. Too honest, in his opinion. But you were rolling your hips into his hand. And he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

He shoved two fingers inside of you without warning. Your body twitched and you moaned–and it was different this time. Quieter. Realer. Joel liked that. He didn’t mind taking his time to get you ready if he knew you would enjoy it. 

“You like fuckin, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” You snickered, pushing back into his thrusting hand.

Joel took a deep breath, maintaining his composure. But he knew then that he wanted you. That you were just what he needed and more.

#######

You liked this Joel guy. He took his time. He was asking you questions, trying to get to know you. You don’t remember the last time anyone had done that. …Well, maybe when you first started working there. Trisha and Carrie and a couple of the other women tried, but this felt different for some reason. Like it was leading somewhere. Like there was a promise at the end of it. Like maybe he really wanted to make you come and he wasn’t just there for himself. 

And you liked his voice. It was smoky and deep. He had an accent like a cowboy. It was comforting, in a way.

And his fingers felt nice. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't remember the last time a guy got you that wet with just his hand.

Part of you felt a little hopeful. You thought you might finally get to have some fun like the other girls did. Most of the guys you got were ugly or just plain ol’ depressing. Another part of you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason. You’re not sure why she kept coming up in your mind. You two never worked together. You barely knew her at all.

-

“You ever fuck the other women here?” Joel asked. 

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in proud affirmation. It even pulled a smile from you. 

“What's that mean?”

You weren’t sure how you expected him to react. You weren’t sure why you answered that way. “It means… yeah,” you replied while embarrassment burned your cheeks. You had barely looked at him before, but now you really didn’t want to see his face.

“Yeah, you like fuckin women?” His voice turned breathy. You heard his buckle jingle and the slide of the zipper of his jeans. 

 It turned you on to know that he liked that. Some men hated it. Made you feel like shit for it. But man, this Joel guy was something else. It made you want more of him. More of his fingers. His voice. His skin. “Yeah,” you moaned and shoved yourself harder into his hands, thrusting his fingers deeper.

“So what? You lick their pussies? Rub your little cunts together?”

Your mouth hung open from his words. “yeah,” you said with a hot breath. He pulled his fingers from inside of you and drew circles on your clit. You started whimpering. You nodded your head as fire burned in your core and across your skin. 

“That’s why you work here, huh? You got a needy little cunt?”

His fingers were moving so fast, the muscles in your legs were jumping and your toes were curling. “Uh-huh,” you moaned loud enough for your voice to echo around the bare room.

“That why you left the Q-Z? This slutty hole wasn’t get fucked enough?” His fingers slid back inside your entrance. You’re not sure how many he stuffed in, but it was more than before. 

You nodded with a desperate moan, your right leg slapping the mattress beneath you in frustration. You needed more. His fingers, his words–they weren’t enough. Your body was hot and sparking and you needed-needed-needed. “Joel, please,” you begged, turning to face him, finally opening your eyes again. He was stroking himself and the sight of his cock made you drool. 

“Whatchu need, sweetheart?” He asked and you could almost kill him for it.  

“Please, please fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Need it that bad, huh?” He kicked off his boots and shoved his pants all the way down to the floor. 

You got out of the way as he crawled into the bed and sat up against the headboard. 

“Come and get this cock, you fuckin slut,” he growled. One hand held his length while the other pulled you by the arm. 

You were too hungry to notice how tightly he gripped you. You hovered over his lap as he lined himself up with your entrance. You stared at the curve of his lips on the way down, the mix of gray and brown hairs in his mustache. But there was white on his cheeks and chin. You briefly wondered how old he was. But you couldn’t bring yourself to get a good look at his face. Too busy melting from the pressure of his cock stretching your walls. Fuck, it felt good. You braced yourself on his firm, wide shoulders and brought your hips back up a few inches before sinking down on his length even further. You groaned and tucked your head into his neck.

#######

You started sucking on his neck and his hips began to thrust up into you.

“It ain’t enough that I’m stuffin your cunt?” he grunted. “You need me in your mouth, too?”

You moaned against his throat, sending goosebumps all over his skin. “Yeah,” you said through panting breaths, before latching back on, teeth and tongue digging into his muscle. 

Joel liked you. He really liked you. You were wet and riding him just right. You weren’t mechanical about it, neither–like Joel was just another job to you. There was a sadness to you, sure. It was probably why you didn’t get a lot of men. Men wanted to forget their troubles at the brothel. Have some fun. They wanted the world outside to disappear with their cock inside a woman.

But Joel had tried that. And it hadn’t worked out so good.

So this time, he looked for someone different. Someone who would understand. Someone who would get why he needed to fuck and when and how he needed to fuck, too. 

And you were telling him everything he needed to know. He was learning what you wanted and what you liked and what he could use to threaten you into compliance. 

He pulled you away from his neck, not sure how he felt about being covered in hickeys. “Here,” Joel prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger. “Suck on this, you greedy little slut.”

And you did, moaning desperately as you rolled your hips in his lap. You gagged as he slid his fingers back and forth on your tongue, saliva spilling from the edges of your lips and down your chin. Your eyes were closed and he knew there was nothing going on in your mind. He knew you were focused on nothing but how good he was making you feel.

You started bouncing on his cock and he slapped your ass with his free hand. He gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, forcing you to stop.

“Did I say you could do that?”

Your eyes popped open–meeting his directly. You tried to pull your head away to answer, but Joel shoved his fingers in even further.

He repeated himself. “You tryin to come right now? Did I say you could?”

You let out a pathetic whine and shook your head.

He slapped your ass again and this time he noticed your pussy clench around him. He heard a small moan grow and die in your throat. “You come when I fuckin say you can come,” he snarled with his teeth clenched. He smacked your asscheek again and thrust up into you. 

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“That turn you on?” He gripped your ass in his hand. “You like takin’ your medicine, bad girl?”

You tried to turn your head, but Joel still had his fingers in your mouth and he held you in place. You looked at him with the most pathetic, pleading look.

“I asked you a question,” Joel growled with wide eyes. His cock twitched inside of you. “You like takin’ your medicine? You like bein told what to do?”

You squeezed your eyes shut again and quietly nodded.

Joel liked that. He liked that a lot. He took his fingers from your mouth and gripped your cheeks. Your eyes popped open again. He licked his lips. “You be a good girl and make me come first, then we’ll see what you get, okay?”

You nodded.

“Now what do you say?”

Your brows furrowed. 

“When I tell you what to do, what do you say?”

Your face softened. You blinked slowly before answering. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s right.” Joel grunted and thrusted his hips. “Now, make me come, you little slut.” His fingers dug into your own hips to guide your rhythm to what he wanted. “Make me come and we’ll see what you get.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” you murmured again and again.

Your warm, wet cunt sucked him in and stroked him. He could hear it, too, how drippy and turned on you were. It wasn’t long before he tossed you off him with a grunt, throwing you onto your back on the bed. He only fisted his cock twice before shooting his spend on your spread open pussy, on the hair on your mound. He wiped his cum down and around on your clit. “Come on, girl. You can come now. Come on,” he chanted. He rubbed your clit back and forth with the flat of his four fingers. “Give that greedy little cunt what it needs. Come on.”

Your body curled in as you orgasmed and you moaned loudly into your arm. Joel didn’t see the need for you to be quiet, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He rubbed you with his thumb until your legs clasped shut and you squirmed away.

He wiped his hands on the sheets and got up from the bed. He pulled his jeans back on, but waited to buckle his belt. He sat back down and put his shoes on.

You were still lying where he left you. Curled up in the fetal position. It almost looked like you were falling asleep. He figured you might as well rest up now. The drive back home was a bumpy one.

He sighed when he stood up. He figured he should get the liquor bottles out of the truck sooner than later. He huffed. Larry was a real piece of shit for trading a woman for liquor. But Joel wanted you. And he was gonna have you.

#######

You were reeling. Sexually, you were satisfied, but every other emotion bursted and channeled itself through your muscles and across your skin. You felt so vulnerable. This man had seen you–seen you! Like you were a real person or something! Like you weren’t just a ghost or a character in a movie! Everything felt wrong and you couldn’t figure out why. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason.

You stayed as still as possible until you heard Joel’s booted footsteps leave the room. You were grateful he didn’t say anything or try to touch you again. Your body trembled as you got out of the bed. You walked on shaky legs to the bathrooms to clean yourself. The world around you was so close and too clear. You could hear and differentiate everyone’s voices in the main room. The air was humid and you could taste it–actually taste it like it was a wet, moldy cloud in your mouth. 

Your hands tremored. You tried to exert control over them, but you were barely able to turn on the sink. You mostly swatted at the faucets until water came out. And there was no comfort to be had in the warm, rushing water. You noticed tension in your cheeks and thought you wanted to cry, but couldn’t make any tears come out.

The woman in the mirror scared you. It was you. You knew it was you. But she felt unfamiliar. Three dimensional. You wanted to run. Run away to the Quarantine Zone or—or anywhere but here.

Then you heard screaming, shrill screams from what had to be one of the other women. Suddenly you were being dragged out of the bathroom. Trisha’s hands were on you. Her fingers were small and thin and her skin was smooth and cold. You had never noticed before.

The lights in the main room were so bright that you could see everything. Every small piece of leather that had flaked off each of the couches and landed on the dirty, carpeted floor. The carpet itself was covered in dust and dirt and leaves. Where did the leaves come from? you wondered. How did they get tracked inside? Weren’t people wiping their shoes like they were supposed to?

There were people moving around. Naked. Half-naked. Clothed. All talking over each other. And blood. Bright red blood. One of the women, with long gold hair, was covered in it, shrieking in pain with both her hands on her hip. Two others guided her past you towards the back. One of Joel’s men was apologizing to Larry. He had black curly hair and a thick mustache. Larry was screaming in his face.

You saw Joel from the back as he pushed himself up from the couch. His shoulder rose and fell with deep, heaving breaths. There was blood dripping from his fist and there was someone beneath him. Once he stepped away, you saw an oblong fleshy ball of bright red where a face should have been. The body beneath the ball didn’t move. 

You folded in half and started heaving. Trisha shrieked in your ear. 

“I’m so sick of you assholes coming here and-and-and-and–” Larry was caught in a loop as he pulled his gun from his pocket. It was a small revolver. You watched his gray-skinned thumb pull back the hammer. “I’m sure! I’m sure!” he yelled over the shouting.

The man with the black curly hair lunged at Larry with a curse. 

The gun-shot stilled everyone in the room. It was loud enough that for a moment, you thought you had been shot. The vibrations pierced you to the very center of your being. But then… Larry was on the floor. Sprinkled with dust from the ceiling tile. And then there was more blood. Bright red blood spilling out from his body. 

You breathed in relief. Not only that you were still alive, but that it was Larry that was dead. For a few beautiful seconds, you felt free. Free from his bullshit and free from the brothel. Free to go back to the quarantine zone and start over again.

Trisha’s smooth fingers pulled one of your arms, but something warm and calloused pulled your other. You looked up, confused. It was Joel. Joel’s hand, which had been on you only minutes previous, felt so strange and unfamiliar. You had just shared a bed with him but–that had been a different man. Certainly different than the one that stood before you now with blood-splattered on his clothes and sweat beading around his temples. 

“You can’t take her!” Trisha cried, tears pouring out her eyes. “You can’t take her!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said. Joel’s eyes looked sad. “She’s mine now.”

Terror fell over you like a cold, biting wind. He was talking about you.

Your body started trembling again. You tried and failed to pull your arm away from his grip. “NO!” You shouted. Your vision went blurry as you sobbed. “Don’t take me! Please!” That was why you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie. Joel had bought Carrie. Trisha had told you that Joel had bought Carrie. But the information hadn’t clicked into place. You had spent so long avoiding your body, avoiding feeling any emotion at all that when it spent all night trying to warn you, you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t feel the siren in your gut telling you to stay away from Joel. And now that siren was loud and clear. But it was far too late for you to do anything about it. “Don’t take me! Pleasepleaseplease!”

Joel didn’t budge. He leaned in real close to you. “Now you told me you like bein told what to do.” Your face went fiery hot with shame. He yanked your arm, pulling you from Tasha’s grip. “And right now, I’m tellin you that you’re comin with me.” He continued to pull you out the front door, towards his truck.

“No! Nonono!” You cried. You tried one more time to shake him off, but it was pointless. He was too strong. You were too weak. And you started to wonder if you could have prevented this or if it was simply your fate. Your own boss hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to these men. What could someone like you have done?

You sobbed into your hands as you sat in the truck. The man with the black curly hair got in the driver’s seat. Joel sat on the other side of you and rubbed your back in some sick attempt at comfort. “You be good for me–” he said, adjusting himself. “--then we’ll see what you get.” 

+++++

a/n: Please let me know if I missed a tag. Also, idk if it's really a DDDNE story or not. ??

story title taken from the song "Mary the Ice Cube" by Primus.

[danikamariewrites]

Just Us

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: part 2 is here! Although I don’t really like calling it a part two because I don’t see it as a series, I don’t have a better name for it so we’re just going to call it a series. I just see this as a universe with ongoing stories/one-shit fics and headcanons lol. Thank you for all the love this is getting though! I’m so happy so many of you want to be tagged for these posts ❤️

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

Digging out another option from Mor’s closet I start to panic. Azriel will be here in two hours to pick me up and it feels like every part of me is sweating from nerves. I wipe my hands on my leggings so I can grip the velvet hanger better. I turn to face the chaos Mor and Feyre have created. 

Shoes from each of their closests and mine, eyeshadow pallets, and even more clothing options cover every inch of Mor’s bedroom. It’s all so…intimidating. I’ve been on dates before, but none of those guys were ever worth half the effort I’m putting in for Azriel. Which is probably why I’m freaking out more than normal. 

As I lay out the dress on Mor’s bed my ears finally pick up what Feyre is joyously rambling about. “And then Gavin just backed off. I have never him seen him humbled so fast Mor, oh my gods. It was hilarious.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. It was refreshing to see Gavin put in his place. Especially by someone like Azriel. 

I circle the bed eyeing my endless options for dresses. My attention lands on one of Feyre’s black velvet cocktail dresses. It has a corset type bodice with tank top straps and a pleated skirt. It’s perfect. 

Picking it up I break out into a wide grin. Feyre and Mor notice looking at me like proud parents. “What?” I ask with a slight giggle. “It’s just…you’re going on a real date. With a real man. I just feel so proud.” Mor squeaked out, wiping away fake tears. 

I shake my head letting out a shaky sigh. “I like this one, can I wear it, Fey?” “Of course babe. This is going to look amazing on you.” She starts gathering the other dresses as Mor begins to look for shoes to match. Sitting me on the bed Feyre grabs my face and purses her lips in thought. “How do you feel about a very light Smokey eye?” 

A knock on the front door - approximately two hours later - breaks my focus from applying mascara. “I’ll get it!” Mor yells from the living room. Just a few more strokes and I’ll be done. My hand shakes from anticipation. Maybe if I take longer he’ll get impatient and I won’t have to go. 

No, don’t think like that. I deserve a nice date. I shake my body and check myself over in the mirror one last time. I look hot thanks to my best friends' combined effort. “Ok,” I whisper. 

Heading out to the living room I can hear Mor and Feyre talking with him. Gods, I hope they’re avoiding embarrassing topics. When I round the corner my steps stutter. It’s not Azriel in the living room. It’s one of the males he brought into the gallery. The larger one of the two who winked at me. “There she is!” Mor said in a sing-song voice. 

I walk forward and the male reaches his hand out for me to shake. “Hi y/n, I’m Cassian.” I take his hand, his calluses are rough against my palm as I shake his hand. “Hi, I remember you from the gallery. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s Azriel?” I hate how small my voice sounds as I ask but I don’t want Cassian to feel like I’m not trusting him or his boss. Cassian smiles at me. “He’s already at the restaurant, he just sent me to pick you up.” I nod and say goodbye to Mor and Feyre before they push me out the door. 

Cassian opens the car door for me, taking my hand to help me up into the high SUV. I thank him before he shuts the door. The ride over to the restaurant was fast and quiet. I think Cassian could tell I’m nervous. When we pull up I notice the small parking lot was oddly empty. 

I audibly swallow, staring out the window at the front door. Cassian opens the door smiling at me with a boyish grin. “Cassian, can I ask you something?” “Sure thing.” Concern flashes across his face. The scar above his brow crinkling in. “I just…is he…” I can’t find the right words to ask my question correctly. Cassian seemed to pull himself up straighter. “I know you know his job but he’s not cruel. Azriel can be guarded at first but I think you’ll get through to him easily. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He smiles at me again, squeezing my hand in encouragement. I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “You’ve only seen me twice.” “That’s all I need. I know my brother.” 

I nod and take Cassian’s hand again to step out of the car and he ushers me into the restaurant. As I look around I notice the dining room is empty. Most of the tables look like they have been cleared out so a special table could be set up in the middle of the room. Azriel is speaking to the chef and a male I assume is the owner. 

Cassian clears his throat behind me to get Azriel’s attention. When he turns it feels like all the air has been sucked from my lungs. My heart flutters at the bright smile he gives me. His hazel eyes light up as they look me up and down. I finally start breathing again when he stops in front of me. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating. The warm vanilla tones mixed with a light spice fills my nostrils. It’s comforting and makes me want to curl up next to him to breathe it in more. 

Azriel takes my hands in his large scarred ones, bringing them up to his lips to press light kisses across my knuckles. I didn't notice the scars marring them before. They were beautiful. Like a torrent, restless ocean. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.” A blush heats my cheeks, a small smile appearing on my lips from his compliment. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.” 

He drops my hands holding his arm out for me to take like he did in the gallery two days ago. Azriel continues being the gentleman that he is and pulls my seat out for me, pushing me back in, and listens to my answers when he asks me about myself. When it was my turn I asked about his childhood, which seemed to be quite normal given the amount of money his family has. I also couldn’t help but ask why the restaurant was empty.

Azriel sheepishly smiled, looking at his entree for a moment before admitting he bought the place out for the night. “I prefer first dates to be more…intimate, if you will.” I let out a hum, “So you do this for all the girls.” I joke. Azriel looked panicked for a moment. “No,” he got out quickly, “This is, you’re the first one I’ve ever done this for actually.” His voice getting quieter at the end.

My heart leaps at the confession. No one has ever put that much thought into a date with me before and I told him how much I appreciate this.  

“So, how did you get into art?” He asks over dessert. A delicoius crème brûlée with a perfect golden brown sugar coating. I break it with my spoon as I think about how to phrase my answer. "I've always loved art no matter what form it comes in. Paintings, sculpture, digital, all that stuff. I like that people appreciate something pretty or one of a kind, so if I can help them get their hands on it, it makes me happy."

I look at him, shoveling the sweet creamy treat in my mouth. Azriel smiles at me adoringly. Those hazel eyes twinkling with what I'd like to think is love. "That's amazing. Besides the two I got, how many paintings have you sold?" I let out a short, cold laugh thinking about how pissed Gavin was that I made a sale. "You were my first customer. and probably my last. As I know you heard my boss say I'm just an intern. I really should've called him but it was the end of the day so what was the harm."

Azriel shook his head. A dissaproving look takes over his beautiful face as he remembers the scene he walked in on yesterday. "I was ready to punch him." Azriel admits. "He had no right to talk to you like that. But I must say, you were a natural my dear. I probably wouldn't have bought the paintings wihtout your knowledge on them."

"Thank you." I say surprised that soemone didn't find my knowledge about art annoying.

When we finished the chef came out to say goodbye along with the owner. Azriel offered me his arm again but I took a chance twinning my fingers through his. We glance down at our joined hands. I smile lightly at the comfort I feel when I hold it. Azriel looks shocked that I would even go near his hands. "Is this ok?" I ask softly. He seems at a loss for words just nodding and staring at me like a boy realizing he has a crush for the first time.

The whole car ride back to my apartment Azriel doesn't let go of my hand. I rest them on my lap and gently rub my thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. When Cassian comes to stop in front of my apartment my heart sinks. I don't want Azriel to go. I'm not ready for tonight to be over.

"I got it Cass." Azriel says before Cassian can unbuckle. He leads me up the short steps, stopping on the landing. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Feyre and Mor crouched down on the couch. Their eyes just peeking over the window sill. Ignoring them I turn my attention back to Azriel who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we left the restaurant.

He slips his other hand in mine pulling me slightly closer to him. “I had a wonderful time with you. And I really want to see you again.” Without hesitation I say yes, “I’d love to.” Azriel’s smile seemed to get wider. I must say, he’s not at all what I thought he’d be like. Not knowing how to say goodbye we stumble over our words for a moment until Azriel’s expression became serious. His face mere inches from mine now. “Can I kiss you, y/n.” Something about my name on his lips just seemed so right. “Yes,” I whisper.

Azriel’s lips are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The kiss is soft yet passionate and full of a desire I don’t think either of us would be able to sate. Pulling away for air I feel Azriel’s hands slip down my neck and pull away from my body. I hadn’t realized he was holding me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I nod, speechless. The air once again sucked from my lungs.

I slowly open the front door giving him a small wave before shutting it. Leaning against the wood I listen for his graceful retreating footsteps, the car door, and the engine as Cassian takes off down the street.

My heart won’t stop pounding. I rest a hand over my chest, a stupid smile on my lips as I’m off in my own fantasy world.

tags (accounts I couldn’t tag in bold): @amara-moonlight @harrystylesfan2686 @kalulakunundrum @thinkingofmatthewfairchild @just-a-social-casualty-1 @insecuritieeseatmealive @teenageeggscissorslawyer @theladystardust @thehighladywrites @callmeblaire @luell1q @meshellexplosionmurder @verena9003 @starsinyoureyes @mich0731 @yourfutur3lov3r @samanthalynn13 @enchantedatheart

[blueparadis]

❝ GHOST TOWN ❞ + GETO SUGURU ❪ playing ⌗4, ⌗5& ⌗6 ❫─── via radio line ❛ anatomy of emotions ❜〳 from this is what ____ feels like !

[ content & themes ] ::abo au + modern au, f!omega!reader,strangers to strangers sharing one-night-stand, unrequited feelings,abo marriage & courting rituals, hurt and angst, misunderstandings, smut, mcd. 10k word count.

[ synopsis ] :: Years after, you get a wedding invitation from one of your childhood friends; hoping to rekindle some old flames, you decide to attend the wedding yet the looming shadow of tragedies still followed you. But this time, there was someone who would lick your wounds. 

[ notes ] :: i started this wip around june and since then it has been full of battles for me. Feels good to finish the first part of this. I really hope that next year is kinder than this one. thought i would not be able to finish until the Feb'2024 but here we are, so enjoy and tell me how you liked it :)) & if you have made this far then, congratulations. Stay tuned for next part, dk when will i'll be able to start writing on it, but I do wanna write part two badly SO please don't jinx it. \\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\ tagging @onisae @orchid3a

This year again, there is spring; flowers are blooming on every branch of those lonely trees, the sun is smiling, and the chirping of the birds can be heard. People are soaking themselves in this nice weather, they are welcoming it as they should, walking hand in hand in the neon-pinned streets during evenings, leaving footprints on the sand, taking selfies, and making memories to remember for the years to come, as they should; as they hope it to be. Yes, Everything is so hopeful; everything is outrageously lustrous. But for Geto Suguru, it is not. For him, the earth had already stopped turning since the advent of last spring as if the cogs of the winter suddenly started to rot with rust and now it is just blocked; the winter never stopped weeping since then and the spring never came to soothe the mourning. Geto takes a glance at the clock in the room. Nanami is busy picking up the dresses and sorting them by the hierarchy as well as the theme of rituals of the marriage ceremony which is about to commence within an hour.

“C’mon, you can’t leave just like this. The ceremonies. . . the rituals. They’re going to start soon. You can’t just leave. We need you. You’re important.” Kento finally stopped fidgeting with the clothes when Geto bothered to glance at him through the mirror amused by his tone. It is not common for Nanami to lose his composure. He is always calm and collected and never loses his cool. But today is different. Today is his day. He is going to marry the love of his life, Miss Haibara. So, he is supposed to panic, isn't that right?

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Geto conceded, adjusting his hair to tie it up in a bun. Nanami’s mouth parts in a form of protest but he is slower than usual. Before Nanami could follow him, Geto was already out of the dressing room lost in the crowd.

"But where exactly are you going, Geto-san?" Yu Haibara asked blocking his way as he turned up through the back door.

"To meet a friend," Geto remarks in a low growl and leaves.

Seeing his dearest friend, Nanami frowns he quips, "That's okay. Worry not when I'm here,"  keeping his hand on Kento's shoulders as a sign of assurance.

"Shouldn't you be with your sister?" Nanami quipped with pinched eyebrows.

"Well, boys are not allowed there." Haibara saunters around the room and then settles on an armchair situated on the balcony. "Plus you look like could use some help."

“I just need a house tour,” Nanami claimed as he shuffled through his clothes again. His eyes peered and stilled at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. "do you know your way around here? I mean have you been in Geto-san's house before?"

"Oh! you can trust me on this one." Haibara chuckles nervously realizing how his dearest friend and soon-to-be brother-in-law asks for that one thing he can not help with. Nanami smiles. It is amusing how he is so worked up for his sister's wedding and is trying his best to keep it together rather than sabotaging it, unlike certain someone.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Pal." 

Geto hops onto his jeep staring at the crowd of the elderly people who came to give their blessings. He specifically went through the back door of the house to avoid any kind of attention, especially attention from those elderly people who would not hesitate to question his whereabouts. And that is exactly what he needs to avoid for now. Questions. Stupid questions. He had enough of his own on his plate that demanded answers. With all the waves of memories crashing at the shore of his mind he passed through those familiar streets of his hometown. It has been a year and a half since the incident yet it lays heavy on his mind, like a freshly dropped flower. He halted near the graveyard. The Sakura trees surrounding the graveyard are blushing. He walked into the cemetery, hearing cries and howls of agonies as he passed by some gravestones. There is something with these hospitals and cemeteries that always makes him uncomfortable. Of course, it is supposed to make anyone uncomfortable; death and loss are two sides of the same coin. You can not go at the expense of the other. He has always hated visiting his mom at the hospital when he was a kid. His mother was at the hospital not because she was sick but because she was expecting, but at such a tender age Suguru could barely understand the seriousness of it all. For, his mom left him and when she came back, she would be with his father and his baby brother. But they never came home, just like the spring. When he halted in front of a particular burial his cassette of vague childhood memories ceased to play.

The tombstone read:

SATORU GOJO.

7TH DEC 1989 - 27TH DECEMBER 2016.

“THE ONE AND ONLY.”

Geto tasted bile at the back of his throat. It has been a year and six months already. Still, he has not checked any of the things that Satoru left behind, not even talked to his mother and neither was at his funeral. This is the first time he is visiting Satoru’s grave. During their high school years, there was not a single instance when Geto looked at his right side and found it empty. Satoru was always there beside him, whether busy talking the on phone or busy picking on him or was just there. Now, Geto stands with no one by his side. After high school, they parted ways due to work. And one day, when he collected his phone from the icing centre on his way home after a long day of work, his phone had died with messages, voice missed calls and emails. All of them said one thing: 'Satoru Gojo is dead.'

-

Solitude is lethal. It is very addictive. It becomes a habit after one realizes how peaceful and calm it is. It is like when one does not want to deal with people anymore because they just drain energy in the end. But noin yn has grown bored in the bubble she has created around herself. Now all she wants is to burst the bubble without hurting anyone, not even herself. But on the other hand, if thinly did take a wild turn then what more could add to your irrevocable loss that would hurt you to the point of disintegration?

The cab halted with a huge jerk. Turning his head the driver bore an apologetic smile. After a few futile attempts, it was evident from his face that the cab broke, and that too in the middle of nowhere. Still, you hoped for him to fix it because it would be a hassle to carry all the luggage towards the venue. The place is morbid and dull. You travelled as far they could and Bingo!  There was a Jeep parked outside a cemetery but other than that there was not a single soul. You, the driver, and the broken cab. The Jeep suggested someone should be nearby but after walking a few steps toward the end of the long stretch of the cemetery, you did not see anyone. Running out of options, you checked the destination on Google Maps. It is almost okay. But with all the luggage it would take you half an hour and booking another cab or waiting for another supplementary ride seemed tiring. After ten hours of flight, you just longed for sleep. Without wasting further time on thinking you started to walk reluctantly. After almost ten minutes you heard the noise of a car, a Jeep. You waved in the hopes of getting a lift but he did not stop. He took the turning into a smaller road. With his sunglasses on you could not tell if ly saw you or not. It is hard to miss a person on an empty road but you're experienced to be different. His lips were moving, so he might be busy talking and seemed to be in a hurry or a rich jerk who was perhaps humming ignoring a damsel in distress.

When you reached the venue you noticed the same red jeep parked in the backyard. The numbers are the same. Realizing the guy is also a guest in this marriage ceremony made you scrunch up your nose. Of course, what did you expect? Wherever you go, trouble follows. The preparations were still going on. You stood at one corner scanning through the crowd hoping to see your friends. A staff was distributing banners and some guests were getting ready for photos. He handed one to you. The place was crawling with alphas and omegas. Even Betas. You still could not see any familiar faces and certainly, it made you restless. You turned on your heel to ask one of the staff for help but something blocked your path. A man, tall and broad, radiating off an awful scent shamelessly; an alpha. You looked up, up and blinked once, twice and thrice. He is wearing a thin white shirt and black slacks, a typical staff uniform but he can not be just a staff here with a lavish red jeep and an aura full of arrogance. His buttons are unevenly done, plus, there are lipstick marks under his collarbones. This man who ignored you at the turning of the road extended his arms as if he were to carry you in bridal style.

“Excuse me,” you yelled, taken aback by his behaviour.

Geto Suguru who noticed you from afar, your restlessness scooted backwards. “And, then the girls say we, the men, don't listen to women.” Pointing towards the banner you held in your hand he pouted. It read — “PICK ME UP” Reading it you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh no! I was just standing here. And one of the guys handed this to me— Suguru closed the gap between you and him again, extended his hands in the pretence of scooping you again. “Hey. Listen to me. I — am — still — talking,” You stammered leaning away from him. Suguru smiled at you, amused at your reactions and the symphony of his laughter managed to reach your heart. He looked like the moon who was searching for the sea waves.

“Y/N.” Your ears perked up on that familiar high note. You would not forget that voice even if you wanted to. “Utaah!” you screamed merrily running towards your saviour. Utahime hugged you. Shoko, who was hiding behind Utahime, peered at you. Her eyebrows jumped twice in amusement. She has not changed a bit, the same unbothered eyes and lack of enthusiasm in her body.  “What took you so long?” The bride squealed, dragging Shoko in a group hug.

“Sho, are you okay?” you asked. She always used to run away from hugs. Guess, people do change in the company of others. Shoko managed to pull out her hand to give you a thumbs up with a smirk laced upon her face. She has not changed, not even a bit.

The bride, Miss Haibara immediately called a few staff to help you with the luggage and your room. She did not even have to say anything. All she did was to wave her hand and you knew you did not have to worry anymore. For a Beta, she is one of a kind. Everything is sorted now. You need not worry anymore except for one thing. That guy; managed to get on your nerves earlier and is now actively involved in the preparations, quite interactive with the groom. From their interactions, you could tell they had known each other for years.  Maybe since childhood. Things are not looking good from this angle.

-

The guests kept arriving till the evening. Generally, it would have been different if this was an actual wedding venue. But, a week ago the manager informed Nanami that they booked the wedding venue twice on the same date. There were some technical faults in the system due to which the software did not show that the date was already booked so, one of the parties had to cancel. Unfortunately, it was Nanami and Haibara's family. Surprisingly, one of Nanami’s friends owned this massively gorgeous house to do the deed without any hassle. But, they had to make some changes and now here you are, sitting by the pool going through your schedule as they fix the lights in your room. Five days. Within five days you should be hearing from the company you applied for the job. Locking the phone, taking a deep breath, and stretching your muscles you intended to go to your room, but a squared blue sachet caught your attention. It was near one of the feet of the table. ‘DUREX’ was written on it. A moment later you saw Geto coming outside and scanning the place. He strolled towards the table. You hid the condom under your notebook as he inspected the table. Not to seem suspicious and rude you asked, “Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah. A friend.” Geto responded with a reflex as he looked under the table.

“Uhm, under the table?” You exclaimed with a meek laughter, unable to hold it in anymore.

Geto stood near you tilting his head at you. He supported his weight by keeping one of his arms on the table and leaned towards you. “Where is it?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual.

“What was the name of your friend again? Doesn’t it start with ‘C’?”

He crouched down a bit, repeating his demand. “Give.it.back.” You could almost hear him growl.

“Didn’t you forget to say ‘please’ ?”

The crease on Geto’s forehead increased further. He stood with his hands resting on the back of his waist, his tongue swirling inside his mouth thinking if there would be any store open nearby. He would rather buy another one than say please but then again, he hates to keep the omega waiting. “Can I have it back?” He bit the corner of his bottom lip before finally caving in, “Please?”

“Good boy.” You chimed looking away from his piercing gaze, shifted the pages of your notebook so that he could take it. He snatched it in a flash and walked back towards the building.

“You’re welcome. Have fun” You yelled, making him pause. He probably rolled his eyes again but you could not have known that.

“Oh, I will.” He shouted back. “I definitely will,” Geto said under his breath, growling.

-

It was two o’clock and you have been staring at the ceiling for a while now. The network was down otherwise listening to music and going to sleep would be easy. Shoko and Utahime were probably sleeping like a log. Your friend and bride was perhaps awake but tomorrow is her day so she probably took a pill and went to sleep. You were barely ten when you met them, and the cogs of fate turned against you when you had to leave this town at the age of fifteen. But those ten years would be the most refreshing ones you had in this lifetime before the tragedy befell. With all those memories bubbling at the back of your mind, you could not sleep. Maybe a walk in the lawn might tire you out. With that in mind, you headed out of your room into the pool area. The adjacent grassy lawn was crowded with lights. They were flickering but as you walked past those lights, they stopped flickering. Those lights were not there before when you were drawing the designer dresses. There was also a glass of chocolate milkshake on the table. Without bubbles sedimenting on the skin of the glass suggested that it had already reached at room temperature.

“Not bad,” A voice turned up. As you turned around you were blessed with the sight of the man who managed to tick you off this morning. “Could have been more beautiful but yeah, that will do.” He added fixing his eyes on you and then gauging you that did earn him a glare as well as a questioning tilt of your brows. Geto understood the congestion of your confusion. You must be thinking how audacious of him to try to flirt with you just after having freshly fucked.  “Oh no. not you. I meant the lights,” he added. You did not budge.

He offered, “Chocolate milkshake?” holding the glass. Still no pinnable reaction. You walked towards him and stopped at an arm’s length saying, “I think you need it more.” eyeing him up and down, from his well-built shoulders to his torso and then, backwards. “For stamina,” you added. With that as you walked past him.

“Why don’t you check it by yourself?” he whispered but you could hear him anyway. You bit the inner flesh of your lip holding back the response at the tip of your tongue because you knew he is just testing the waters, caging you into a corner and assessing your reactions, your heightened senses, and everything. You would hate it if you purposely gave what he wanted, whatever he desired from you to get by ticking you off. You will be leaving this god-damn town in a few days, forever and the last thing you want is a random hook-up that could keep your hopes up. You clicked your tongue. Swearing under your breath you murmured, “I’m already bored anyways.”

The next morning when you woke up, Shoko was already in your room. She was sitting at the foot of your bed scrolling through her phone. “Morning butterfly.” With her stoic face, she kept herself busy on the phone while you rolled to a side soaking in the warmth of the blankets and half-asleep state. “It’s already 8:30. You’re late.” You sprung up on your bed like a cat with its mouth hanging open. Shoko smiled. “Oh dear! Do you still fall for this? You’re still such a baby.” Your heart was pounding against your chest, blood rushing through your veins vigorously as you were still sinking into reality.

“Shooo, I was having a nice dream,” You whined getting out of bed. After taking a shower and getting ready you accompanied her for breakfast. Utahime, Haibara, Nanami and his bride were already there. Someone was missing but given the circumstances of the last night if he did not show up at all during breakfast you would not be so surprised. Greeting everyone good morning you took a seat next to Utahime. Shoko sat beside you. This mansion, owned by that guy, looked so different during daylight. There were no people, no hubbub no prying eyes and most importantly, no questioning faces and company which seemed to be present in abundance at such occasions like this.

“Nice house.” You remarked with a smile looking at Nanami. You have only seen him in video calls, whenever your friend used to call you but now that you are seeing him in person you can feel how much he is every bit of the goodness she spoke of.

“It’s Geto’s.” He responded taking butter toast from the master plate.

“What’s his full name?” you asked drinking in the beauty of his house as you fidgeted with your plate.

“Suguru Geto.” a male voice emerged from your back.

“What?” You gasped. Suguru was standing behind you. His presence was so overwhelming. He was standing right behind you and you did not even feel it like other times, like those two encounters. So, he has control on his pheromones; he is not just some spoiled rich brat.

“My name. Suguru Geto” He repeated as he stood beside you for a second, locking his eyes with you, and then continued to walk away from you to take a seat opposite to you. You smiled to yourself as embarrassment seeped deep into your bones. Shoko cleared her throat giving you a knowing look. Suguru kept piling up food on his plate while you were almost done with your breakfast. Six slices of butter toast, two half-boiled eggs, and a bowl of chicken soup. When he looked for the salt, his eyes landed on yours which were on his plate.

“I have a big appetite this morning.” He uttered in low breath reading your thoughts. Your eyes immediately flashed at him, nose inflated as you grabbed a glass of juice shooting him a warm smile. You excused yourself as soon as you could. Any longer than this, and you would have to talk with him. You better flee before he tries to spin another web of his chram around you. Something tells you he is not good as he seems to be.

-

Nanami is dressed in hakama, wearing a face mask covering his eyes and nose, not the mouth. The bride has the same mask but of different color, color of her choice. He stares at the phtoframe laying on the bed side table. It has a picture of a woman, he knows her. Suguru enters his room, halts noticing Nanami fully dressed and staring at the phto.

"isn't this gojo-san's mother?" Nanami asks looking at Suguru who is busy adjusting his hand cufflings.

"Yes."

"Oh! these anklets, i remember these anklets." Nanami points out touching her feet in the picture. "Gojo-san had all of us begging to get him these from his mom and then finally he asked you." Nanami looks at Suguru posing a question, "don't you remember?"

"Yes. I do." Suguru answers gravely taking the photo from Nanami's hand and giving him a box. It contains a necklace which he is suppossed to give it to his bride, tonight.

Nanami's lips went flat, he knows he is stepping into a place where he should not yet he asks, "don't you know to whom Gojo-san gave those anklets?" Suguru keeps the photoframe inside the cupboard feezing in place. The door of the cupboard is still open and he has not turned around. He knows, if he does he has to face something he does not want to, his last meet with himself, his last words to him, a constant loop he often sees in his sleep.

"Let's go, everyone." Haibara yells filling the deadly silence. "The ceremony is about to begin." And then walks away shooting both of them a smile. Nanami clear his throat and checks himself for one last time in the mirror.

"Don't worry. You look just fine," Suguru exclaims with tight smile on his face. Nanami just shakes his head releasing an exhale and then, leaves. Suguru closes the cupboard and follows. The less he opens that particular cabinet, the better.

People have gathered here for this auspicious ceremony. Nanami and Miss Haibara will be tieing threads on each other's hands after removing the mask that they were supposed to wear throughout the whole ritual. Geto watches them as they slowly walk towards the centre of the venue, thinking was it all so necessary to do this? He even asked Haibara about it and he said how some traditional rituals are need to be done to be a part of the clan, and they themselves wanted to do it so the other family members are just showing their support by being present in the ceremony. The main modern wedding would be held two days later. Geto notices that you walk away holding a glass of chmapange as soon as the ceremony begins. You have been drinking for a while, he has noticed it. You went towards the exit, outside the house where there are no crowds, no eyes, no people and no questions.

Haibara leans towards Geto whispering, "Now, they're going to exchange traditional jewellery that has been passed down since generations."

Geto just gives him a nod and suddenly, Nanami's words echo at the back of his mind,"don't you know to whom Gojo-san gave those anklets?" He gulps, his vision becomes blur for a second and before it gets worse he stands up, smiling towards Haibara he excuses himself out of the ceremonial arena. He walks towards a less crowded place where nobody can see him, nobody will know about him and then he picks up a sweet alluring scent. He lets his eyes scan the place around,and then spots a woman dressed in red dress standing by the pavement.

"Hi" Suguru greets and his eyes go wide seeing you. He notices a whole wine bottle in your hand. Ahh!that's why. He must admit you have a very oddly sweet scent. But why are you here? Maybe you are waiting to meet someone, perhaps your lover, or your alpha otherwise why would you let your scent hit the air so freely. He can not help but think why you are alone, here, out in the cold.

"Oh! hi" You greet.

"waiting for someone?"

"what?" You say and then pick up on his cue. "No, no. Just having some fresh air,"

"Do you mind?" He asks letting his eyes scrutinize your body from head to toe extending his hand to his collar, freeing the button.

"what?" You yell."absolutely not. what're you even thinking?" Suguru scoffs as you misunderstand his intentions, giving you the shawl to you. "This is ridiculous." You add and then turn on your heel to leave but a warm shawl wraps around your body. You look at him and find him inches away surprised that he picked up on the fact that you were cold; not only that, you were cold and drinking to keep yourself warm, even got your hormores worked up for that, but generally it is said that an alpha's presence soothes an omega but what exactly would you hope for when everything around you keeps dying?

"I don't know if it's the alcohol, but you don't seem that bad now." you mutter.

"Thanks?" Geto shoots you his heartwarming smile. "How drunk are you?"  He can smell the alcohol on you now.

"Can I kiss you?" 

"WOAH! A lot, okay." he exlaims with utmost amusement but then, notices that you are staring at him, and as you do your smile keeps stretching. 'okay. now YN is just teasing me'. You laughter finally breaks as you finish the rest of the champange.

"Are you really laughing at me Miss Y/N L/N?"

"umm-hmmm" you nod and glup before saying, "What're you gonna do about it?" Geto looks at you, studies you, thinks you really do not have any idea who exactly you are you messing with. He takes a few steps towards you taking the bottle from your hand.

"Nothing. do you want me to do something about it?" There is a pout on your face; your eyes are not at him anymore but a little downwards, on his hand upon the bottle he is holding.

"No,"

"but you're thinking about it," Geto presses further.

"nope." You shake your head in denial.

"so, you do not think about me?"

"nuh-huh"

Geto inclines a little, near your ear and whisperes, "but i have so many improper thoughts about you,YN." As he retreats he watches your eyes go wide, eyebrows stretch upwards and lips part. Geto could not control himself anymore. It was his turn to laugh seeing your face fall like that as if you have seen a ghost. "God. i can't belive you fell for it," You let him drink in the petty victory he just had and then carefully ask so that he does not mis-hear neither misunderstand.

"what did you mean when you said you had improper thoughts about me?"

"It was just a joke-he says and you take a step towards him. He backs away. As you take another step you notice him grabbing the bottle of the neck firmly and step away.

"So," you utter,"you think about me? Well, there is nothing wrong with that but," You pause and he waits for you to continue.

"What would you do if i said yes?" Geto asks unable to bear what were you about to say next and whatever that may be.

You smile and it ticks him off further. "How about i show you how improper are my thoughts about you?" He watches your smile fade instantly and then silence surrounds you both but not for long, "Its such a shame, that i can't show you 'cause i don't think you can . . ." He mouths the rest, "have sex with me."

Naturally you protest. Nobody likes losing at bed so Suguru grabs your hand and drags you to the nearest room in this mansion. It is a spare room perhaps, at least its clean and there is a bed.

"what're we doing here?" He asks pushing you onto the bed. You sit at the edge of the bed.

"you tell me," Your words slur a little. "you dragged me into this room." Your heart beats pick up the light-speed as he locks the door.

Geto chuckles at your half-drowsy state saying, "If you are so hesitant to say the word, will you even do it right ?" He stands at the edge of the bed, tucking your hair as you look at him . . . so blur with each blink . . . and so big

"Why not? Why not I do it? I do it multiple times," Geto licks his lips holding back his smile.

"And what's that gonna be?" He puts emphasis on 'what' pulling away the shwal that covered the beauty of your off-shoulder dress. He gets on his knees to get a very view of your expressions, because you keep avoiding his eyes. It's adorable.

"Sl-sl-sleepex"

"What?" Geto's laughter echoes in the room. "You can't even say sex,"

You glare at him and wrap your arms around his nape. "sleepex" you repeat.

"Stop. you're making it sound cute,"

"Say that, i'm hot."

"i'm hot," Geto says with stren voice, serious look on his face watching you glow in laughter like a pearl in an oyaster. "Y/N, are you sure you wanna do this?" He carefully lays you on the bed with one of his toned muscular arms wrapping around your waist while your hands wrap his shoulders.

"Of course i'm. i'm not doing this because i dont have to prove anything to anyone. I'm doing this for myself. I'm strong enough to do this," You move your eyes towards him, continuing "it's supposed to get better, right? but when? when does that happen? and when it happens please tell them. will you tell them?"

"umm-hmm" Geto just hums.

"Yes, please tell them." You murmur, your chest heavs and then as you exhale exhaustion lulls you into sleep.

"Y/N?"

The next morning as you wake, a terrible weight attracts your head back to pillow.

"Morning babe," A deep voice jerks you awake. Geto Suguru, half-naked, standing near the bed holding a glass of maybe a hangover cure

"what're you doing in my room?" you tartly ask. "and why aren't you dressed?"

"well, i wish i could only if you give me back my haori,"

"what exactly happend last night?"

"don't you remember?" Geto sits at the edge of the bed, his hand chinning you up. "I have never heard my name in so many acoustics," Your eyes go wide and just when you are about to say something Geto puts a finger against your lips, but does not touch them. "You were drunk, you fell asleep and i slept in the other room,"

"who changed my dress?" you ask doubting him unable get off this feeling of uneasiness.

"I did," Shoko answers entering the room. She pulls Geto's ear saying, "why did you tell her so soon? The fun was just getting started," Geto grabbed her hands and pulled her into the bed, and the jumping out of the bed. Before disappearing, he exclaims, "I'll tell why,what, where and everything if you tell me about how long you and Utahime have been fucking?"

"You stupid boy. Its called dating," she protests and jumps out of the bed following him leaving you alone with your thoughts. what the fuck just happened? moreover, uta and sho are fucking, dating? for how long?

Today there is no ceremony but a celebration for annoucning the wedding in different clans. Those who value and only prefer traditional wedding, they are here today. When you finally join the guests, you spot Geto swarmed by men you do not recognize. He looks a little disturbed, restless. You have not been able to talk to him since the failed prank night. Part of you is grateful for not taking advantage of you in your drunk state, while the other part is just curious to know what would he have done if you were not drunk. So, you cook up some courage and finally when he is alone you walk up to him to talk.

"Hi,"

"Hello"

"I just wanted to thank you for-"

"-for not taking advantage of your drunk state?" He finishes your line and then bites his bottom.

"Yeah. however, improperly you thought of having me," You add further.

He clicks his tongue,"about that," and then a chuckle follows.

"Getou-san," You call him pasuing his laughter, having his eyes on you, "I'm not drunk today,"

"Yeah? but we have a lot of -

"Perhaps you didn't hear it well,"

"I'm not drunk today," He repeats your words realizing the meaning behind it but then his eyes shift towards Miss Haibara who is currently speaking to Mahito. Mahito, that fucker, who invited him here?

"excuse me, i'll just be back in a minute," As he excuses himself you notice him talking to the bride for a while and then he dashes out of the arena. When you follow him, you find him standing against the pool side alone looking at the water.

"Geto-san?" you call but he does not answer. So, you touch his arm and he jerks it off instantly. "Relax, its just me," you say but when his eyes fell on you, it is so distant as if you are seeing him for the first time. He seems like a totally different person.

"Tsk," Geto clicks his tongue and then leaves without saying a word. You stood there for a while and then, quitely you joined your friends. Yeah, that is what you have been doing since day one, talking and chatting with friends, catching up with them. But they are all busy, Shoko and Utahime are together at a table, Haibara is talking and attending the guests, Mei-Mei busy getting some guy's attention. He must be someone rich. You are just all alone. Your eyes scan all the guests and then stills at a particular figure. A tall man with white hair, eye so as blue as the sky, wearing a wedding suit, the diamond shining on his ring finger and he shoots a smile at you. You start to walk towards him but something stop you, Shoko's hand. "Y/N you okay? you look as if you've seen a ghost," she is so blur right now. You close your eyes and then open looking at his direction; he is gone. It has been a while since Satoru has not visited you for a while. Even now, as you try to uproot him from your life he comes boucning back. When this is going to end? when will be over him? why did he had to leave anyways that day?

It is almost midnight. You are as usual at the pool side, but today you are here for a reason. The sky tonight is adorned with stars and among those million stars two of them would be your parents. You heard a set of footsteps knowing full well in your gut that who could it be. "can't sleep?" You registered his presence as he sat beside you but you did not bother to answer him right away. "I was looking for you," Suguru added; turning your head in his direction you smiled. He swore his heart just stopped for a second. Maybe you are angry or gonna yell at him or slap him or maybe do nothing at all, just ignore him which is the worst.

"In the middle of the night? what for?" You pause to inspect his expression for a moment. Suguru tries to say something. He still feels bad about how he walked away from you in the middle of the ceremony. He will get an earful from Kento and Yu tomorrow for abandoning the ceremony like that, but what unsettles him is the fact that he hurt you; he knows he did, and he can see it on your face even now. He has fucked omegas, even betas before and never before has he had to cross so many bumps. Perhaps, it is harder because you are connected to his friend's circle.

Suguru's eyes glanced downwards. He picks his nails before grabbing your hand to pull it upon his face, "I wanted to see you."

"I think I missed you." There is confusion lingering in his eyes as your palms remain fisted. You slowly let your fingers touch his skin pushing him to the point of closing his eyes. His head arches, and tilts before his lips peck your palms.

"I don't have your friend with me tonight." You say and it seems that he knew what exactly you meant. He does not answer just stares, longer than usual. Did he think that you'd let him fuck without protection?  It is such a shame that you think so; did Suguru want to see you just for the sex, just to keep the end of his bargain or whatever silly challenge you two had? He is now more confused than before; like are you angry at him or just upset? He stands up without letting go of your hand.

As he guides you to his room, you remember the previous failed attempts but his deep, commanding tone interrupts. "Don't worry. I have it with me." He lets you enter the room first, still holding your hand; placing a kiss on your cheek he makes you twirl once and lets go of you. He pushes the door with his foot without averting his eyes from you, leaning against it.

"What was that for?" You chuckle and ask. There is slow jazz music playing. You look around till you find the source, an old vinyl player.

"Wanna dance?" Suguru asks. "With me?" and all he gets as a response is a dip in between your eyebrows, a long hum and an upside curve of lips. He chuckles at your expressions and walks towards you.

"I don't know, can you?" you say as he tries to put his arm around your waist.

Another challenge. So amusing. You bite your lip as he leans towards you. There is a fair amount of space between you and him, still, you swayed back, just a little. "um. You wouldn't know unless you try," he said flattening his palm before you. You narrow your eyes on him, giving him a look full of scepticism but as you keep your hand in his he lets out a throaty chuckle.

"what's wrong?" you ask but that just expands his laughter.

He cleared his throat, and scratched his nose before saying, "Your hands are so small." You look at your hands and think how funny it is that he noticed it now even though he had a lot of chances to map his hand against yours. Your nostrils flair up in embarrassment with a slight tinge of anger making you pull away your palm and step backwards.

Suguru's instincts kick in. "Backing down from a challenge so soon, huh?" He asks holding tight on to your hand before pulling you into his body. He seems so firm against you. No wonder your small hands made him laugh. You wanted to say something but as you opened your mouth to speak, you realized how dry your throat is. Wetting your lips you guide his hand around your waist. As both of you start to dance, it seems that your body is practically glued against his. The feeling of skin against the skin with just the barrier of clothes in between, breaths hitting each other, and some wild thoughts running behind those eyes as they look into each other. His hand which you guided at your valley of waist has now travelled upwards enough to undo the zip. You think he is gonna unzip your dress but rather he lets you one slow twirl and then pulls you into his body again. He leans into your ear and you think he is finally going to kiss you. Maybe there is a 'no kiss on the lips' rule or he starts with a neck, or behind the ear but you hear his hoarse whisper, "Are you on suppressants?" You open your eyes, surprise takes control of your body. You blink, and you bite your bottom lip.

NO. "should I have been? I mean people don't generally use suppressants anymore. And, my heart cycle is not unruly but maybe I should have been. . . but who knew I'd sleep with an alpha...and your thoughts keep spiralling. Geto takes your silence as a 'YES' and takes this opportunity to grab your face and kiss your lips. The sweet scent of wine lulls your spiraling thoughts and you grab onto his wrists deepening the kiss. You whimper as he pushes his tongue. Okay, so he likes to take things fast. why did you think it otherwise again? He unzips your dress swiftly. Without finding the hook of your bra, he breaks the kiss, a little bashful about how ready you are: oozing with a desire to mate, not taking suppressants; he wonders if he will find a panty under your dress if he ran his fingers up along your inner thighs.

"Kiss me again," you demand and as both of you recollect breaths, you stand on your toes trying to kiss him but he moves his face away. Suguru licks his lips. You are going fast, and he does not want that. He wants this to be agonizingly slow, so slow that you have to beg him and when this is all over everything will be drilled in your mind. The rejection does not surprise you, nor hurt you but it does make you nervous. Maybe he is the type to fuck only after getting a blow job. Your hands are now upon his chest and his around your torso but when you try to push him away, you fail; he does not let you. What he does sure tingles your skin. He keeps up with your eager curious eyes, and his index and thumb pinch your half-aroused nipple. Just another whimper escaped from you before it became fully aroused. But your parting mouth, closed eyes as he touches you more, squeezes your boob harder threatens him to give you what you want and silence those needy whimpers but instead, he lets his instinct take over. Suguru kisses your neck, slowly, as his hand abuses your boob. Your body arches a little and he pushes his leg in between yours. The sucks start to get strong before his teeth come to play while his knee nudges your vagina. As your hands run through his long shoulder-length hair he presses his knee against your cunt and he feels your warm juices coating his slacks. He takes a break from bruising your neck anymore only to say, "Seriously? no pants either?" Just how desperate are you, yn?

"Ugh! I had no idea that we'd do this today after you-" You pause noticing a crease in his eyebrows and regret accumulates at the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah, about that. I just needed to cool off." He lets his nose nestle against your cheeks as he whispers, "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." You let out a short-lived chuckle thinking how he thought it hurt you. It did, but not too much to lose your sleep over it so that Geto finds you sitting by the poolside at midnight.

"umm-hmmm," a quiet hum before his hands travel under the skirt of your dress. He cups your bare cunt before ruthlessly pushing his finger inside you. You grab his loose t-shirt as he starts to move his finger, slowly, in and out. The veil of pleasure slowly starts to encapsulate you making your legs weak. Unable to hold himself back, he starts to kiss you again because every time he does your nose and lips become a little red. You can not see them but he can; the parted lips, reddened nose and lips, and that panting face craving for more is just the other side of a full moon.

"wanna take this to bed?" he says pulling just a thread away from your lips. You just give him a nod. He cleans his middle finger by licking them, watching your face fall. "What?"

"never do that again," you exclaim with surprise as he drags you to his bed. There is an adjacent bedroom where Suguru generally brings his girls but not tonight, tonight is not just special but just different from his other one-night stands. He sits at the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap effortlessly. It takes you with so much surprise that he has such strength in him.

"You think, we would do this again?"  he asks pulling your legs to one side.

"what? no"

"why 'no' why not 'oh yes' ?" and both of you share a laugh before he sternly commands. "put your hands around me, in."  And you do, you listen to him. You curl your arms around his shoulders and at the same time, feel two of his fingers push inside you. He does not make you wait much as he picks up the pace. Two fingers move up and down, rashly and your mind becomes mushy again. Suguru lets out a chuckle as your hand grabs onto his shirt. You let out a sharp moan, feeling his teeth on your nipple over your dress. He desperately sucks on to them over the cloth.

"wait, lemme just," and you push your dress down to your waist without any hesitation. Sure, Suguru likes bold girls but you are not just bold, you are a little unaware of the consequences of such bold, unfiltered coupling and that too without being on suppressants. Suguru takes his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your boob which has been neglected till now. While his mouth sucks the other, his palm starts to massage. Part of him thinks, maybe you are entering your heat cycle. Sometimes coupling with an alpha might commence an omega's heat cycle; the other part of him thinks that a feisty girl like you would be able to sense if one is entering into a heat cycle. Besides, it would be a hassle to have sex with an omega who is about to enter her heat cycle. Some people might love to do it, but not him. Some omegas become too demanding at this state and with the minimum time he has spent with you, it would be a gamble to predict how you would be in bed during the heat cycle. Suguru pulls away from sucking your tits and looks at you. You let his hair lose, carcasses through his wavy locks, skim through his hair and finally tug at his hair exposing his neck this time. He has you now seated cross-legged on his lap. He feels the strain in his sweatpants. All he wants to do is to have you all on fours and fuck you till he feels the high of it. But he lets you do what you are trying to do: following his patterns. Omegas generally do it, while being in the heat or the advent of it but you would not do it. You are not in your heat cycle, are you? As you kiss him, suck his skin and bite near his collar bones one of his hands supports you while the other aid to the strain in his pants but he fails at that deliberately because every time you buck your hips.

"Wait, stop. Lemme just make it easier for you." He barks and scoots backwards against the headboard. You get rid of your dress and discard it on the floor. Suguru's eyes travel up and down your body. Your body is not spotless, there are moles, stretch marks, and cuts and he leans forward to find out how it would feel against his lips and tongue you stop him. You run your hands from between his collarbone and his navel bottom. "Haha fair enough," he says and gets rid of his t-shirt. You take his cock out of his pants rubbing the foreskin, touching the tip before adjusting it to your entrance. Suguru grabs the condom from the drawer but sees you struggle to sit on his cock, the same question reverts in his mind. The answer to it could only be yes and at the same time, you would not realize the gravity of your state would be because this is the first time you are having sex with an alpha. So, carefully he chins up your face and asks, "Yn, is this your first time with an alpha?"

"Yes." Finally, you said something instead of nodding. He was starting to get worried. Wait. what? You said what? A yes? Oh, a thousand heaven fucks!

"Is that bad?" You ask seeing him glitching like that.

"Nope. Not at all," He quipped. He scratches his forehead in frustration with his thumb because he is sure he is responsible for your current state since you were sober and perfectly in your senses just a while ago; Fuck! he knew it was a bad idea to fuck you in his room and also not to let you take suppressants. He curls his arm around you immediately he lays you flat on his bed. "Alright! yn. Listen to me and Listen to me very carefully," He says and you smile like a baby, like that day when you were drunk. He hates this. Oh God! he hates this so much. "If you feel anything is gonna hurt you, just tell me. You get it?" He stares down at you as you watch him intently with your eyebrows congested. He pushes aside your hair and clusters them in his hand. "You understand. You nod." You give him a nod, saying, "Sure. Got it." You thanked the heavens for being able to respond properly. Not only this is your first time with an alpha, but also like the 'first time.' ever. Geto is gonna flip out if he finds out about that too. He grabs two pillows, one he places under your head and the other under your lower back. He captures all his hair and ties it in a bun. "Tell me if it hurts," he says before pushing the crown of his head inside your feminity. You grab the pillow in anticipation but slowly feel him pushing inside you, filling you and you release a full long breath as he starts to move in and out, slow and steady so it would ease your entrance. He hunches down, his nose grazing against your hot skin along your cheeks and he starts to pick up the pace a little."You okay, yn?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." You answer and feel an immediate strong push against your hips. Suguru grunts feeling you sheath him. "Suguru," you call his name softly, hesitantly.

"Am I hurting you,yn?" He asks with a worried tone.

"Uhmm. no. no. I think you didn't wear a condom," you exclaim showing the packet. And it strikes him that he could use your state to his advantage. Your senses are dull, you are vulnerable, needy and so very tempting. why should he resist you when he is barely holding back?

"Well, shouldn't you have told me before I put us inside you?" he exclaims menacingly watching the light in your eyes fade. "Don't worry I'll pull out." He scoops you into his lap starting to buck his hips against you. "I'm good at that,"  Well, of course you are, Mr.Cassanova; that worried you for a second, bringing back flashbacks that you ought to keep sealed, flashbacks that seemed memories of another person, flashbacks that are like yellow snow.

"you can get louder, can't you?" Geto rasps before he grabs your forearms, tightly as you bob up and down. You bite the inner flesh of your bottom lip tp hold off your smirk. Looking down for a bit, you notice that half of his cock is still not inside of you and, all you want is to milk him dry, fuck him till he passes out. You look at Suguru again, asking, "I can?" resting your hands over his shoulders testing his waters now. He just shoots you a cocky smile before putting his mouth against your skin. This time its so abrupt, so brutal that it makes your eyes go white, teeth abusing your lower lip and hands trying to push him away. Suguru feels your nails scratch his shoulders as he goes down taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking it so hard that it makes you release a welp followed by a shriek. "See. You can do a lot better" He says peering at you. The glisten in your eyes makes his heart thrum faster. "Ahh!fuck this," he growls before shifting his hands on your waist to provide more force to your thrusts. And after a few long and strong thrusts he leans against the headboard watching you pick up the pace. It just hits the right spot with so much precision that keeps you going. Watching you bounce, seeing every lavicious expression you make. . . he is so going to come back to this memory if he ever has to take care of himself. His watches you as he interlaces his fingers with yours. He can feel it, how close you are, the stronger your grip grows in between his hands, the slower your thrusts get pushing you closer to the high and then, as you recoil like a bow wetting his cock it becomes harder not to blow his load inside of you.  "Sorry," he mutters under his breath before freeing one of his interlaced hand from yours to hold you as he lays you flat on the bed again. You squirm, you writhe as he plunges deep inside you. You just came, and now feeling his cock move in and out, it aches your muscles yet you still grab onto his biceps, nails digging as he thrusts his hips. He is panting so hard, you could feel his breath hitting your face everytime he thrusts; without thinking you curl your free hand around his nape, pulling him into a kiss, sucking his lips and pushing your tongue while he keeps thrusting. But the moment you wrap your legs around his torso, he starts to get vocal and fidget. Pulling away from the kiss, he unwraps your legs and holds your calf muscles, gently and keeps up with his loud estatic pumps until he finally lets his head arch back, let go of your legs, pulling his cock out of you spreading his seed over your belly and bosom. Both of you stare at the ceiling as both of your breathing becomes even.

Suguru gets up from the bed and checks his watch. It is almost three in the morning. Yeah, he might just miss tomorrow which would have some grave consequences. "water?" he asks turning around finding you standing behind him. It startles him. You have cuurently taken hostage of his favorite shirt. It fits you perfectly, just a little oversized. You are still oozing with desires, he can sense it and he feels horribly guilty for doing this to you. At dawn, when you will be rested and fresh, it would all come back to you. He closes the gap in between you two, " drink some water," You hesitantly take it and finish the whole water bottle.

"i'm hungry. i should just go back to my room, freshen up and eat something." You murmur to yourself handing him the bottle. You feel estatic, lighter than usual, yet you feel each and every vein running under your skin is on fire.

"Nah! don't go, yn." Geto exclaims hugging you from the back, "This is my house, remember? you wouldn't know where to find food at this hour." He says placing a kiss on your forehead. He puts something on and tells you to freshen up before disappearing out of the room.

When he comes back, he finds you standing in front of the balcony all refreshed, dressed in a white short frock with frills. He has never taken care of someone when they are in heat. He keeps the tray full of food and stands beside you watching the stars. There is a shooting star sailing across the sky and you say, "when i was a child, i used to think that my mom and dad are gonna travel back to me, like that." A scoff and then you look at Geto. "Thanks for the food you say," before grabbing the tray full of food and sitting on divan that had an extension to use as a table. Before you start to eat, you say, "I've already drawn a bath for you. Go freshen up,"

"Yeah right."

"Oh!" you exclaim grabbing a grape, " and suguru. . ." you throw the grape to his direction and he catches with his mouth. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Geto keeps on chewing the grape knowing perfectly well what you were trying to say.

"No, I don't think so," he exclaims with a smile stretching up to his ears. is he blushing?

"cool then," you concentrate back on your food.

Standing under the shower Geto traces back his decisions. He should not have fucked you today or tried to keep you off suppressants. He never should have pursued you because now all he is filled with is nothing but the guilt of pushing you into heat. Wait, isn't that a good sign? He  to never fucked an omega without them being on pills, but now that he did it was only natural that it would turn out this way. He will just ask if he can help you with it or not when he gets out of the shower. Geto hears a sharp click and he starts to feel empty like one side of an hour glass. He quickly wraps a towel, and walks into his room but he does not spot you anywhere. You were just gone. Surely, he would see you at the breakfast but at least you could have said something before leaving or could have slept with him. He would have kept you warm, comfortable and sane rather than some pills. Why didn't you think of that? Well, whatever he could just ask you tomorrow that if he can help with 'it' since he is responsible for it; going to your room now would make him seem too desperate, he does not want that. He takes his phone to text you. should he? His eyes fall on the shirt that he made you wear on the prank night and picked up his phone.

[ you forgot your dress, ] and with that he went to sleep. Tomorrow he is gonna ask about how he was he. . . and one more thing.

A few minutes later, the phone awakes; a reply came : [ no. i didn't. at least check before you say that . . . or is it that you miss me already? ]