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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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snakes & bets | part 6.

Summary: Social outcast suddenly makes friends? And those friends are Hogwarts’ most notorious pranksters? Despite being entirely suspicious, Y/N doesn’t question any motives. The world can’t possibly come crashing down around her…

Warnings: This whole story is angsty, hurt/comfort, smut, will end in fluff but goes through all the other stuff first.

Pairing: Marauders x black!reader, eventual Sirius Black x black!reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Regulus wasn’t your replacement as far as the marauders were concerned. He was Sirius’ little brother and they were glad to have him around and away from Death Eaters but it wasn’t the same. They were so used to having you around. They were used to finding spools of thread littered around their place. They also realized that they didn’t know that much about you.

If they ever got a chance again, they promised that they would pay attention to what you were interested in. That depended entirely on you giving them a chance. You said you obliviated yourself. What they did was so awful that you wanted to forget entirely. The marauders were used to their pranks being funny.

They were used to laughing at the jokes that other people did. None of them were ever malicious. Even the meaner ones were thrown right back in their face. They jinxed Severus, he came up with the Levicorpus as a counter. He called them arrogant so they called him Snivellus. Everyone dished out jokes and took them all the same. Your situation wasn’t the same.

They had to accept the fact that they humiliated you. You were isolated and then turned into a joke. You never threw a jinx at anyone. You never had any friends to playfully insult. Nothing was reciprocal. There was nothing funny about what they did.

Winter break didn’t have the same relaxation and happiness that it usually did. The boys walked downstairs to get started on breakfast with heavy footsteps. Like your letter said, an owl knocked on the kitchen window to deliver the wolfsbane potion for Remus. It didn’t even matter if it didn’t work. The fact that you still did something for them made them feel miserable.

“Oh, those jumpers are lovely,” Mrs. Potter said as she and her husband came into the kitchen.

“A girl in our year made them for us,” Remus responded with less enthusiasm.

“Okay.” Mr. Potter eyed them. “Why the long faces?”

The boys all sighed. Regulus and Peter just pushed their drinks away from them. James ran his hands through his hair. He looked at his parents, biting his lips in nervousness.

“We really messed up.”

To say the Potters were livid was an understatement. Once James started to talk, all the boys spilled everything. Showing James’ parents the letter you wrote confirmed that it wasn’t a twisted joke they were pulling on them early in the morning. The five of them didn’t argue when they weren’t allowed to leave the house. James and Sirius didn’t put up a fight when the Potters started returning any Christmas presents bought. They wrote to McGonagall that they didn’t care what your letter said, if she only punished their son then at least one person would get what they deserved.

Your trunk was full on the train ride back to Hogwarts. You actually came back with two trunks instead of one. A house elf had randomly delivered a bracelet for you and then an owl showed up on Christmas day with a trunk full of crafting supplies and preserved flowers. None of your cousins would own up to buying you the presents even though you knew that they had to be the ones who did it.

Christmas with the Zabinis was the best time of year. Your dad’s muggle side of the family went to the large Zabini Manor that your grandparents owned. Everyone came in. Despite there being enough rooms, you and your cousins all piled into one or two rooms.

At first, you were the talk of the town. A Zabini-Black union was new and exciting. Everyone dropped it when you seemed to have no idea what they were talking about. Your grandfather laughed, telling everyone to give your relationship some privacy until you were ready. He just winked when you insisted that you hadn’t held more than one conversation with the boy.

Well, whatever delusion your grandfather seemed to have resulted in you getting another dress for the Valentine’s Day Dance. The garment was packed delicately in your trunk. It would be the first dance you ever went to. You weren’t planning on going but your letter told you to do so. It said to dance to your heart’s content and have a good night. You were also to go straight to your room. Nowhere else but your room. If anyone invited you to an afterparty, you were supposed to say no. You thought that old you sounded a bit like an overbearing mother with that last instruction but you were going to listen. You reached into your trunk to grab some money for the snack trolley.

“Can I have the sour worms and a pumpkin pasty?”

“Give me a minute on the pumpkin pasty, need to warm it up, dear,” the trolley lady said to you.

You nodded and took the worms while you waited. You took out a sour worm and stuck half of it in your mouth to suck off the sour. That was how you ate them. It was too sour to stick in your mouth all at once so you sucked it off of one side and then flipped the candy around to suck off the other before eating the entire thing.

Regulus suddenly moved from the line, making his brother look at him strangely. Regulus just pushed Sirius in front of him. The marauder stopped when he looked forward to see you putting your money back into your little coin purse. You had half a sour worm hanging out of your mouth. He noticed your outfit. The sweater looked handmade and your jeans had all sorts of thread patterns that he knew you added.

You never dressed like this when they went to Hogsmeade. You had a lot of daisies in your hair but not in a crown. They were placed sporadically. In the past, he probably would have made fun of you along with everyone else. Now, Sirius saw how beautiful your style made you. It was authentic and kind of hot if he was being honest. You looked cute. He thought you were absolutely adorable but the concept of being you, the confidence, was what he found hot.

He held up a hand to wave to you. The trolley lady gave you your warm pumpkin pasty. Because you had the worm in your mouth, you just gave the lady a smile and walked off without even noticing Sirius.

He watched you eat dinner alone in the Great Hall. You didn’t look around like you used to, trying to plead with someone to sit next to you. You just looked at your food and ate. The marauders watched you gulp down your pumpkin juice and get up.

They couldn’t hear what some Slytherins were asking you but judging by their frowns and you shaking your head, you just turned down something that would have won them a task on the betting list. That was the first thing they had to do, get rid of the betting list. The marauders were going to give up all their winnings to get people to stop. It would have given everyone their money back and then some probably.

Marlene called your name, making you stop to look at their table. You were in uniform now but still had the daisies in your hair. You switched into your glasses.

“We’re not going to Ravenclaw’s party tonight. Sleepover in our room?”

They watched a comical frown appear on your face. “No.”

You said it with more authority than they ever heard come from you that it almost took them by surprise. You wrapped your cardigan around you, hugging yourself as you left the Great Hall. Sirius made a motion to stand up but thought better of it. He hadn’t done anything yet that would warrant him trying to apologize again. That was going to change tonight. He and the other boys were shutting down that bet tonight no matter what.

Getting rid of the bet before classes even started was the one thing that made the marauders feel better. It wasn’t really doing right by you considering it shouldn’t have been done in the first place. But, at least it was gone. They watched you take your seat at the front table near the window in Transfiguration. Sirius moved to go sit next to you when McGonagall stood in his way.

“Back to your seat, Mr. Black. I have a lecture to start.”

“Yeah, Min— Professor. I was just about to.”

“I believe you always sit with Mr. Pettigrew, don’t you?”

“I just wanted to switch it up.”

“Well, you’d be sitting alone.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. How would he be sitting without a partner when you were at the table? McGonagall just turned her face to look at the door. All the seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherins along with the sixth and seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were ushered into the classroom by their professors. McGonagall called out for them to find seats either in a free chair or on the floor while the other professors left. You looked up when she called your name.

“Cornish pixies have gotten loose on the seventh floor, Hagrid says you have a way with them. Would you go assist him in collecting them? I’ll inform you of what you missed.”

“Of course, Professor.”

Sirius gave you puppy dog eyes as you walked out of the classroom to go help Hagrid with the cornish pixies that he and McGonagall purposely set free on the seventh floor. The raven-haired boy retreated to his original seat next to Peter.

At first, all the students were wondering what they were being called in for. The last time that happened was fourth year when they were allowed to start going to the Yule Ball in addition to the other dances and had to be informed. As you left it became fairly obvious what they had been called in for. The students hung their heads in shame as McGonagall scolded all of them on their behavior.

“Now, your classmate requested that I not punish you. Your other professors and I don’t agree. Because of your fellow student’s kindness, I won’t ban you all from Hogsmeade. But we want three feet of parchment from you about the wrongdoings of your actions before you even think of setting foot in Hogsmeade this weekend. And every single one of you has detention until we feel you’ve learned respect. Yes, Mr. Mulciber?”

“Are we serving them all here?”

“Oh, no, you aren’t sitting in classrooms for detention. The house elves will no longer do your chores. You will clean every inch of this castle, do your own laundry, wash your dishes. The Head of Houses have your cleaning groups and schedules. Please find them to receive your assignments. Keep track of your schedule. Failure to hand in your parchment or report to cleanings will result in Hogsmeade bans, removal from quidditch teams and clubs, and suspension with letters to your parents. Am I clear? Good, you’re dismissed.”

The Gryffindor students stayed since McGonagall was their Head of House. The marauders knew that Mr. and Mrs. Potter were probably the reason that everyone got punished— not that they were against it. It didn’t feel like punishment. There wasn’t anything unfair about what they were being asked to do. They took their assignments and left.

When you got back to the room after helping Hagrid with the pixies, McGonagall said that they simply had a vote on whether to make the Valentine’s Day dance for only fifth year and up but decided against it. Even though it didn’t matter, you voiced your support for letting all the students go. The Yule Ball being exclusive was enough for you. With nothing else, you went back to your room.

Your roommates said hello to you in meek voices when they got back to the room. You were a little confused when they left before bed but didn’t ask. It wasn’t like they would tell you anyway. Your roommates had one of the first rounds of cleaning duty. They were in charge of laundry for Slytherin girls on Monday nights.

While the other students cleaned, you slept or enjoyed your days as normal. You had listened to your letter perfectly. The entire month of January, you declined every offer. The only person that you shared a meal with was tea with McGonagall. You also took your breakfast from the Great Hall to go eat with Myrtle in the girls’ lavatory. That earned looks that you ignored and lots of teasing behind your back that Sirius couldn’t stop. You went to Hogsmeade alone in stuff that you made. You wore flowers in your hair in the way that you liked. In Astronomy, you brought two blankets and a thermos full of tea laced with wake-me-up potion.

From across the classroom and the Great Hall, Sirius pined after you and your old friends watched you be alone. They saw the cracks occasionally. But before they could come over to fix your frown, they saw you pull out your letter to yourself and read it. After reading it, the frown would disappear. It wasn’t replaced with a smile. It simply disappeared.

With the bet over, no one even tried to talk to you except for the marauders and the girls. They couldn’t take it anymore as February rolled around. The more they watched you, the more the others started to see what Sirius did. They were aware that they saw it way too late to make a difference. Every plan to try and talk to you was met with a no or you saying that you weren’t interested.

They sat in Three Broomsticks, trying to come up with a foolproof plan to talk. Bombarding you with letters of apology didn’t work. It was obvious that you didn’t read them— your letter told you not to. Every idea they had sounded stupid. Sirius was growing frustrated at lack of a good idea. He was pulling his hair back to get it out of his face when he spotted you walking past the window of the pub. He practically pushed James out of the booth so he could race outside.

“(Y/N)!”

You stopped and turned around to see Sirius digging his heels into the dirt to stop from running you over. His eyes roamed over you. He found himself smiling just by looking at you. Did you always wear lipgloss? He pointed to your hair.

“The flowers look nice.”

“Thank you?”

“So, the dance is next week and I w—”

“Sorry, Sirius,” you said as you put your pocket watch back in your pocket. “I need to go before the store sells out of glitter yarn. It’s the end of winter, the gnomes need new hats, you know.”

“O-of course, totally.”

“Bye.”

“Wait, (Y/N)! Do you want to go to the dance with me?” he quickly asked before you disappeared completely.

“No. Thank you, though. I’m going alone.”

“Oh, you’re going this year?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, are you sure that you don—”

“Sirius. The yarn.”

He sighed. “Right, yeah, the yarn.”

He watched you run off. James, Remus, and Peter knew not to say anything when he entered the pub. It was obvious from his face that he failed. They watched you walk past the window once again but this time with yarn in your arms. Sirius wasn’t going to give up.

He took every opportunity to ask you to the dance, not caring that he got rejected every single time. You were starting to get curious though. Your letter didn’t explain anything about having a single boy ask you out incessantly. It just said not to trust anyone. You were supposed to go to the dance alone and enjoy yourself.

At dinner, Sirius watched you frown as you re-read your letter. You didn’t know why old you didn’t want you to have a date. It was a dance. Dances had dates, the two went hand in hand. And you were being asked by arguably one of the hottest boys at school. You were starting to think that old you had issues because why would you turn this down? Didn’t old you know that you didn’t have friends and this was a once in a lifetime opportunity? You just shook your head and tucked the letter back into your sweater pocket.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked Sirius.

“(Y/N) just left.”

James snorted. “He’s off to get rejected again.”

“Weren’t you just getting rejected by Lily a few weeks ago?”

“She’s my girlfriend now though, mate. I have years to make up for you making fun of me.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and left to go find you. He saw you sitting underneath one of the staircases working on the new glitter hats for the gnomes. Checking that the hallway was empty, Sirius transformed into his Animagus form and bounded over to you. You gasped in delight at seeing a giant black dog.

“Hi, mister.” You scratched at his fur. “Where’d you come from?”

The dog licked your hand once before sitting next to you. You were still wondering where he came from. There was no collar plus dogs weren’t a pet that students were allowed to bring. He probably belonged to Hagrid. You finished your second tiny hat when the dog whined.

“What’s up?”

The dog whined again before laying down. He moved his head to rest in your lap, eyes closing as you scratched his head. You chuckled as you watched his tail hit the floor as it wagged. Your little furry friend stayed with you until curfew. In one of the empty corridors, he transformed back and headed to his dorm.

“She let you talk to her?” Peter asked when Sirius entered.

“How did you know?”

Remus held up the map. “We were totally spying. Answer Wormtail’s question.”

“More or less.”

The other three boys looked at each other. Sirius wasn’t offering any more information than that. For the rest of the week, he found you during your free time and spent it with you aside from when he had to wash the dishes after lunch. He would have rather done it as a person but being close to you was a start. Sirius figured that maybe he could earn your trust as a dog and then as a human.

Last time he was in Hogsmeade, it was a Sunday and exactly one week before the dance. This time, it was a Saturday and one day before the dance. Sirius wasn’t going to ask you again. It was clear that the answer was no. With his new plan, he accepted your rejection. It was mildly awkward when his parents sent him a tie that matched your dress. He didn’t tell them what happened. Considering they now blamed him for Regulus’ sudden rebellion, he was surprised to get anything at all. Being into a Zabini girl was earning more favor and leniency from his parents than he expected.

He sipped on his firewhiskey in Three Broomsticks. This time he sat on the outside so he could leave without running James over. The marauders knew that he was about to follow you around like a lovesick puppy, not even caring that their friend was only half paying attention. There was something kind of nice about seeing Padfoot so enamored.

“Oh, you’re kidding,” James said when he looked out the window a few minutes after Sirius left.

Peter and Remus looked over when they heard you laughing. You bent down to pet the dog.

“Hi, mister. Did you come to Hogsmeade to see me?” You joked.

Sirius barked in response.

“You did?” You played along. “Let’s go, we have shopping to do… Do you want a hat?”

The dog’s tail wagged and he gave you another short bark. The marauders couldn’t tear their eyes away from the scene on the other side of their window. They were never letting Sirius live this down. They were joking about the lovesick puppy. It wasn’t meant for him to take literally. You walked around the small wizarding village with your dog at your side. He even walked with you back to the castle. You bent down to pet him.

“I wish I could take you as my date tomorrow but you have four legs. I don’t think I can sneak you in either,” you said, earning a bark in response. “Date? I don’t have a date, mister. I’m going alone. I kind of hate it but I’m not supposed to trust anyone at Hogwarts. Everyone wants something apparently. I don’t know what but they want something. Doesn’t matter, not like they were my friends before.”

The dog licked your face, making you laugh. You scratched at his fur some more.

“Do you want to know a secret? A cute boy asked me but I said no. I have a letter from him in my trunk but I’m not supposed to open it. I trust myself but I also wish I said yes. He has a pretty face and he seems nice… a bit loud but nice. Oh well. I’m going to have fun tomorrow even without a date.”

You left the dog to go back to your room. Sirius was riding a high because you called him cute. You also told him that you saved his letter. He might not have asked you to the dance successfully but he planned on being your date once you actually got there. He was inside with the others, waiting for you to enter the Great Hall. They all decided to go more as a group rather than dates. James and Lily were dates because they were officially dating. Everyone else decided that if a slow song came on, they would just pair up with each other. Sirius had worn the matching tie.

Lily spotted you first, gasping at the sight. Your Halloween dress had been form fitting and orange— the Yule Ball one was the same but in red. This dress was meant to be fun. It was everything light, a mix of tulle and chiffon in a pink so pale that it was almost white. It wasn’t floor length like the others but tea-length so you could still dance wildly. Your hair was pulled back completely to be away from your face, secured with a rose pin. Because it was Valentine’s Day, you added little hearts under your eyes.

Your grandfather had said he loved dances centered around the summer season or Valentine’s Day because that was when purebloods wore less stuffy and formal outfits. Everyone was always in tea and cocktail attire, the dances were more exciting, and he almost always got a kiss at the end of the night. You had wrinkled your nose at that last part because you thought he was being silly but everything else sounded great.

You walked right past the group of friends to get some punch. The music hadn’t really started to play yet. Everyone was still waiting for their dates or to head down in groups. You swayed by yourself to the waiting music with your cup of punch in hand near the wall. Sirius actually felt nervous as he waited in line to get punch. This wasn’t like him, especially when it came to you. Normally, he could stroll right up to you. You were always pretty but the dance was different. You were just stunning to him.

The music picked up and you set down your drink. You skipped to the dance floor as best as you could in heels. Sirius stood near the place that you had been when you were against the wall and just watched. Remus went over to his friend first. Soon the others followed until they were all standing against the wall and watching you like creeps. You were doing the strangest wave with your arms.

Sirius laughed into his drink. He missed that weird dancing at the Yule Ball because you had tried so hard to be normal. And he didn’t appreciate it at the Halloween dance. Now, he just wanted to join you.

“Come on,” Dorcas said as she grabbed Sirius and Marlene’s hands.

The boy panicked. “What are we doing?”

“We are all about to go dance next to (Y/N). I can’t stand watching you mope anymore. At least do it closer, it’s pathetic from this distance.”

They all peeled themselves away from the wall to dance around you. You never joined their little circle, still dancing in your own world. You had no reason to join them. You went to the dance alone. It wasn’t like you had friends. You were your own circle. But you were having fun. Dances were great. You didn’t know why you had never gone before. You were going to go to every single one for your last year. Still, it was a shame that you didn’t go before. That didn’t matter now though because you were dancing and having fun. It only came to an abrupt stop when the music turned slow.

You nodded to yourself. It was a Valentine’s Day dance after all— slow songs were to be expected. But you didn’t want to leave the dance floor. In the most exaggerated fashion, you wrapped your arms around yourself and swayed. You had taken ballroom lessons from a young age so you had steps memorized without much thought. It was easy to waltz without a partner.

With your eyes closed and head tilted back to enjoy the music, you didn’t notice Sirius attempting to ask you for a dance. He glared at his friends when they laughed at him for failing to tap your shoulder before you moved to the next step. They were all just holding each other and swaying in place, not making any moves to help— not that they knew how.

Eventually, Sirius gave up. He sighed, and in the most dramatic fashion, wrapped his arms around himself to waltz. You two were doing a partner dance without a partner even though you were only an arm’s length away. Marlene rested her head on Dorcas’ shoulder.

“It’s kind of sweet.”

“Kind of? This might actually be the most romantic I’ve ever seen him be in his life… Sap.”

You figured that the song would end soon and they would pick up the pace again. Now was probably the best time to get a snack or something before the music picked back up. Opening your eyes, you paused when you saw Sirius copying you. He wasn’t aware that you had stopped until he ran into you because you were now in the way of his next step. Sirius opened his eyes to see you staring at him.

“Do you want to da—”

The music changed. All of the students on the floor looked in confusion at the band.

“What sort of music is this?” James asked.

“It’s for a jive,” You and Sirius answered at the same time before looking at each other.

“What?” Peter and Mary asked.

“A type of swing dance.” Sirius held out his hand for you. “Did they teach you this one too?”

You nodded, taking his hand. Sirius tilted his head.

“I only know the basics, Reg and I skipped this class usually.”

You both began to follow the music. The marauders and girls had to take a couple of steps back. The two of you were flying around the place. Only a few other couples— including Regulus and his date— knew how to jive. The others just formed a large circle and watched.

“Is swing dancing always this wild?” Mary asked.

“I think it’s those two.” Remus pointed out.

While everyone was swing dancing, you and Sirius were on another level. Arms and legs were going everywhere. It looked correct. Without a doubt, anyone could tell that it was a swing dance. But where everyone else on the floor was measured, you two were just having fun.

Sirius never wanted the song to end as he spun you around, watching your hair fall out of the rose pin. Both of you danced right over it, not even caring. You were having the time of your life. Dances were officially the best nights at Hogwarts. You and Sirius stayed dance partners for the rest of the night. You yawned in the middle of another slow dance.

“Battery drained,” you said. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“I’ll walk you to your dorm.” He saw a small frown appear on your face, already knowing the answer.

“Sorry, I think I should just go. And I think your friends aren’t done dancing.” You pointed out James and Lily.

“Yeah, you’re right. Here.” He pulled your rose pin out of his pocket, having rescued it from the floor.

“Keep it. I’ve got lots of preserved flowers.”

“They look really pretty by the way, the flowers.”

“Thank you… I’m going to go now.”

“Yeah, alright… Wait, (Y/N)… uh, see you in Charms?”

Sirius took in a deep breath and closed his eyes when you walked off. Nothing about what he just said was smooth. Remus and Peter kindly reminded him of such. He ended up leaving shortly after you, only waiting so you wouldn’t think that he was following you. Sirius twirled the rose as he laid in bed. He’d have to tell you the truth. If he wanted to go any further with you then he had to own up once again to what they did. He knew now that he messed up last time by hiding it.

You folded your dress up and put it back in your trunk. Ditching the heels, you took a quick shower and changed. The night was amazing. Between finishing your hats for the gnomes and your dog friend and the dance, you had a great day. A smile creeped on your face as you thought more about it. Sirius kind of made the night extra special. You pulled the duvet up to your nose, ready to sleep when your eyes popped open. You had a letter from the boy who made your night just a bit better.

Scrambling to the edge of the bed, you hung over it and opened your trunk. The letter was there, wrinkled as ever, along with lots of vials. You picked up a vial. There was a label on it that held the date. Setting the letter next to you, you bent back down to look at the vials. They all were similar. There was a date on them and a vague description. Some were fairly obvious like October 31st, Halloween Dance. Others were confusing like the one labeled sweatshirt. Sitting back up, you focused on what you were actually looking for.

Sirius had nice handwriting. You could tell just by how he wrote your name on the envelope. Carefully, you opened the letter. Your smile turned into an expression of confusion. You had read the letter over and over again. It didn’t make sense. He was apologizing for something that didn’t happen, professing his love for you when he barely knew you, and remembering details that not a single person at Hogwarts paid attention to when it came to you.

You read your own letter and then the one Sirius wrote. Both were referencing things that you seemed to know nothing about. You leaned over the bed again, grabbing every vial and placing them on your bed. One by one, you drank the flavorless memories from the vials. You threw them back without a break between them, afraid that you wouldn’t be able to finish what you started if you waited.

Your roommates weren’t expecting you to still be up when they came back. They gave you small hellos before sitting down to take off their own heels. You rolled your eyes and crawled back up under the duvet. Taking a deep breath, you sat up and looked at your roommates.

“I know what happened. I hope the money was worth it.”

They sat there stunned for a minute. You didn’t give them a chance to speak as you turned off your lamp and used your wand to pull the curtains around your bed. You barely accepted their apology in the morning, not really caring. You didn’t want them to be friends with you so you didn’t care how they felt. If they learned a lesson, great. If they didn’t? That wasn’t your problem.

Remus lifted his head. In the past, he never cared but now he was locked in on the scent of your perfume thanks to Sirius. Remus leaned forward to poke Sirius who was sitting in front of him with James.

“Hey, Pads, your princess is coming.”

Sirius sat up, fixing his hair. He and the other marauders gave you a smile when you entered the classroom. Sirius still had the rose from last night, twirling it between his fingers. You stood right in front of his desk. Your hands dug around your bag until you found the stupid hat that you had made for Sirius when you thought he was a regular dog. The marauder blinked as a pink hat hit him in the face.

“Stay away from me.”

You stomped off to your seat on the other side of the classroom. Sirius examined the hat, spotting two holes near the top. They were to pull ears through so they weren’t stuck under the hat. The marauder sighed as he set the hat down.

“She knows.”

(Part 7)

#sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x reader

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manteaublanc · 27 days

Text

#manteaublanc :: ind. sel. 18+ only red dead redemption/western oc. HEAVILY UNDER CONSTRUCTION

PERSONALS DNI. MUTUALS ONLY.

a study in devotion, generational curses, learned kindness, and chosen family

gabriel || she/they || 26

interest tracker || memes || headcanons || open starters || wanted plots

heavily affiliated with motley aka @hauntboxed

rules and about under the cut until i get a carrd made

rules

one. don’t be a dick. all usual rules apply (no godmodding, no bigotry, ect)

two. tag your shit, i’ll tag mine

three. anon hate will not be tolerated.

four. i will not ship casey with any muses under 25. this number may change.

five. i ship chemistry. don’t follow assuming you’ll get a ship.

six. feel free to fuck casey up but understand he is a violent man and i will not nerf my oc for your comfort

seven. enjoy the boy!

about

name: casey beau baptiste

nickname/alias: the bear, big casey

age: verse dependant; 60 main verse

fc: clancy brown

dob: november 30, 1839

height: 6’6”

nationality: french/american

religion: former catholic

orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: single; widower

location: nomad

history: casey was born in 1839 to circus performers -- a french trapeze artist and the cajun ringmaster. he grew up in the circus, and he grew fast. due to his size, he wound up becoming the circus’ strongman at age sixteen. during his time at the circus, he married his childhood sweetheart, marnie, on his eighteenth birthday. at twenty-two, he found he had a talent for long distance shooting, and became a sniper for the union during the civil war. it was during the war his wife was killed, so when all was said and done, casey found himself wandering the country, trying to find work, but having little success due to his lack of skill, drinking habit, and bad temper. he turned to a life of crime and odd jobs -- and pissing off a lot of people -- and eventually lands a job as a shotgun messenger.

one fateful day, he does his job as normal, but there’s an adorable passenger aboard the stage coach he’s protecting that would go on to change his life forever -- a little five year old girl named evelyn holyss (created by motley on motsoleum.) she’s sweet and kind to him with wide eyed curiosity, and he develops a soft spot for her over the course of the stage coach’s journey. unfortunately, things don’t stay easy, and toward the end of the job, the stage coach is attacked by lemoyne raiders. casey himself is incapacitated and awakens to find a massacre...and its only survivor: little evelyn holyss. the little girl’s family had been killed in the process, and as such, she had no one left. her predicament pulled at what was left of casey’s heart strings, and he promised her he’d keep her safe. what followed was casey unofficially adopting her, and as a result, he tried to clean up his act -- drinking less, starting less fights, and just in general trying to become a better person and be a good father to the girl.

eventually, his past does catch up to him in the form of a moonshiner he’d stolen from once. the man resorts to threatening evelyn to get even, even trying to hurt her, but the papa bear instinct is strong with this one, and casey showed the man no mercy as he beat him to death with only his fists and pure rage, stopping only when evelyn begged him to stop. realizing how badly he’d scared her, casey promised to never lose his cool like that again, and realizes on the quiet ride to their next temporary home just how far he’s willing to go to protect this kid -- his daughter.

though they never had a whole lot of money, casey never let it affect evelyn: her clothes were always clean and tailored, her shoes never had holes in them, and she always had food in her belly, even when casey went without.

eventually, the two joined the van der linde gang -- mostly out of desperation -- and until the spring of 1899, that’s where they stayed. after an altercation with the gang’s leader, casey left in a rage, with evelyn deciding to stay behind.

the gang eventually falls apart, and the two are reunited after a fellow outlaw, arthur morgan, tells casey what’s happening and that he needs to get evelyn away from dutch and the remaining outlaws. he agrees, and the two escape the van der linde gang by the skin of their teeth.

casey managed to live until the age of seventy-five until his age and days of drinking and smoking caught up to him, but before he passed, he made sure to save every penny and pass it on to evelyn: one final act to support his daughter before he died.

#pinned post #*001. thinkin' about that old man // ooc.

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casspurrjoybell-24 · 10 months

Text

Sugar Punch - Chapter 8

*Warning Adult Content* SUGAR🥊 🥊PUNCH

- Maddox -

After a depressive week of working my ass off with training for next month, I had time to fit Theo in for a session with me.

To say it wasn't the highlight of my week I would be lying because right now, he's the only guy I stand being around, apart from my personal trainer and friend, Jorden, who I had known since I was just a brat, not much older than Theo.

I had made up a schedule for today for what I could do with Theo, it wasn't anything too bad as he had just recovered from exhaustion, no thanks to me, so I was taking today slow and had just planned to work on the machines on the top floor with him.

I waited patiently for him by the front desk, occasionally checking my watch for the time as each minute passed, ignoring the looks of a group of girls that came through the doors and started checking me out.

One of them caught my eye but for whatever reason, my dick just wasn't reacting to her the way it would've done if I liked the look of a girl, if anything I've never been softer.

"Hi Maddox," they all say in union as I smiled at them once them passed me.

The girls weren't dressed for breaking a sweat and sometimes we got girls like that, that only came inside to see me or take photos just to say on social media that they showed up and 'slayed'.

Girls like that were too fucking exhausting to be around but of-course, those girls were also not bad in bed either.

I looked at my watch again and saw it had just turned 4:05 and he was now five minutes late but if anything, I was more annoyed that he hadn't shown up yet, rather than being late, which I hated more than anything.

I see a shadow behind the door and just as I suspected from the floppy head of hair, Theo opened the door looking like he wasn't trying to make it obvious that he just ran here.

He looked out of breath as he tried to straighten himself up, unaware I was watching him as he fixed his hair before coming further into the gym, only then did he notice me as his eyes go wide, like he was caught stealing.

With a blush rising on his cheeks, he made his way over to me as I waited, biting back a grin as I stared at the nervous guy dragging his legs over to me.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, standing in front me, his eyes nervously looking at me and then behind me. "I missed my bus."

I figured it was something like this, so I dropped it and leaned off the front desk.

"It's fine Theo," I said looking at him, red in the cheeks and still trying to catch his breathe.

What I had planned for us today was probably a good idea, looking at him now, already worn out just from running from the bus stop to here, which is what, five minutes away?

"Grab a drink then we'll start with some stretches before we hit the treadmill," I told him, as I started walking over to a machine at the back of the room, Theo following behind me.

"Um..." he starts, walking next to me. "We're not working out in the basement?" he asked, his brown eyes looking at me shyly as I simply shook my head.

"Today we're stamina building, then I'll put you on a proper schedule once you've built some energy."

He nodded before looking around, his hand gripping the bag I gave him.

"Um..." he started, whipping his eyes back to me. "I'm just going to put my stuff in my locker..."

With that he was off and all I could do was watch him amused, he was fun to watch and I'd admit, I had wanted to bully him about it more than once, especially when he's all over the place at once.

I started stretching whilst waiting for him, a few minutes later he came out of the locker room and walked over to me, his eyes on the floor as I waited for him on the treadmill.

Once I made him stretch it out, we both got onto the treadmill and started a light walk together, before I chose to pick it up into a light jog until he was at a comfortable pace that wouldn't tire him out quickly.

After ten minutes on the treadmill, I worked with him on other machines and taught him how to properly use them, I knew Rick had probably already done it, but the fucker likes to leave things out, so I told Theo how to do it safely.

He was a weak guy, with my help he could push 15, maybe 20k but on his own he was struggling to lift 10k on each arm, which amazed me as I could probably bench press him until I got old and wrinkly without stopping once.

Our time together flew over and Theo was drenched in sweat, which I was proud of because he had worked hard and not complained once when I told him to try something, even when I corrected him more than once.

Honestly, he was easy to work with, I only wished half my guys were like him, it would make my job so much more fucking easier.

"Let's hit the showers, you could use one," I say, tapping him on the back as he paled and looked at me.

"Um... it's fine I can just do it at home..." he said as I looked at him hard, not going to take no for an answer.

"Fuck that, I'll drop you off if you miss your bus," is all I said before I started walking towards the showers.

I could use a shower myself, before he came here, I worked out with Rick on the second floor, I didn't smell bad but I also didn't want to walk around without feeling fresh either, so I decided I'd just do it now with Theo.

The guy was a nervous wreck as he followed me in, he looked everywhere but me as we walked into the changing room and I started to take my top off.

"I didn't bring anything," Theo said quietly as he stood beside me, as I looked down at him, grinning.

"I'll lend you mine, now come on get undressed," I said, handing him a spare towel I kept in my locker.

I got undressed as I started peeling my shoes and socks from my feet, and then my shorts, I couldn't help but watch from the corner of my eye as Theo turned around and started getting undressed, the back of his neck red.

Was he shy getting undressed around me?

It was only the two of us in the changing room but this sort of reaction, he was more like a girl then a guy, with how red his neck was.

It was pretty fucking cute, if I'm being honest.

Taking my underwear off, I wrapped a towel around my waist and waited for Theo, as he did the same, before I peeked at his ass, not giving a fuck if he saw me or not at this point.I

t was impossible to hide my growing erection if he saw me, so why should I care?

His butt was nice and round without a single bit of hair on it, it looked tempting enough to bite into it was so pale and it looked so smooth, it made my dick come alive at just the thought of biting into another guy's ass.

I knew what I was turning into and I knew it was fucking disturbing, which is why I walked in front so he wouldn't see just how badly I wanted to mess with his ass.

Listen to me, sounding all gay and shit for this guy, I couldn't believe myself.

Once inside the showers I drop my towel and hang it up outside the stall I stood next to, Theo got in next to me as I turned on the water, it was only then that I noticed that this was the first time I saw him without his t-shirt on.

Theo always wore long sleeved tops, but now I saw everything and despite the old bruises on his arms and back, he looked fucking beautiful, his skin was pale and smooth and his butt was nice and perky for a guy.

I was just getting harder by looking at him, so I turned around and tried to think of something disgusting, anything to distract me from taking advantage of this guy right now.

"Here."

I hand him my shampoo bottle, which he accepted shyly as I started to wash my body with gel.

Theo was quiet as I showered, I was almost done and he was still on washing his hair, I noticed from looking at him that his neck was still red and his cheeks were a bright shade of pink as he kept his head down, probably to hide how shy he was around me.

I knew how he felt around me, I was used to it after all with the number of women that threw themselves at me, but seeing it on a guy, a guy I jerked off to, it was fucking refreshing.

There was no damn way I could walk out of here right now with my large erection just not going down, now I know it was probably a mistake coming in here with him, I don't know what it was but I just really wanted to touch him.

The more seconds passed, the more frustrated I got with myself, so fuck it, he could always push me away if he didn't want this, right?

Screw it, I'm making a move.

Swallowing hard, I turned my water off and then stepped closer to him, noticing his body twitch once he noticed that I was standing next to him, under the shower water.

The moment I stepped next to him I saw it, being stood next to him I hadn't noticed but now, now I saw that I wasn't the only one feeling like my dick was about to burst as I saw that Theo was also hard and trying desperately to hide his erection.

"Turn around," I say, standing behind him, my raging hard on inches from touching his perky round ass. "Theo, look at me."

Theo flinched and stood there, his head down before I grew impatient and grabbed hold of him and turned him around to face me as I put my hand on his shoulder, making his back the wall of the shower.

Looking at his face now, it was a miracle I didn't just fuck him then and there, he was bright red with tears in his brown eyes that looked up at me with panic and fear in them but not because of me, no...

He felt the same, as just as I did, he wanted this to happen.

Most importantly, he wasn't going to push me away.

I reached out and slowly wrapped my hand around his erection, making him moan out surprised, before he covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes staring widely at my hand as I gripped it tightly, moving my body closer to him until his back was pressed up against the shower wall.

I leaned my head against the wall above his shoulder and touched him, his soft whimpers drove me crazy as I continued stoking him, my own erection moments from bursting free as I clenched my eyes shut.

Fuck, why did this feel so good?

And he wasn't even touching me and I hadn't even touched my dick either but just being able to do what I had only thought about doing, not a day ago, right now in the showers, felt crazy to me.

"Fuck," I hissed out as I grabbed hold of Theo's right hand and wrapped it around my thick hard member, his smaller hand sending shivers down my spine.

How did this fucking happen?

I'm the hardest I've ever been and it's all because of a guy, of all people.

Without so much as a word, he began touching me and the moment his hand started moving, I was riding on cloud nine because, it felt even better than it did when I sat and thought of him alone in my shower.

Suddenly, I heard voices come closer to the shower room but there was no way I was fucking stopping this for anybody so before they walked in, I closed the shower curtain and then turned to Theo, who was looking at me nervously, his hand still wrapped around my junk.

"They won't see us," I whispered, just as the door to the shower room opened and I heard a few guy voices come inside.

I pressed my finger to my lips, telling him to be quiet as he nodded his head, a mischievous grin forming on my lips once I see the panic in his eyes.

"Fuck man, I'm beat."

"I can't feel my fucking legs, I hate leg day man, I'd rather just skip this shit but you know my girl, got to keep this up if I want to get laid."

The guys laugh out as I kept my eyes on Theo's face, grinning once he started to blush and bit down on his lip hard, to stop from moaning out as I began stroking him faster.

This was risky but none of us were planning on stopping as he kept the pace around my length, eventually I felt Theo cry out quietly before I covered his mouth with my hand, to stop him from making any more noise as he came into my hand.

I was close, so fucking close and any moment now I was going to go through the fight of my life to not make a sound because fuck, I could feel it coming as his hand started squeezing me tighter as he rested his forehead on my chest.

There was no way I could hold it in anymore, I pulled my head back and held back a deep groan as I felt myself explode into Theo's smaller, paler hand, my whole-body twitching as I tried to hold myself together.

Both breathing heavily, I catch Theo's eyes in mine and as the guys around us started to shower and talk loudly amongst themselves, I leaned down and took a chance, after all, he could still push me away.

So, fuck it, I wanted to know how it felt.

I closed my eyes and captured his lips in mine, ignoring everything around me as I focused on what I was doing, after-all, it was a perfect opportunity to see how he felt about me.

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formulawonu · 3 years

Note

Hi! I have a request for you if you can, can a request based on “champagne problems” by taylor swift where either daniel, lando, lewis or carlos are dating the reader and think it’s time to propose, and they do it in front of their families or the whole grid but the reader says no, and they broke up, and years later they run into each other again and talk. you can choose the ending between fluff or keep it angst.

champagne problems / lewis hamilton

(gif is not mine! credits to the owner)

warnings: angsty :'(

a/n: i fell in love with this request, thank you so much for it. i got immensely sad writing the last few lines of this :/ taylor swift knows what she is doing. i hope my writing did justice to this beautifully sad song <//3 tried doing smth different and wrote in third person/more of lewis' pov. big cheers to lewis getting 100 wins — what an incredible feat!!! hope you guys enjoy this one :D

He thinks he sees her from across the room but an extra glance tells him it’s not her. She wouldn’t show up here. That isn’t her — something he’s had to learn ever since she left his life two years ago. He is here with someone new and she reminds him of the stars that never fail to show up in the night sky every night. She is constant and he doesn’t need to second guess with her. She understands who he is and knows what he thinks. He is genuinely happy. But she is not her.

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He says, looking up at the love of his life from where he is kneeling. They are surrounded by his family and their friends. The most important people in their lives that have become an extension of who they are and know how perfect the two of them are for each other. He planned it all out — the intimate dinner full of all the things she loved. Her favorite food, her favorite people. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Everyone in this room knew it was only a matter of time until they both took the next step forward in the relationship. In this moment, however, he only sees her. That is how it is whenever she is around. It feels like tunnel vision: all roads lead simply to her.

He has always believed that love was unique to different people. He is, no doubt, in love with his current girlfriend and he is so sure of that. She is the calm before and after every storm. He also knows that despite this, a piece of him and the love he is capable of giving will always remain with Y/N. He will never forget how it felt to love her, just as he knows she won’t ever forget loving him.

Something is wrong. All he sees is her and yet she looks terrified. Tears are forming in her eyes and there is an emotion that he can’t quite place yet. It is an emotion he doesn’t see often. “Y/N?” He whispers, trying to read her. At this moment, he doesn’t care that everyone is standing around the both of them. He just wants to make sure she is okay. She looks away from him and looks around the room. He squeezes her hand, trying to get her to just focus on him. He is trying to reassure her that everything is okay. She looks back at him then at the open small box in his other hand. She starts shaking her head, the tears now falling from her eyes. Everything seems to be going wrong.

“I love you, Lewis.” His girlfriend whispers as he sways her back and forth on the makeshift dance floor. It is his friend’s wedding. “I love you more.” He is satisfied with the way his life has turned out. It was difficult the first few months she had left his life and he honestly thought life wouldn’t be okay again. Everything reminded him of her. There were pieces of her in his apartment and pieces of her everywhere he went. Time passed by so slowly as if it wanted him to sink in the emptiness that came when he lost her. But he met her — she made everything bright again and allowed him to see colors in the world that turned grey. She was patient with him. She took the time to understand him and let him find himself again. He is happy. He is in love.

“I- I can’t.” She whispers, still shaking her head. The tears won’t stop falling from her eyes. He understands the emotion in her eyes now. She is overwhelmed. It is regret. He can feel tears building up in his own. Everything begins to spin around the two of them. “Lewis, I… I can’t.” He tries to remain holding her hand, but she forces hers out of his hold. He looks up at her, speechless. There are so many things he wants to tell her. He wants to tell her to forget about everyone around the two of them. He wants to tell her it doesn’t matter how it happens or that they don’t need to get married right away. He would be happy being engaged forever if it meant she would be by his side. He wants to tell her that they could ditch the party and just lock themselves up in their apartment if that was what she wanted. But he doesn’t. He can’t because she is long gone now. She has run outside of the room and has left him in the center of everyone’s gaze. He cannot move. He is stuck on one knee, with his mother’s ring in his hand. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. The first thing he does is close the box and drop it in his suit pocket. He slowly stands up, refusing to look at anyone else. He doesn’t know how to react or how to be. Everything is wrong.

While he is leading his girlfriend back to their table, something catches his attention in the corner of his eye. He has to blink a couple of times, trying to register that it is actually her. There, standing by the bar, is the girl who had left him two years ago. She is standing on her own, her body language still very familiar to him. She does not want to be seen and is trying to simply be a faceless stranger in the crowd. She would not be here if she didn’t need to, but his friends are her friends too and the bride is a good friend of hers. “That’s her, isn’t it?” His girlfriend says, following his gaze. “She’s beautiful.” He flashes a smile at her, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t think she was going to be here, actually. None of us have actually seen her since it happened.” “Do you want to say hi to her?” He fully focuses on his girlfriend now, trying to understand if she is challenging him or simply curious. All he sees is genuine questioning. “I think you should speak to her, Lewis.” He is unsure if that is the right decision. He does not know what he wants to say to her anyway. “Go. It will make you feel better, even if you don’t know what to say.” She gently nudges him towards her and he is left reluctantly walking towards the woman he has not spoken to since she left him kneeling.

“Hi.” Words escape the both of them, the casualness of a greeting seeming so unfitting for the two. “Hi.” She replies. “How ironic that we’re seeing each other here.” He offers, trying to break the ice. He is not used to this, the awkwardness enveloping the two of them when once in the past he felt he could talk about absolutely anything with her. She visibly draws back at the reminder of the last time they had seen each other too. “Why are you here, Lewis?” She asks with a smile on her face. She was never the type to beat around the bush, that much he knew. She always went straight to the point, never afraid to hear things she might not want to. Like ripping off a bandaid, she once said. “I honestly don’t know why either.” There was no point in lying to her. He doesn’t know what to say, neither does she, and yet it felt right that he could speak frankly to her about the events of the past. “You look happy,” She starts, looking genuinely pleased for him. “You deserve to be happy.” Two emotions bubble up inside of him, one he has not felt in ages. Frustration and defeat. It is all coming back to him.

“We could’ve been happy too.”

She sighs, refusing to meet his eyes. She is still surveying the room, taking in everyone celebrating the union of two lovers. He did not like that about her; she always knew how to hide her emotions. Better put, he did not like how he could not read her anymore. “I don’t want to fight you, Lewis. I didn’t come here to do that.” She picks up her glass of champagne that she has left on the counter of the bar, sipping at it. “Dom Pérignon.” She adds. The champagne she is drinking is her favorite and it is the same one that everyone was drinking the night it happened. Or should’ve happened. A wry smile forms on his face. “I know you don’t owe me an explanation nor should you have ever felt you owed me a marriage, but I just wish you talked to me about it. That was our thing. We always talked about it.” She finally meets his eyes, studying him.

“I just didn’t have anything to say.”

“How could you have nothing to say?”

“I did not know what to say.”

“Then you should’ve said that.”

“I did not have a reason, Lewis. Is that what you want to hear? When you got down on one knee, a thousand thoughts were in my head and none of them told me to say yes. I’m so sorry and you know I loved you immensely—I still do—but I could not for the life of me come up with a reason to know for sure I wanted to say yes.” Just like ripping off a bandaid.

He does not know what to say and he wants to laugh at how she is still able to leave him speechless after all this time. “Well, I’m sorry you felt that way.” That is all he is able to say in reply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes.” She finally meets his eyes, the familiar gaze of the woman he once swore he would give everything up for. “My mom wants a sorry too.” He finally says after a while, trying to lighten up the mood. “I miss her.” She replies, a small smile forming on her face. His mom absolutely loved her and held a special place in her heart for her. She was just as crestfallen as he was when she saw what had taken place two years ago. “She misses you too. Everyone kind of misses you too. I don’t understand why you had to disappear.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t me, Lewis. All of this,” She says, gesturing around the grand ballroom. “Is not me.” “Then why are you here?” He doesn’t mean it as an insult, he just wants to know. She frowns at him. “Because Joe and Louise are my good friends, Lew. I wasn’t planning to stay long, though. I just promised Louise I was going to come by and I keep my promises.” He knows she does. He shakes his head at her. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s nice to see you again, honestly. Nice to know you’re still alive.” “I know you didn’t. But I just don’t know who I am when I’m here. It’s all so….” She pauses, trying to think of the right word. “Intense? Overwhelming? Heavy? I don’t know. It just makes you feel so small.” He nods but he still can’t grasp that she had felt this way all this time. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. “Don’t blame yourself, Lewis. I can see you doing that now. It was just me.” There is amusement in her eyes and he can’t understand how she is so candid about all of this. “I just don’t understand how I feel like I didn’t- don’t know who you are. I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

She studies him, noting how the creases in his forehead have formed. Something he always does when he is deep in thought. “Lewis, you knew me better than anyone else in this world and I don’t want you to ever feel like you didn’t. What we shared was good, right? It was brilliant.” She offers him a small smile, a consolation for all that has gone on between them. “I will always love you. I don’t think I need to tell you that. You will always be special to me. But what was screaming at me when you got down on one knee was that whatever was happening… It wasn’t right. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever let you go into something so wholeheartedly with me in it half-heartedly. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone who would jump into darkness headfirst with you. I hope she is that for you.” She glances around the room again, probably noticing the eyes of spectators that have now noticed the both of you together again. She is beginning to get conscious. The emotions that were beginning to reveal themselves through her eyes are disappearing once again. She is withdrawing. He nods, trying to internalize everything she has just said.

“I’m sorry I lost you. I know you don't want me to apologize, but I’m sorry we ended like that. There are times I wish you were still in my life and there are times I still think about what it would be like if it was us in this position.” His words hang in the air, the both of them looking around the room. “But I’m doing okay. She’s great - I think you two would get along, actually. I honestly hope you’re doing okay. It sucks that I don’t know what you’re doing. I hope you know that you’re still always welcome to just hang out or whatever. Have a chat to update me on your life, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” She nods, smiling at him. She drinks the rest of her champagne before setting the glass back on the bar counter. “That is great to hear, Lewis. I still keep up with your races, you know? A hundred wins, you’ve finally done it. No matter what, I am always going to be proud.” She places a hand on his shoulder, a fleeting squeeze on it, then she drops it. “I’ll try not to be one. But either way, just know I’ll always be rooting for you.” She straightens out her dress then tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve gotta go.” She says, looking up at him. He tries to remember how she looks in this moment because he knows he doesn’t know the next time their paths will ever cross again. She is in a floor-length dress and her hair falls in waves just by her shoulders. Her eyes alight with assuredness and confidence, something that he now realizes he barely saw back then. She is happy too. That is all that matters. He nods, giving her a small smile. “Goodbye, Y/N.” She smiles back at him too. “Goodbye, Lewis.” She begins to walk away, not once looking back. Just like how it was two years ago.

“Hey, Y/N.” He calls out to her. She is not far enough for him to draw attention. She turns around, her head tiled to the side. “We almost had it all, didn’t we?” She chuckles and he can feel the sadness in it. She nods, still chuckling. “We really did. Cheers.”

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opheliadawnwalker3 · 3 years

Text

The Watching

Author’s Note: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s fic swap. I picked @sherrybaby14 :) Hope you like it hun and Merry Christmas!!

Synopsis: Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

Contains: strong sexual content, cunnilinguous, penetration, threesome, voyeurism, some audience participation, fluffy holiday cheer

Wacchinsrinn- Old Norse means “The Watching”

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

You stand in the elaborately decorated banquet hall, carefully nursing another full goblet of Asgard’s famous honeyed wine. Thor had left you alone, mere moments before, no doubt to personally welcome his people to the Yule celebration. In the corner, several Asgardian citizens play musical instruments and the rest are either drunkenly dancing, feasting on delicious foods or laughing uproariously. Eager faces are painted with intricate symbols and there is much joy and carefree energy in the air. Normally, you’re not such a wall flower, but being surrounded by Thor’s fiercely lively people is a whole new experience for you. You had already witnessed the burning of the wooden Yule wreath earlier and had cheered with the others when it was sent hurtling down the hill and fell among the stars. In the corner of the vast hall stands the Yule tree, decorated not with the colored glass balls you were accustomed to, but small statues of previous kings and mythical creatures. After seeing the God of Thunder for over a year, you were overjoyed to hear him say that he wanted to finally bring you back to his world. His kingdom.

It happened to be close to Christmas, but other than the typical mandatory bland office party and receiving a few Christmas cards, you really had no other plans. Why on Earth would you ever pass that up? The chance to not only see the place he grew up in, but to be among his people and culture. His friends and-

“Well, well...don’t we look fetching this evening?” A sly familiar voice utters behind you, erupting a subtle heat across the back of your neck. Turning, you see Loki, sharply donned with tailored green silks and a gray pelt clasped around his shoulders. Instead of his usual absurdly large golden horns, a delicate golden crown balances at his temple.

You raise your goblet to him. “You clean up rather nicely yourself.”

Loki tilts his head, keen emerald eyes slowly trailing down your body and you could almost swear he could see right through the crimson silk of your gown. His lips curl into a devious smile and your heart flutters against your will. “Do enjoy the festivities...mind the honeyed wines. They are much stronger than the tepid liquors served on Midgard.”

You roll your eyes as you defiantly take another sip. You would be lying if you said, you weren’t already feeling buzzed. The warmth that spreads across your cheeks, that familiar light headed feeling. You would have to pace yourself. You can’t make a fool out of yourself at your first Asgardian Yuletide. And you were here with Thor for God’s sake. You didn’t want to humiliate him or yourself.

A loud clang sounds near you and your attention is momentarily drawn to Volstagg, one of Thor’s infamous Warrior’s Three, laughing boisterously as he picks up his dropped axe. No doubt, in the middle of a drunken retelling of old battle stories.

Lips brush the shell of your ear and you automatically tense up. Your breath hitches as slender fingers ghost over your bare shoulders.

“I look forward, to seeing much more of you later.” Loki purrs huskily into your ear and you are rooted to the spot. His alluring voice holds dark promises. Your brows furrow in confusion and before you are able to ask just what he means by that, Thor’s voice cuts across the room. You look over to see him cross the room with jovial presence. His bright blue eyes crinkle with happiness at the sight of you.

Loki withdraws from you completely and you let out a sigh of relief. The wine...it must have been the wine. You would have to drink water to spread it out.

Seemingly unbothered at Loki’s closeness, Thor smiles warmly as he slips his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You sigh, relishing the comforting feeling of his lips and presence as you pull him in closer. For the past year, Thor had been a beacon of light in your boring, mundane life. He would entertain you for hours with tales of his childhood, battles and stories about his time with the Avengers. He made you feel exciting just by being in his presence. Feel incredibly safe just by being in his strong embrace. He never left you wanting whether physically, mentally or emotionally. You only hoped you did the same for him.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Thor’s deep voice rumbles against your mouth.

“I am. I just wish we could-”

“Ah there’s the lovely couple. Starting Wacchinsrinn a bit early are we not?” You recognize Fandral’s charming voice sounding next to you. You pull back from Thor slightly with a raised brow.

“Wacchinsrinn? What’s that?”

Before the smaller roguish blonde can answer you, Thor laughs and quickly begins to lead you away from the two men. Confused, you look back to see Fandral and Loki exchange knowing smiles.

“What on earth was that about?” You ask, setting your now empty goblet down on one of the long wooden tables. Funny, you hadn’t even remembered drinking it all.

“Just Fandral with one of his jokes. Pay the scoundrel no mind,” Thor replies playfully before spinning you around wildly among the other dancing patrons. You wish to press him further but a mixture of the otherworldly alcohol and contagious euphoria around you, causes your curiosity to melt away and you gather your skirts to join the dance.

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

About an hour later, Thor leads you down the hall by the hand. You stumble a bit and giggle with tipsy merriment as he turns the corner to open a pair of grand ornate doors. You tilt your head in confusion as you take in the lavish yet unfamiliar chambers within.

“Hey this isn’t the same room, you showed me earlier. This isn’t yours, right?”

“You’re right, Y/N. This is our room.”

“Ooo our room you say?” You tease as you take in your surroundings, Thor walking in behind you to shut the doors. Inside the chamber was a large king sized bed with a full canopy and intricately carved designs in the wood. The sheets were golden and there was a table set with trays of cheese and fruits and silver pitchers no doubt filled with mead and wine. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. You look back at Thor whose looking down at you with an expression you can’t quite decifer.

“What’s with all the chairs pointed facing the bed? Kind of an unusual arrangement, isn’t it?”

“It’s for...Wacchinsrinn.”

“There’s that word again. What is it?”

Before Thor can respond, there is a low chuckle and suddenly Loki appears next to you.

“Oh dear, you haven’t told her. How irresponsible and devious of you, brother.”

“Hush, Loki.” Thor looks down at you and brings a massive hand to cup your face. “Please forgive me, Y/N. I didn’t want you to worry or feel pressured to do anything.”

“Although it is an Asgardian tradition. I don’t believe Y/N wants to be the cause of the King’s refusal to uphold a tradition maintained for thousands of years.”

“Not the time, Loki...”

“I disagree. I think it’s the perfect time...”

“No he’s right. I’m not going to stand in the way of you upholding your kingly duties. Whatever you need to do, I’ll support you.” You encourage, placing a hand on Thor’s arm.

“How touching, but your amorous participation is very much required.” Loki interjects with a dangerous smirk and Thor sighs, clearly conflicted. You look back and forth between the pair.

“My what participation?”

Before Loki could reply, Thor raises his hand in front of him.

“Loki, leave us.”

“Oh, I think not. This is all rather entertaining for me.”

“Leave now.” Thor’s tone is tense and clipped and you can’t help feeling a little nervous. What is going on? Why all the secrecy? And what exactly is expected of you?

“So tense, brother. Perhaps you should have her tend to you first and help get those bothersome...kinks out.”

Thor says, nothing, merely glares at Loki, before the latter sighs in reluctant surrender.

“Very well, I suppose I could check on the rest of the rabble and see if they are ready to bear witness.” And with that, Loki disappears, leaving you and Thor alone once more. You look up at the god and cross your arms.

“Thor just tell me. What’s the tradition?” Your eyes widen briefly when you think back to all of the those Viking and Pagan shows you watched in mild preparation for the Yule celebration.

“I won’t have to do an animal sacrifice will I?”

Thor smiles and shakes his head as he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “No animal sacrifices will be required of you, I promise.”

“Okay...then what is expected of me?”

Thor pauses for a moment in quiet contemplation, gathering his thoughts before he eventually sighs. “On Asgard, the act of coupling is a merry and happy occasion. Asgardians do not view such an act with such...modesty as on Midgard.”

You nod, following along and very curious as to where this is going.

“And so...the notion of sharing such a joyous act with others...is considered...a generous gift.”

You eyes widen slightly as the realization begins to wash over you. “And when you say sharing...you mean...??”

Thor gives you an embarrassed smile. “Those closest to us shall bear witness to our union.”

“So...your companions are just going to watch us?”

“If that is agreeable to you. It is not uncommon for them to join in should all participating consent.”

You chew on your bottom lip and cross your arms. “So that’s what everyone has been referring to all night.”

“Yes.”

You contemplate for a few moments more, weighing your options in your head. You should be appalled that your boyfriend just sprang this on you, royalty or not. But you just can’t find yourself to be angry. On the contrary...the idea is intriguing. You’d always been fascinated by the thought of voyeurism. Whether watching someone else or being watched yourself. But you’d never had the courage to explore it. There was even once an incident where Hawkeye accidentally walked into the room while you were riding Thor at Avengers Tower. Instead of being embarrassed...you only clenched tighter around Thor’s cock. Even felt a pang of disappointment when Hawkeye quickly left the room with amused apologies. Maybe this was your chance to finally explore one of your fantasies.

You finally look back up at Thor, his handsome face etched with worry and concern.

“Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to do this. For you, but mostly for me,” You admit, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. You see a flash of green in the corner of your eye and Loki appears next to you, holding two goblets full of wine. He gives you an impish smirk as he holds one out to you.

“How about a little more wine to take the edge off. Perhaps numb your defenses a bit,” Loki drawled as you eagerly accept the wine. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Thor watches you carefully as you take several large pulls of the sweet wine, embracing the numbing warmth that pools down your body.

“Are you sure about this ,Y/N?” Thor asks softly, his usual booming voice now quiet with uncertainty.

You set your now empty goblet on the table next to you and give him a confident smile. Sure, you felt emboldened by the wine, but you also felt very eager for what lays ahead Thor reaches up to cup your jaw with both hands, his bright blue eyes melting any doubts you might have had.

“Because if you’re not, then damn the traditions. I will never ask you to do anything you’re not ready for. We can leave now, go back to Midgard and celebrate your traditional Christmas.”

You feel your heart swell with appreciation and adoration and you turn your head slightly to kiss his fingers. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I will. You mean more to me that anything.”

“Then I want to do this. I’m happy to do it.”

Thor leans down to press his lips to yours once more in a sweet gentle kiss to which you eagerly reciprocate. Next to you, Loki chuckles as he takes a sip from his goblet.

“Not to break up this touching little moment, but the others are getting restless.”

Thor reluctantly pulls away, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Then we shall not keep them waiting.”

The potent alcohol flows within you, but something else pools within. Excitement and pure unadulterated desire. Loki chuckles and you feel his hands on your hips as he presses in close behind you. Surprised, you look up to Thor for guidance, but he merely stares at the pair of you with a calm unbothered expression.

“And will you allow any of the witnesses to enjoy her as well?” Loki insinuates, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I myself, am curious if she tastes as good as she looks.” Your breath hitches and your heart begins to pound harder at his carnal implications.

Thor smirks and gestures down to you. “That is entirely up to you. If you desire another, then it shall be done.”

You let out a soft gasp, completely taken aback by this turn of events. But certainly not upset at the prospect. You would be lying to yourself if you never thought about how alluringly charming and attractive Loki is. So very different from your Thor, yet enticing all the same. When will you get another opportunity like this?

“Yes...I...I want you both.”

“Very well, then let them all in and we’ll begin the Wacchinsrinn.”

Loki presses a brief kiss to your neck, before gracefully leaving the room. You feel your nerves beginning to flutter in your gut, battling against your arousal and the tension in the air from the possibilities.

Thor steps up to you and carefully traces his hand down your front. Your nipples harden through the thin silk and you lick your lips.

“Who...who will be watching us?”

“The Warriors Three, Lady Sif, Loki and Heimdall will watch from the Rainbow Bridge since he cannot personally attend. But do not be nervous. You are perfection. This is a gift not only for my companions but us as well.”

You take a deep breath, heartbeat speeding up when you hear approaching footsteps and the large ornate doors open.

Fandral walks in first, his eyes drinking you in. “Ahh lovely, Y/N...you look ready for your first Wacchinsrinn. Tell me, has Thor prepared you properly? Because if not, I offer you my services. I’m told I’m quite talented in such matters.”

“Oh do settle down, Fandral. She has already chosen me to help...alleviate the tension. Do enjoy your seat, though.” Loki retorts playfully as he unclasps the fur from around his shoulders.

Fandral winks at you as he gracefully drops in his seat. “Well I suppose that silver tongue has its uses after all.”

The combination of alcohol, nerves, and your excitement for things to come, make your skin tingle with anticipation.

Lady Sif follows close behind, dressed elegantly in a fitted gown of midnight blue. Her usually tied up long hair, hangs down her back in loose curls. She takes her place in the middle seat and crosses her legs expectantly as she gives you a small encouraging smile. She gives a side eye to Volstagg, who decided to bring a large turkey leg to the ceremony, as he sits next to her.

“Honestly...must you eat even while we bear witness?”

Volstagg lets out a good humored laugh as he takes a bite of the roasted meat. “What is the point of enjoying such stimulating entertainment without filling my gullet? No point in doing things half way, I say.”

Hogun silently joins the group and crosses his arms, his stoic face betraying nothing. Thor stands tall and acknowledges all who are present.

“Now that we are all here, its time to begin. We thank those closest to us in sharing this moment. May this gift offer you many blessings and good omens on and off the battlefield.”

“And what a gift it is,” Exclaims Fandral, holding up his own pint of mead.

“Hear, hear!” Volstagg agrees excitedly. Sif and Hogun remain silent, but their subtle expressions hold a keen interest.

The Warriors cheer and you can’t help but smile at the almost absurd nature of it all.

“My desired and I shall drink from the cup and then proceed with Wacchinsrinn,” Thor exclaims as he holds out another goblet will only half full. The both of you drink from it and Loki takes the empty goblet away. Thor wastes no time undressing with unwavering confidence and leans down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

“It is time to be worshipped, like the goddess you are,” Thor purrs in a husky voice against your lips as his hands trail down your waist. His pretty words and deep tone makes your thighs clench together as your pussy throbs.

You feel Loki press in close behind you and he carefully pushes your hair off your neck. Their closeness is intoxicating. “But first you must bare yourself to us,” Loki whispers lowly in your ear as dexterous fingers make swift work of the clasps on your shoulders. The top slips down revealing your breasts and you gasp when Thor’s hands begin caressing with eager, calloused hands. Loki grips your hips as his mouth traces a tantalizing path up your neck.

Your fingers tangle in Thor’s blonde locks when he lowers himself to capture a pebbled nipple in his mouth. His mouth is hot and he licks and nibbles your breasts. You’re suddenly feeling very flushed, your skin scorching under their ministrations.

You feel Loki’s teeth against your throat and he chuckles into your ear. “You should think yourself fortunate. Our great grandfather would often bend his women over the table in the banquet hall during Wacchinsrinn. For all of Asgard to see. This way is far more...intimate.” With that he grabs your chin and kisses you greedily.

After a few moments, the two men lead you to the bed. Thor sits down first and pulls you back between his spread legs. His cock full and hard against your back. His kisses you once more and you feel his hands slide up your thighs, taking the crimson silk of your skirts with it. You lean back against his thick muscled body and stare up at Loki, who remains at the foot of the bed fixed with an expectant sneer.

“Would you like Loki to taste you? Allow him to thoroughly ready your body for me?” Thor questions as his fingers reach your eager cunt beneath the silk. You moan, your hips raising slightly to feel every caress of his fingers. He chuckles arrogantly and you hear the lewd sounds of his fingers easily slipping inside you.

“Well...it seems she’s already quite ready. We may not need your services after all, Loki,” Thor exclaims playfully, displaying his fingertips already soaked in your arousal.

“That may be brother, though I should like to hear it from her lips that she does not desire my mouth on her delectable quim.” Loki replies as he slowly pulls the green tunic over his head with smug ease, revealing his pale yet toned upper body. Both men know you’re not saying no at this point. In fact, no, is the farthest thing from your mind.

You give him a mischievous grin as you beckon him with just the crook of your finger and Loki obliges, crawling up between your spread thighs with a dangerous smile. He looks as though he may just devour you whole.

When his mouth meets your cunt, you immediately relax back against Thor, enjoying every sensation as Loki unravels you. His tongue glides along your slit with expert ease, rolling and flicking over your throbbing clit. Thor’s beard tickles your bare shoulder as he nips the skin and caresses your breasts. You felt trapped between the two brothers in the most heavenly way.

“How does she taste, Loki?” You hear Volstagg call out and your eyes snap open. You had almost forgotten you were being watched. You bite back a whine when Loki raises up slightly, your cunt already missing his mouth.

“Better than the finest of delicacies on Asgard. She truly is a delicious well of vanilla and honey.” Loki brags and your breath hitches when his lips immediately return to you, wrapping around your clit and gently sucking.

“I knew it. Pay up Fandral,” you hear Volstagg boast and Fandral sighs as he drops a few coins in his companions outstretched hand.

Beneath you, Thor undulates his hips into you and your cunt clenches tightly, wanting to be filled.

“I can feel Heimdall’s ever watchful eyes upon us. He is thoroughly enjoying the sights as well. He wonders if you would like my cock deep inside you with my brother’s mouth still upon you.” Thor whispers softly into your ear as he pinches a nipple.

Between Loki’s adept mouth and Thor’s touches and carnal words, you can barely form words of your own. But you manage just the same.

“God yes. Please, Thor...” You mewl pathetically as your thighs twitch around Loki’s shoulders. His fingers massage and squeeze your spread thighs.

With that, Thor raises your hips and lines your soaked entrance with his tip. Loki raises his head slightly to follow your cunt. His piercing green eyes staring up hungrily at you. Being worshipped by these men...feeling several pairs of eyes on you at once...its all very intoxicating.

“Lower yourself upon me. Let me feel you clench desperately around me.” Thor commands softly against your temple, his hands gripping your hips and holding you above him. You nod eagerly and you sink down onto him completely. Your pussy is dripping and more than ready, yet Thor’s thick shaft still stretches you slightly and the pair of you moan loudly. Loki chuckles against your flesh, sending vibrations over your clit and making your cunt tighten around Thor.

“By the gods...your grip is always so exceptional. I could just feel you squeeze me all day, though I’d be fighting the urge to drive into you with everything I have.”

“Move her skirts. We would like to see too,” Lady Sif commands from her seat. You briefly raise your eyes to meet hers and her expression is heated and very much satisfied.

“As the lady commands,” Thor agrees as he rips the silk away, baring the rest of you to the room.

You mewl loudly as Loki begins to speed up his tongue, sucking at your clit a little harder. Your fingers reach up to tangle in his dark tresses as he brings your body closer and closer. Your hips roll atop Thor and you continue to mercilessly squeeze his cock sheathed inside you. That familiar icy hot numbing sensation spreads over you as your body climbs higher and higher towards the peak.

“She’s definitely close. Such a sweet thing, they’ve barely had to touch her,” Fandral observes smugly.

“True, but I still bet that she will last through the night.” Lady Sif replies with subtle arrogance.

“Ah, shall we bet on it then, Lady Sif?”

“You have nothing I want, Fandral.”

“How about if I polish your armor for a full moon?”

“What, and let you leave spots all over my-”

“Will you two stop your incessant blathering? She’s about to fall and I would like to enjoy it in its entirety,” Hogun finally quips in with a surprisingly gruff voice.

You cry out as Loki’s mouth unravels you, causing your cunt to pulsate tightly around Thor. He grips you atop him as he hisses into your ear.

After a few more languid licks of your slit, Loki finally sits up from between your thighs and pulls you into a deep kiss. Your inner walls tighten around Thor yet again when you taste your own juices on Loki’s lips.

The room erupts in applause as the Warriors clap and cheer wholeheartedly.

“A good first round, I’d say!” Volstagg exclaimed as he slams his empty goblet upon the floor in celebration.

“I agree. I think Y/N is fully warmed up now. We’re going to need much more wine and mead before we proceed forward.”

“And more bread!” Volstagg adds, tossing an empty turkey leg upon his plate.

“I wonder if Y/N, will allow Loki to continue to tend to her,” Lady Sif muses aloud.

At that, Loki finally pulls away from you, licking your bottom lip with an imperious smirk. “I will of course, perform as such, should she require it of me.”

Thor laughs, clamping a hand on Loki’s bare shoulder. “Well down, brother. But I should like you to sit this next one out for now. I wish to ravage her myself this time.”

“Such a bore...but I will concede for now.” Loki sighs snidely before lightly touching your jaw and leaving the bed.

With Thor’s cock still buried inside you, you look up at him with an impish expression. “So, there’s more to Wacchinsrinn? We’re not finished yet?”

He brushes his lips against your temple as his hands tighten on your hips. “Oh no, my love. We go until you cannot go any longer. When you have had enough, then we will stop. But I know you and....I know you have several more hours in you.”

As he thrusts up into you again accompanied by the supportive cheers of his companians, you smile, truly feeling full filled for the first time in a long time.

From his post on the Rainbow Bridge, the ever watchful Heimdall smiles at the glorious sights before him.

Taglist: @sherrybaby14 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @lucifers-trash-stash @cherienymphe @imanuglywombat @threeminutesoflife @charmed-asylum @thefangirllife @justagirlinafandomworld @queenoftheworldisdead @searchforanotherway @sapphirescrolls @hurricanerin @cockslut-padalecki @different-type-of-hell @darkandinvitingfics @buckybarnesplumwhore @oneoftheprettynerds

#thor x reader au #thor x reader smut #dark! thor x reader #thor oneshot #thor odinson #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor smut #smut fic #loki x reader #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n

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miyaniacs · 3 years

Text

The One Night Stand

Toji x fem!reader / Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

A/n: hey sooo i know i haven’t updated anything... but I’m in my Gojo AND Toji feels sooo part one of something? Or just a one shot? Who knows, tell me if any of you is interested in a part two.

Warnings: slight NSFW, mentions of alcohol and a blackout (nothing illegal happened!) and typos, i was just too lazy to read through this mess lol probs going to correct it tomorrow.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader , Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Form: oneshot

Taglist: @laceymorganwrites

You sigh, your body slowly waking you up, due to the desperate need to go to the toilet. Trying to get the blanket off your body, eyes still closed, you frown. It’s stuck. Why is it stuck? Trying to wiggle out of the blanket, you move around in your bed, desperate to get it unstuck.

Suddenly you hear something groan and a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into something hard.

Rock hard.

And warm.

And sculptured.

It feels human?

Just like the arm around your waist.

Your eyes shoot open.

After adjusting to the bright sunlight, you realize some things.

This definitely isn’t your room

There is a person behind you

Your body hurts more than your head

And you’re naked ( judging by your bra hanging from the table and your parties laying on the floor.

Shit Shit SHITTT you try to move out of the grip of the person behind you, yet you can’t move, he is strong, at least your drunk self was still able to stick to your type.

After a few minutes, the grip on your waist tightens.

“Fucking stop moving.” The male behind you growls in an incredibly deep smoothing voice, which - sadly - makes your legs press together and your back arches a bit more.

“Mhhh... on a second thought... keep on moving babe.” He chuckles lowly and his hand grabs your hips, pushing them more into his body.

He starts grinding on you, his lips leaving rough kisses down your neck.

His hand move downwards, finding its way between your legs.

“Already wet, I thought you’d had enough last night.” He teases and bites down on your - already purple - neck.

His hands and lips make it really hard for your brain to find the missing pieces. Missing pieces as in: His Name.

“Toji.” He chuckles, “Remember it, I want to hear you scream it again.”

And with that, he turns you around and moves on top of you.

Your mouth falls open.

No.

How the hell were your drunk self able to get THIS guy to take you home.

Holy Shit he was hot.

This dangerous kind of hot, you knew he was trouble..... NO FOCUS BRAIN! You won’t play a Taylor Swift song now.

You close your eyes.

FUNCTION AND FOCUS BRAIN!

FUNCTION AND FO-

Focusing suddenly becomes really easy the second you feel his lips kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your eyes shoot open.

“You’re here with me?” He smirks and you just gulp.

In a matter of seconds, his face is close to yours, one of his hand wrapped around your throat and the other pinning your arms on your chest.

“Focus and you get a good fuck. If not, you can leave right now... don’t think you can stay after I’m done with you tho.” He whispers, his lips gazing over yours.

“Not that I planned to stay in there first place.” You huff, finally finding your voice.

“Oh she can speak.”

“Now, care to show me what happened last night or can I leave now.”

“You really are a lightweight huh?”

But before you can answer, he buries his face in between your thighs while he presses your legs up to your chest, making your plan to answer ending in a moan.

////

“Ohhhhh, someone had some fun last nightttttt”

“Shut up Satoru.” You smack the back of his head and sit down next to him.

“Hey Y/n!” Yuji and Nobara say in union, meanwhile Megumi only grumbles something probably not even him understood.

Confused you look over at Satoru.

“I invited Nanami and his dad.” He shrugs.

“Nanami’s dad?” You ask teasingly.

“No you idiot. Megumis dad.” Gojo snaps your forehead and sighs, “Tell me, why are you my best friend.”

“That is exactly what I ask Y/n every time I see her.” You turn around looking at Nanami, your lips start to form a smile, but you quickly stop as soon as you see the person behind him.

“Nanami! Toji!” Gojo greats them.

“You’re okay there child?” The person named Toji, asks in a fake worrying voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo waves his hand in front of your face, your head slowly turns towards Gojo, eyes wide open, mouth opening and closing.

“WOW.” Gojo huffs, “YOU ARE STARSTRUCK BY TOJI WHILE I GRACE YOU. WITH MY BEAUTY EVERY DAMN DAY!”

Everyone laughs and you turn red.

The two males sit down, Toji right next to you, while Nanami sits next to Yuji, who shows him one of his biggest smiles.

“I need a drink.” You say and get up.

“Let me help youuuuu.” Gojo sings and quickly gets up, putting his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the bar.

“YOU HOE!” He scream whispers.

“SAYS YOU!” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest.

“You let Megumis DAD fuck you. And here I am thinking I was the kinky one.” He wiggles his eyebrows and lowers his sunglasses, looking directly at you.

“ I DID NOT KNOW HE WAS HIS DAD!” You try your best to explain yourself. “ I have no idea what happened last night-“

“... well i can think of what happened... “

“Shut up Gojo. I woke up next to him okay....”

“Andddddd round 2?” He tresses you again.

“Judging by the way my whole body hurts, it had to at least be round 4.” You groan.

“A tequila sunrise.” Gojo orders.

“Just a Tequila... no make it two.” You sigh and hide your face in Gojos chest. Inhaling the smell of his cologne and wrap your arms around his waist, nuzz your face in his black and red shirt.

“Satoruuuu help me. For once, be a supportive best friend.”

“I WAS ABOUT TO HELP YOU. But here you are assuming that I’d never help you so nope. You can deal with Toji alone now.” He grabs his cocktail and walks back to the table.

Rolling your eyes, you quickly drown your two shots.

Putting on your best fake smile, you walk back to the others, sit down across from Megumi and next to his dad.

“Y/n, my son just told me how incredibly you are at teaching him and the others.” He smirks and looks at your from the side.

“Oh yeah... I just help Gojo out with the kids ... or help them dealing with Gojo. I’m not quite sure.” You laugh.

“Definitely the second one.” Nanami says and takes a sip from his beer.

“And I though for ONCE you’d be a SUPPORTIVE BEST FRIEND BUT NO!” Gojo says and dramatically waves around with his hands.

Glaring at him, you huff, “Says the one that ditched me for a quick fuck.”

“Are you still jelly baby?” Gojo coos and rests his head in his hand, pouting at you.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes and slightly move away from him.

“Ohhh that’s why you moaned his name last night.” Tojo whispers in your ear.

#jjk hcs #jjk oneshots #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk toji #gojo x reader #gojo oneshot #toji x reader #toji headcanons #toji x you #gojo headcanons #gojo x you #🔪

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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath.

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways.

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence.

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed.

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again.

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank.

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued.

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom.

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt.

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more.

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching.

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa #mafia au bnha #mafia au mha #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

hange and levi being a married a couple and going on vacation, because i desperately want for this semester to end and go relaxing somewhere near the sea

usually hange and levi just go whenever hange wants to. levi doesn't really like going on vacations and he's happy to just chill at home, but since he's married to the most unchill person ever, he lets hange choose their destination

last year, they went on a tour to europe, and after that relatively calm vacation (it wasn't too calm, though, after all, hange was there and she was dragging levi from one sight location to another, talking his ear off about history), levi was expecting something crazier like a hike in the mountains or a trip to the jungle

instead, hange told him that he gets to pick this year, because she's too exhausted to think of something exciting

obviously, levi chooses a trip to the sea because a) he'd be able to relax and actually rest and b) the sight of hange in bikini is something he would never get tired of

so it's decided and they pack their suitcases and go to the sea

the first day of the vacation, levi wakes up and hange isn't there. he's disappointed, but definitely not surprised

he takes the sun cream, puts on his swimming trunks and goes outside

hange isn't by the pool, hange isn't in the bar but levi didn't expect her to be in any of those places. he goes to the beach and there hange is, rolling around in sand and looking for god knows what like a total weirdo. people are giving her strange looks, but hange doesn't notice. hange does what she's interested in and doesn't care what everyone else thinks

levi's heart swells as he looks at his weirdo, and fleetingly he thinks that something must be very, very wrong with him, because that weirdo is the one who captured his heart

he doesn't complain though

he doesn't complain that hange is in a swim suit instead of a bikini, but he's a tiniest bit disappointed

still, in levi's eyes, his weirdo looks good no matter what hideous outfit she's wearing

after ten minutes of levi standing there and watching his spouse like a total creep (people are starting to give him funny looks too, but levi doesn't notice. levi is staring at someone he likes, he doesn't care what everyone thinks), hange finally takes note of him

she runs to him, wraps her arms around him and asks if he wants to build a sandcastle

"no," levi answers and proceeds to build a sandcastle

levi constantly warns hange about getting sunburned. he pesters her not to stay in the sun for too long all the time

in the end, he's the one who gets sunburned

his face is all red, and hange can't stop laughing

levi is so pissed, everything hurts and his face feels so hot and the only salvation is hange's sweet kisses

levi gets hit on so much!!!

he'd be chilling near the pool, minding his own business and sipping on some cocktail and women would be all over him, asking him to help with applying the sun cream or simply trying to engage him in conversation

it never works

and then hange shows up, hair wild, in a blindingly bright green swimsuit and crocs, with a bucket full of shells, and levi looks at her like she's the best thing in his life

no one can't understand how that union had happened, but it's hard not to notice how enamored with each other hange and levi are

in the evening, when hange drinks a little too much cocktails, they go dancing. hange puts on a sundress, wraps her hands around his neck, and levi feels like the happiest man in the world

when hange finally puts on a bikini, levi is once again near the pool. he sees hange and literally chokes on his cocktail

as hange frantically pats his back, levi still coughing awfully, he thinks that hange in a bikini is a sight worth dying for

#don't mind me i just want summer to start #it's so gloomy where i live😩😩😩#i just want the sun and put on shorts or even a dress #levihan

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by-nina · 3 years

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A Cordial Invitation

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 4 – Communiqué Rating: K+ (light drinking) Genre: Comedy/Fluff Word Count: 2,840

A/N: This fic takes place when Roy and Hughes are both still stationed in East City, before Hughes is transferred to Central—or in an AU where that happens, if that wasn't the case in canon. Brain empty, no thoughts but Royai. Screw canon. What's important is that Hughes is here. 😂

There is the briefest pause as Hughes leaps back, startled by the outburst, then he laughs again upon seeing the look on Roy's face. Roy can only shake his head in horror—what the hell does the man find so funny? Well, he might have laughed at this little comedy of errors himself if the situation weren't so ridiculously flustering for him. Instead, he is left to imagine it in sheer panic. R. Mustang. Riza Mustang.

His face is burning red.

———

MAES HUGHES, son of Thomas and Evangeline Hughes,

and

GRACIA EVANS, daughter of Rupert and Georgina Evans,

are delighted to announce their blessed and loving union come Saturday, the 25th of June 1910. The ceremony shall take place at Charlotte Hill, attended by their immediate family and beloved friends. Comprising their entourage are Mr. A. Armstrong, Mr. and Mrs. H. Elliott, Miss S. Garber, Mr. and Mrs. C. Marshall, and Mr. and Mrs. R. Mustang.

———

Five different people have congratulated Roy—two of them expressing mild surprise at his previously unknown marriage—by the time he comes across the root of his very confusing Friday morning. He reads the announcement in the paper thrice, flipping the page back and forth as if doing so might correct the error. When it doesn't, he picks up the receiver of his office phone, then replaces it and instead decides to see the man himself.

He passes by Breda and Havoc on the way out, but he isn't quite sure if they’re watching him because they know what's going on, or if they're just as puzzled as he is.

Two floors down, Roy raps away at the door of the Intelligence Division office. "Hughes," he calls out. "Hughes, I need to talk to you about—"

He cuts himself off, rubbing his temple as he realizes the pointlessness of his visit. It's at this moment too that Maes Hughes opens the door with that old, damning grin, the one Roy has known from Hughes' courtship with Gracia and all through their engagement. It's the grin that precedes the talk, as Hughes has annoyingly come to call it. Roy is ready with any of several retorts, such as—

"I don't have time for this, Hughes," or;

"Go bother someone else," or;

"Stop telling me to get married, I'm not looking for a girlfriend, leave me alone—"

But to Roy’s surprise, he doesn't find reason to say any of these today.

"What brings you here, old pal?" Hughes chirps in a tone that hardly suggests he has Roy's romantic prospects on his mind at the moment. Of course he doesn't—his wedding is just around the corner, and it's not like he's marrying Roy.

Roy opens his mouth, closes it, and sighs as he enters the office. He heads straight to Hughes' desk, where he drops his copy of the East City Times, folded open to show the incriminating page.

"Oh, you've seen the announcement!" Hughes is beaming. "I would've taken out an ad every single day after the proposal, but here we are! Can you believe I'm getting married tomorrow?"

"Thanks to your constant reminders over the past three months, yes, Hughes, I can," Roy says dryly. "But how come your announcement is printed like that?"

It's only then that Hughes realizes that an error, not excitement, brought his best man to his office. Roy manages to remain patient as Hughes leans over the paper, a finger trailing the announcement word for word until he reaches the end. Hughes then grabs the paper right up to his eyes and blinks incredulously, and his expression quickly changes. It’s somewhere between incredulity, hilarity, and exasperation—as much as a cheery man like Hughes is capable of, anyway. Hughes breaks into laughter and shakes his head.

"It's not funny, Hughes,” Roy snaps, but not quite. He isn’t so upset as to be eager to start an argument. “I've spent the entire morning wondering what the hell people were congratulating me for!"

"Oh my goodness, Roy, I am so sorry that this happened. I truly am." Hughes rubs at the side of his head, tutting in good-natured disbelief. "I can’t believe it, and on the day before my wedding, too! Ah, but I think I know what happened."

"Mm-hmm?"

"I went to the newspaper office yesterday over lunch, right? It was a last-minute thing because my beautiful bride-to-be doesn't really want too much of a fuss over our wedding. So, at their office, I fill out a form—"

"Mm-hmm."

"—and these announcements are usually short, so there wasn't much space on the form. I write down the date, the location, and then I start to run out of space towards the end as I'm listing the guests."

"Mm-hmmm."

"So, the names are squeezed into the little space I've got left, there's the Marshalls, the Elliotts... and I suppose they assumed that you were a couple with Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"WHAT?"

His face is burning red.

"No, no, no," Roy sputters, "this—this is serious, Hughes! Hawkeye is my adjutant, and if anyone from the top brass hears this and thinks—"

"Okay, slow down, Roy. Deep breath," Hughes says, gripping Roy's shoulders. "Let's be real. They're not actually gonna think that you would just carelessly break military laws. Ambitious youngster rising up the ranks after becoming the Hero of Ishval, who would suspect you? You know what else, they also think you're some kind of heartbreaker going on dates all over East City, up to Central—and her name isn't actually on the paper next to yours, is it?"

"But what—but—so why was it written like that anyway?"

"You’re right. Lieutenant Hawkeye is an important guest. I owe her an apology.” Hughes pauses in thought. “But while we’re on the topic, maybe you two should go together, considering how much she’s actually helped with your best man duties. You know what I mean? It shouldn’t be a big deal. Take her along as a companion, save yourselves the trouble of finding dates—don't play cool, I know you haven't invited anyone—it'll be more convenient for the two of you!"

Roy runs a hand over his face, now nearly out of things to argue about short of something more personal, something more selfish, more... honest. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hughes," he sighs sharply, interrupting his own thoughts. "All right, the announcement—it’s not your fault, we can let that go. And I’ll extend your apology to Lieutenant Hawkeye—”

“And take her as your date?”

“No, because she’s already invited anyway, so there's no reason for me to do that—and if I do, then I'd have to explain to people that I'm not actually married, and she—"

"Come on, it'll be no trouble. No one’s gonna think much of it!”

"I’m thinking much of it! It’s just not a good look.” Roy begins his way back to his own office, stopping at the door just to finish saying, “And I’m not dragging Lieutenant Hawkeye into your crazy ideas!”

———

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, would you like to go to Hughes’ wedding together?”

There is a brief pause when, all at once, Roy bristles with panic for the impulsive utterance, and mild surprise breaks through Lieutenant Hawkeye’s typically impassive face, and Lieutenant Hawkeye regains her composure as Roy watches and wonders what she actually thinks of the invitation, hoping that it’s welcome.

“I don’t think I could, Sir,” she says, deadpan, “Mrs. Mustang would be devastated.”

“What the—Hawkeye, you know I don’t have a wife—”

“Damn it!”

Breda bursts into laughter behind them, drowning out Havoc’s frustrated groan as the latter reaches into the pocket of his trousers, then drops a few coins onto the table where they have been working. Roy scowls at them, partly perplexed and partly exasperated by having to deal with the ridicule twice over. When Breda recovers somewhat, he explains, “We had a bet. Havoc was so sure you really were secretly married.”

“I was counting on it, okay?” Havoc grumbles. “I haven’t had a proper girlfriend since I started working with Mustang, no one will even look twice at me—”

“There you go,” the Lieutenant says as Havoc and Breda banter on. She continues sorting the reports on Roy’s desk into dated envelopes, having been momentarily distracted by his surprise invitation. “Any of Havoc’s girlfriends would be happy to be your date to the wedding.”

“Well, I just thought—I mean, Hughes suggested that maybe it would be more convenient for you and me—for the two of us to attend together.” Roy clears his throat when he realizes that his voice is quivering slightly. What is he so nervous about? He affects a smile to regain a casual confidence. “As colleagues, of course. Friendly companions in the entourage. That’s how all of this happened, there was a mistake with our names when they printed Hughes’ wedding announcement.”

The Lieutenant remains quiet, focused on her work. A moment later, Roy asks over the sudden, quiet thumping in his chest, “Are you… already bringing someone with you?

“No,” she promptly replies, eyes remaining on the reports before her. “I was just wondering what brought this on. You don’t owe me a favor for helping out with your preparations.”

The nervous thumping subsides, only to be quickly replaced by dull dismay. Never mind the idea of being each other’s date to a special occasion, or the imaginary scenario of being a couple. He and Riza—he and the Lieutenant have been working together for over a year now. He would like to think that in that time, they would have broken down enough walls between them for her not to think that everything they do or say to each other can only be strictly pragmatic. Roy certainly sees her in a warm, friendly light, not unlike the way he did as a boy. Surely she could at least not hold him at arm’s length after a year.

Roy finds it easy to be honest when he says, “It’s not that at all. And it’s not just because of what Hughes said.” A careful pause. “I think I genuinely would enjoy your company.”

He watches Riza carefully. No expectations, he reminds himself—and then he childishly proceeds to imagine all the ways that she could react to the whole situation. Roy lingers a little too long on the scenario where she might have imagined him with some mysterious Mrs. Mustang, then felt the relief of disproven jealousy when he explained what actually happened. No—it’s far too complicated an expectation for the time being.

She looks up at last.

“All right then, Sir.”

———

The Hugheses’ wedding is the happiest, most beautiful thing that Roy remembers witnessing in a long time. The ceremony proper and the reception beginning at sunset both take place in a pavilion overlooking a lake, awash in shades of gold from the table draperies to the twinkling lights and the flowers swaying in the breeze. There isn’t anyone in his opinion who deserves a day like this more than his best friend, which is why when Roy prepares to give his best man's toast that evening, he finds himself easily turning sentimental. He drains his glass of wine, then pours himself another just before beginning his speech.

Towards the end of the toast, he says, “Gracia, I have no words for how grateful I am that Maes met you, and that you’ve loved him through some of the most difficult times of his life. You showed him that it’s possible to be truly happy even when it might appear to be difficult or impossible.”

He draws a quick, sharp breath as emotion wells up in him. Laughing to conceal it, he quickly adds, “I’m sure he tells you that enough, of course, but I’m saying this now because you’ve also made the rest of us believe it. We all see it in him. And the two of you give us hope that it can happen for anyone, with anyone who can break down our walls.” Roy raises his glass towards the newlywed couple. “Maes, Gracia, may you be a home for each other for the rest of your lives.”

The modest crowd erupts in applause, accompanied by the clinking of glasses all around the pavilion and sweet, light music for the Hugheses’ first dance. Between the spirits he consumed during his speech and the infectious joy that fills the venue, Roy soon starts to feel lightheaded. He steers clear of the dance floor as the guests pair off and weave around one another, and it’s easy to spot Riza in the crowd from where he stands.

Riza sits at the far side of a table occupied by some of Gracia’s friends, chatting away good-naturedly with a drink in hand. She’s laughing, and what a sight she is on this night away from work, so relaxed and carefree, wearing a honey brown dress that brings out the color of her eyes. She should be dancing, Roy thinks; she should be enjoying this night, not just sitting back to watch it go by as if she had come here alone.

Well, some date he is.

It’s even more outrageous now, the idea of being Riza’s date to this wedding. Not that he knew what he was thinking even when he asked her to go together, but he never actually planned as far ahead as dancing or dining or anything they can do together now that he has completed his duties as the best man. Above all, this isn’t how he had pictured Riza to look tonight, so warm and friendly and beautiful—no, different from the one he invited to be his date yesterday. This is closer to a Riza he hasn’t seen in a long time, not since he left for Ishval, anyway. How does he even strike up a conversation with an old friend from a lifetime ago? What is he supposed to do?

Roy knows one thing—he will mind seeing her dance with someone else right now.

Gracia’s friends rise from the table after a while, leaving Riza by herself. By this time, Roy has helped himself to one, now another glass of brandy, and he isn’t sure whether he’s still on his feet despite the drink or drunk enough to be bold. He takes the long way around the venue to Riza. She turns her head when she hears him approaching.

“That was a very beautiful speech, Sir,” says Riza as Roy sits at the table, leaving one empty seat between them. “It’s a shame Mrs. Mustang isn’t around to hear it.”

Roy laughs, only now realizing that no one has brought up that gaffe since yesterday. “Well, shame it isn’t my wedding. But thank you. I’m glad you think so.” He breathes a deep, thoughtful sigh. “If I’m being honest, this is perhaps the happiest I remember being in a long time.”

Riza nods slowly. “I see.”

Without directly looking at her, Roy can tell that Riza is watching him, deep in thought. She takes a sip of her wine. After a long silence, she admits, “I haven’t been to a wedding in a while, myself. I’d forgotten it was possible for people to be this… happy. It hasn’t been easy to find things that make everything we’re doing worthwhile.”

The look on her face now is different from her usual quiet expression. There she is again, Roy thinks—perhaps she suddenly looks so much like her younger self because her thoughts have wandered to a much simpler time, before all the pain they went through together. Or could she perhaps have carried those thoughts in the back of her mind all along, never allowing herself to pay attention to them, but hoping she might find a place for them in the complicated circumstances they have found themselves in?

And in this moment, Roy realizes that more than remembering the Riza from his past, what he wants is to care for the Riza he knows in the present. To be a companion to her, and for her to return the favor; goodness knows how much they have needed each other all this time, and how much more they will need each other moving forward. Above all, she is someone he knows well enough to want to know better.

So, after a while, he quietly asks, “What are you thinking now?”

Riza smiles. “That what you said in your speech is true.”

Roy raises his glass, and she clinks hers against it. This is the first time in a long time that he has seen her smile like this, that Riza has smiled at him. It feels now as if he has been newly welcomed into her life, that at last—once again—she could trust him as much as he does her.

He rises to his feet.

“I’d hate for you to have just come to watch a speech, Hawkeye. Would you like to dance?”

#Royai Week #Royai Week 2021 #RoyaiWeek21 #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Royai #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Day 4 - Communiqué #one-shot #fanfiction #fanfic #comedy #fluff #writing #written by nina

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mitts2002 · 3 years

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Yamaguchi Tadashi - Angel

Hii so this fic is a mafia au as its part of the mafia au collab made by @inarizahki hope you all enjoy! It will have dark themes and mentions of blood.

It was strange. He was strange. You sat there at a table in a cute Tokyo coffee shop staring back at an unknown man with freckles adorning his cheeks and a bright smile to match.

Your organisation had sent you to sign a deal with the new upcoming mafia group. They were known as the Karasuno Clan and all members were referred to as crows, no identification or information, not even a single picture was to be found.

This whole ordeal was strange to you. Why would they trust you to see the face of a clan member? So open in public to make matters worse. You could use the knowledge of this man's face in the future yet the extremely secretive and protective group seem to be laying it out on a silver platter.

"Is something wrong? Maybe I should get you something to drink?"

"No it's fine I'm just a bit tired, should we begin with our meeting?"

"And here I thought we were gonna start with introductions"

"Is there a point when I know your not gonna tell me your name? Let's just discuss the business deal"

Confusion laced his face as he cocked his to the side. You could even say he looked cute, but you knew better. Behind this cute boy façade and navy suspenders was most likely a heartless cold blooded killer. You pulled out some documents from your bag and set them in front of him.

“You seem untrusting of me (Y/N), are you nervous perhaps?“ The nameless crow asked before picking up your documents and giving them a quick scan.

“Being in our line of work I'm sure you understand if I have my doubts after all were taught to trust no one“

“Ironic considering your leader Kuroo-san and my leader are good friends who trust each other greatly“

You didn't want your shock to be visible to him. You weren't aware of your gangs unexpected union and it all suddenly began to make sense why the Nekoma Commission leader entrusted you to meet with a crow in person.

“Alright you've read through the documents, will you agree to share the information with us?”

“That depends (Y/N) what's in it for us“

“I've clearly written that our groups will earn each others trust and union, we will also pay you generously“

Seriously what more did he want? Most mafia groups needed money and allies and your contract was willing to give him both.

“I need proof, that you wont betray us once we help you“

“what exactly do you want me to do?”

He smiled. Then began to inch closer towards you. You couldn't help but admire him, how could someone with such angel like features be apart of the mafia? His appearance was neat, not a single wrinkle in sight and his dark hair had a slight ruffled look to it. An angel playing with the devils maybe, but whatever reason he was here for didn't matter at the moment.

You needed him to move away. You needed to stop your heart from racing. You needed this contract signed. Then you could leave and forget about this entire encounter.

“say (Y/N) have you ever killed?” he whispered into your ear causing a shiver to go up your spine. His hot breath lingered and you couldn't form the words to respond. You gave him a simple nod and he began to frown.

“That's a shame (Y/N) I thought we were birds of a feather but I guess I assumed wrong“

“And what's that's supposed to mean?“

“You'll found out when we meet again”

He winked, took the documents and left. Months later you did meet again but you wished you didn't. You regret meeting him. All of this was his fault. You stared down at the crimson blood on your hands as tears welled up in your eyes.

How could the manipulative bastard do this to you? All you asked was for him to sign a damn contract and yet he couldn't even do that. He had to be greedy. Mafia men are never satisfied you've learnt. They always want more.

“You set me up. Yaku didn't deserve to die“ You sobbed looking down at the ally you just (accidentally) killed.

“Well (Y/N) I didn't kill him did I? In fact I don't believe I've ever killed“ He responded so nonchalantly as if he didn't admit he used people to do the dirty work for him while he just sat back and enjoyed the show.

“No you told me to meet you here so we can discuss more about the contract and told Nekoma that someone from another organisation was trying to attack so you needed a backup sniper. They sent Yaku to help but he didn't realise it was just us and shot. On instinct I moved and shot back. I don't fucking understand what the hell was this for? WHY DID YOU MAKE ME KILL HIM?“

“Don't you understand? The contract was never on your terms (Y/N) it was on mine“ He gave you that angelic smile and bent down to your level gripping your face with his cold hands.

“Nekoma will never forgive you for this (Y/N) they will hunt you down and make sure you die a torturous death. You have no choice but to join us. We will provide security in exchange for your knowledge, hacking and negotiation skills. Deal?“ His sweet voice sounded sickly to you. He clearly didn't care about what he did as long as he got what he wanted.

You didn't want to shake his hand, but he was right. You had no choice. You had betrayed your family and Nekoma will only think of your story as a pathetic excuse. Tears dropped down as you extended your hand to shake his.

Oh how looks can be deceiving. One look at this nameless crow and you would think he was an angel blessed upon this earth, but as one hand gripped your face and the other grabbed your hand you knew. As his hand pulled your face closer to his and lips locked with yours you knew. As his tongue entered your mouth and explored every inch of it like it was his to explore you knew.

This was no angel. No, you just made a deal with the devil and there was no turning back.

#mafia!haikyuu collab #hq yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader

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1994sunflower · 4 years

Text

locked out of heaven. ii (m.c)

pairing: michael clifford x reader

genre: angst, smut

word count: 23.9k

involves: bad boy!michael, college!au, jealous!michael, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, being a bit dirty in public, dirty talk, daddy kink, choking, size kink, face slapping (consensual), spitting kink, praise, degradation/name calling, innocence kink, corruption kink, violence, blood, language, mentions of infidelity, light self-deprecation, mentions of drugs, drinking

summary: months after the breakup, michael has been a wreck. not only in his mind but to everyone else on campus. he’s unmanageable without you. you weren’t faring much better. you’d lost your light and you find yourself trying anything to forget the betrayal. but will a reunion with the very man you had fought against even yourself to avoid be what you needed to fix everything and go back to the happiness you shared with him or will it be just what you needed to finally move on?

part one

Whispers had followed Michael for months.

Different from the whispers he had become accustomed to hearing for the majority of his life. No, these whispers had very little to do with him and everything to do with the sudden breaking of his relationship.

People had become used to seeing the short girl hanging by his arm next to him. They’d finally just started to stop staring every time they saw the colorful clothes and the kind, smiley face next to his glares and dark, chained clothing. But suddenly that was gone and it was all anyone could talk about.

It got even worse when rumors started spreading about the reason of the jarring split. Hushed voices, surprised gasps, disbelieving eyes were everywhere Michael went. Even whispers of the girl’s name, the one he refused to acknowledge, started trailing him. That didn’t last for long though. He went through great lengths to show just how little he wanted to hear of the person that helped him destroy the best thing in his life. And God help whoever tried to bring her, or it, up. It just served to remind him of the night he had began to think of as the ‘night when it all ended.’

Ashton wasn’t really shocked when Michael had started to hole up in his room. Without you to persuade him to go to class, Michael had no reason to. He skipped class and had sworn off parties for the rest of his life. In fact, there were times when he would spend days without ever stepping foot on campus. At that time, he only ever went out to get food. And even then, it was in the late afternoon just to a fast food place or the Union and then right back home. Ashton didn’t even know what he could do in that house, alone all day for days at a time. But Michael managed to do it faithfully for nearly two months now.

After weeks of trying to talk to you, Michael seemed to finally lose his hope. It was over and it was all his fault. He had hurt you, as if he had ever even deserved to have you in the first place. He figured leaving you alone was the least he could do for you to give you a chance to be happy again, to forget him and move on with your life. Even if it killed him.

And boy did it feel like it was killing him. He was a mess without you, miserable. You were on his mind constantly. Not an hour went by when your beautiful face didn’t enter his mind and he had to clutch his phone painfully in his hand to keep from running out to find you and beg you for just one more chance. He didn’t even sleep the same, not without you. He kept a picture of you as his lock-screen, one he had taken back when both of you were still happy, and a part of him knew it was just to punish himself, forcing himself to look what he had lost. You were it. You were the one.

But he blew it and you were gone. He wasn’t sure he could move on without you, wasn’t sure he even wanted to. Because what was the point of dating if he wasn’t dating you?

Michael had stopped crying a few weeks after your breakup. In fact, to Ashton, the only person to see him on a regular basis, it almost seemed like he had gone empty. No emotions whatsoever. But to Michael, it just felt like he was suffocating with a permanent knot at his throat.

You were gone. You were gone. He hadn’t taken you for granted ever, but even with that, not having you around felt like his heart had left with you, leaving just a cloud of anger and loneliness in its wake with nothing to calm it.

The times Michael would go back on campus, it was just to wreak havoc. He had had a bad reputation before you but it was worse without you.

“He’s worse now.” Was the talk of the campus. It made the seriousness of the situation obvious when it wasn’t even the students that were saying these things. It was the administration and professors. “I thought he was bad before. He’s just out of control now, it’s like there’s nothing holding him back anymore. I don’t know what we’re going to do with him.”

Before, Michael hadn’t completely stopped his violent streak. But he had restrained himself a lot more than he would’ve without you. And that was just because he wanted to be good for you, keep you happy and unafraid of him. And because, with you, he was a lot happier himself. He had less outbursts because how could he be anything but content when he had you. Now, however, he had that extra anger he wanted to get rid of (granted it was anger towards himself). He wanted to erase what he had done, he wanted you back, but that wasn’t possible. Now he was even angrier and more frustrated than he ever was before.

It only took a look now for Michael to pick his next victim. He had stopped trying to hide his tirade of violence and blood, as well. In fact, it hadn’t become so out of place for a student to be leaving their class building and see Michael beating up some poor soul a few feet away.

Everything made it very evident that he was his best self when he was with you and without you, he was his worst.

♔

It was considered almost a miracle when Ashton finally got Michael to leave his house, in the middle of the day and for a reason other than to go release his anger. And he got him to even go to the Quad, in the middle of campus. It felt like hell was freezing over.

Now, Michael didn’t do it gladly, of course. It took a lot of persuading and an eventual screaming match that resulted in Ashton physically pulling him out of the house. Michael didn’t crack a smile the entire way there. But he hadn’t been smiling much at all lately anyway. Instead, his gaze kept sweeping the area around them silently and while Ashton didn’t ask and he knew Michael would never admit it, they both knew he was trying to catch a glimpse of you. Anything that could make his cold heart finally start up again. But you were in class.

Ashton knew that because he had started keeping tabs on you. Both for Michael’s sake, looking out for you when he couldn’t, and for your sake, to keep Michael away from you because he didn’t want to see you go through the pain you seemed to relive every time you saw him.

Ashton kind of resented Michael for hurting you in the way he did. He had considered you his friend too, and it was hard to see you hurt. Of course he felt bad for Michael and he knew he would never have done it purposely, but you were such a light in his best friends’ life and to see it be gone, snuffed out by his friend’s own stupid actions made him want to shake Michael. Yell at him for sabotaging his own happiness.

But he didn’t. Instead he watched with barely hidden worry as Michael leaned his head back to rest against the brick wall behind him, holding the cigarette tightly in his hand, the smoke pillowing out of his lips in a rising cloud. His eyes were closed as if this was the only place he received contentment (that nicotine always provided him) recently.

Calum and Chris stood in front of him, their eyes flicking over to the silent Michael ever so often in nervousness, standing apart just enough to give Michael a clear opening to look at the Quad’s center. They were in the shaded part of the area, thanks to the building in the corner they were directly under. Ashton had invited them over just to give Michael more people to be around, he knew he needed it.

Even if Chris and Michael weren’t exactly friends and even if Michael tried everything to not look at Calum; his face reminded him too much of that night, of what he had done and what Calum had stood by and let happen. But he was too good of a friend for Michael to hate, especially when, at the end, the fault fell on Michael’s shoulders. So instead, they just stood silently.

Calum looked intimidating, even in his sweater, and short trimmed hair. He fit right in with Michael and even Ashton but even he eyed Michael with uncertainty. Unsure of what would happen with such a broken boy in front of him. Especially a boy that placed at least some of the blame on him. Not that he had any loyalties to you in the first place, he barely knew you. But still, even he felt a little off every time he saw you on campus. You had lost the bright aura you always carried with you, everyone could see it. Your wide eyed enthusiasm for the world was gone. But you still managed to give him a (now strained) welcoming smile every time you saw him.

So while he had met you only once or twice, he definitely felt a sort of guilt inside himself that his friend had been the one to snuff it out. Which, subsequently just made his own friend get worse in his temper and feelings.

Maybe if he had been more attentive he could’ve, should’ve, stopped it. But he didn’t see it happen. One minute he had gone to get a drink and stopped to chat up some girls, the other Michael was gone. He’d like to think he would have stepped in, snapped Michael out of it, spared you from the humiliation you went through because even he knew you didn’t deserve it.

Chris was the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb in the group. A part of him was excited that he was invited to be a part of such a select group but the other part cursed that Charlie was in class and he was left alone to handle such a sensitive and explosive Michael - and situation.

And that inner turmoil was obvious by Chris’ complete lack of understanding in what okay to talk about in front of Michael and what wasn’t. The topic of you, was definitely on the not okay list.

To be fair, Chris was hesitant to speak but he pushed through the nerves to talk. “Did you hear that Luke asked Y/N out yesterday?”

Ashton shut his eyes in dread at what his friend’s reaction would be and Calum delivered a sharp elbow to Chris’ side.

It was stupid of him to think it was okay to say that. But in his defense, the only real link between him and Michael had been you. So it was the only thing he could talk about with him, really. And that didn’t change even when you broke up just as his yearning to be Michael’s friend hadn’t changed either.

Michael’s eyes sprung open wide as if he had just been punched. “What?”

Ashton’s eyes silently yelled at Chris to shut up, to not say anything more because he knew that if he did, Michael wouldn’t be controlled. He had given you up but that didn’t mean he didn’t still love you, a love that could be deadly in order to protect you and keep you safe, even if he did it quietly so you didn’t realize it. A love that was still fiercely possessive over you because no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t imagine a present where you weren’t his.

Luke was everything he wanted to keep you away from. Especially now when you were at your most vulnerable, when he couldn’t be right there to protect you. A handsome football player that seemed to be stuck in his high school glory days, he was a slime-ball through and through. Rumors of his conquests weren’t like Michael’s, no his rumors were started through his brags and disgusting cat calls. Michael’s were earned. Luke was more well known for his borderline aggressive and down right misogynistic behavior with his prior ‘girlfriends'.

He seemed to have found a one-way rivalry in Michael, though he failed to notice that Michael couldn’t care less about him or his body count. But at the mention of his and your names together, Michael finally felt that burning rage that Luke always seemed to want to induce in him. He couldn’t imagine you, sweet and moral as you were, with someone that would treat you like trash, someone that didn’t deserve you. Though of course, who was he to judge when he obviously didn’t deserve you either, with how much he had hurt you in the end. His fingers all but crushed the cigarette in his hand.

Chris kept his eyes on Ashton, nodding in understanding and was going to stay quiet. Say nevermind and end it there but Michael had his dark, dangerous eyes set on him. “What did you just say?”

Michael was not to be ignored, everyone knew that and unfortunately, Chris was not Ashton, who was the exception. It was the first time Chris had heard that tone Michael was famous for, the threateningly low one that promised pain if ignored. So it was no wonder Chris chose to listen to him over Ashton.

Chris’ eyes were shaking when he answered, “W-well, they’re in the same physics class and I guess he’s been asking for her for help during class and he finally asked her to a movie yesterday.”

And there was Michael’s heartbeat, racing. His eyes flickered every which way, unsure of how to process that. In fact, his mind literally seemed to reject it. You couldn’t have said yes. Even if you knew how much it would hurt Michael, you wouldn’t have. Right? He couldn’t handle it if he destroyed you so much, destroyed your self-worth so badly that you would say yes to be with someone even worse than he was. You were always out of his league. Now, without him, you deserved the world, the happiness Michael couldn’t give you, not to find someone so below your league it was a whole different ball game.

Michael’s mouth ran dry at the thought of you on a date with that bastard who was only doing it to get under his skin. And it was working. Luke Hemmings was finally achieving what he always wanted, to hurt Michael as much as possible - to win.

He could imagine your trusting smile and modest eyes soaking up all the bullshit lies he would throw at you to convince you he was a good guy. His heart constricted at the thought of his hands on you, wrapping themselves around your body like only his were meant to, his words that would surely offend you more than making you feel complimented, ignoring your thoughts and opinions that had always meant the world to Michael (in fact not much mattered more to him). The way he would completely disregard your boundaries and fail to give you the respect you deserved because that was just the way Luke was with women, controlling and dismissive.

It might’ve been luck or it might’ve been the universe’s cruel way of finally making karma catch up with Luke and all his sins. But just as Michael felt like he couldn’t deal with what he was just told, Luke himself walked across the Quad.

Two of his friends trailed behind him, both of them wearing similar shirts declaring which Athletic Department they were a part of. Luke’s blond hair was done up in a quiff and his blinding, charming smile hid well the fact that he was a bad person with an even more tainted heart than Michael.

Michael saw them first, staring at the leader, Luke walking just a few steps ahead of the others. As his eyes followed him, like a predator would look at a prey, he thought about his options. If you had said yes (his heart prayed for the first time in his life that you didn’t), and he beat Luke up, he knew it would hurt you. And Michael didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had. He could put aside his pride for you.

But Luke made the choice for him. And he made it extremely clear.

Luke’s eyes met his and his smile turned into a full blown grin. One filled with taunting malice. His hand went up in a faux friendly wave. “Michael, my man! Asked your girl out yesterday, don’t worry I’ll take real good care of her.” He was practically yelling to make sure Michael heard. He had stopped walking and now stood directly in front of Michael, granted several yards away, right dab in the middle of the Quad. “I bet she’ll be able to take it like a pro too, might have to break her in a bit though.”

He was laughing and his friends chuckled beside him.

Ashton shot his hand out, “Michael don’t.”

But it was too late. Michael had thrown his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it as he began striding angrily towards the smug blond.

It only took a few steps before Michael was close enough to grab the collar of his shirt and punch him square in the face. And once he got that first punch in, he didn’t stop. Punch after punch after punch. He didn’t stop when he felt the blood on his hands and he didn’t stop when he felt the hands of Luke’s friends try to pry him away.

Luke disrespected you. He felt disgusted at the way he sexualized you, like you were nothing but a hole to fuck. When you were Michael’s life, when you were goodness personified, someone who only saw the good in everyone even after the world, and Michael, disappointed you so much. You deserved to be praised, adored.

“Don’t you ever talk about her again. Don’t ever disrespect her like that, you piece of fucking shit.” His angry screams sounded through the now silent Quad.

And then it was the images Luke had planted in his head that bothered him. The thought of your small tight body underneath Luke, moaning his name, blushing beautifully as you made all the small noises you made during sex that he loved so much, calling him daddy, being submissive and letting him do whatever he wanted to you, degrade you, like you always let Michael do, giving yourself to such a piece of shit.

He didn’t want to imagine you that way with anyone but especially not with Luke. The fact that Luke thought he even deserved to talk to you let alone have sex with you. Michael wasn’t ready to think of you moving on in that way, letting someone else have you in a way only Michael had had you before, in a way Michael had planned only he would ever have you. No one knew your body like he did, he had taught you everything and he couldn’t imagine you using that with anyone else. You knew exactly how to please him. Only he knew your body, knew what you liked. No one else. His possessiveness had taken over him.

“She’s mine, you’ll never get to have her like that. You don’t…..deserve……her.”

Each bone crunch that his fists caused wasn’t enough to satisfy his anger like it usually was with others. No, each time he heard Luke’s pathetic sounds, he only got angrier. His fists punched his cheek, his nose, his stomach. Anywhere and it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to get those imagines, those thoughts out of his head. He wanted you to have said no. He wanted Luke to never even look at you again. He wanted you back in his arms, with him.

You were his. You were still his. Even though he didn’t deserve to think that.

He had ruined that. And that just made him angrier, punch harder. Maybe if he hit Luke enough, all of his regrets would finally stop haunting him. His frustration and self destruction driving him now.

Ashton’s hands were in his hair as he watched his best friend. He watched as Michael kept punching, leaning down further as Luke’s body lost more and more energy, slouching him closer to the ground. His face was almost completely covered in blood.

“He’s going to kill him.” Those were the words he’d always feared he would end up saying.

A few professors had come out of the woodworks, moving closer, calling out for Michael to stop, as if he cared about authority, and of course, to no avail. One professor, a short psychology professor, attempted to pull Michael off but Michael was stronger and just pushed him away.

Ashton didn’t dare try to stop him himself. He was Michael’s friend but Ashton knew his limits and Michael was way beyond his. There was no doubt in Ashton’s mind that he would get beat up quickly if he tried to step in and stop Michael, especially from beating up someone that dared talk about you. Everyone knew when you started dating that you were off limits, you were Michael’s limit. No one was to talk about you, be mean to you, or say anything even resembling degrading to you or they would face Michael. It was the one thing that made him angrier than anything else, even more so if they were to directly attack him. It was a type of anger that didn’t seem to end or be quenched by anything. The rule still applied even well after your breakup. It was worse now, coupled with the anger and turmoil of losing you. Ashton couldn’t number the amount of kids Michael had pummeled after hearing your name spoken in a ridiculing or perverted manner after the break up became well known.

When Michael was beyond his limit, there was no telling what he was willing to do. It was like he had become blinded by rage. He wouldn’t hesitate to fuck everyone up that was in his way.

Well, not everyone.

Ashton cursed under his breath, digging out his phone quickly to find the schedule of the one person that he’d been secretly looking out for, the one person that could stop Michael, if you were up for it. But if it meant you could help someone while simultaneously keeping Michael out of jail for murder, he didn’t doubt you would be. You were too good of a person to say no. Even after everything.

He was still looking down at his phone, ignoring the disgusting sounds of Luke yelling through the gurgling blood in his throat and Michael’s angry grunts only a few yards away when he ordered Chris and Calum. “Try to keep him from killing Luke, okay? I’ll be right back!”

He was running when he called back to make sure they got it, “Stall him!”

He’d gotten your class building and room but to find you and get you there was a race against the clock. Or against Michael.

♔

The whispers that followed you were haunting.

They were worse than the whispers that happened when you and Michael first got together. Because now most of the time, people were talking more about Michael than about you so they didn’t bother to quiet down when you entered the room or walked past.

Instead, you were forced to listen to students and professors alike talk about your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend now. It felt like you couldn’t have a minute of peace without hearing his name and remembering what he had done to you.

“It’s gotten so bad and no one can calm him down. He used to be a lot more restrained, wonder what happened.” You heard as you entered your small recitation classroom. One of the girls next to you had turned her entire body back to talk to her friend. She was talking animately while her friend listened coolly.

The blonde girl shrugged easily, “I don’t know but he’s literally so scary. Have you seen him walking around campus? He looks like he wants to kill someone all the time. One time I saw him push a girl out of his way. Can you imagine?”

You closed your eyes, willing any and all images of Michael to leave your mind. You knew from experience that many of the rumors of Michael’s angry and aggravated actions were just that: rumors that served to vilify him even more. But you also knew by how much you knew him, that a lot of them were true.

You never saw what everyone else spoke about, though. But you knew Michael’s new actions were a common occurrence just by the sheer amount you heard about it, everywhere. You sometimes wondered if he purposely acted out where he knew you wouldn’t be, to keep you from having to see that violence that he never liked you to be a part of when you were dating.

A part of you felt bad for him because you knew this out of control anger had emerged because you were gone. Especially when he had been trying so hard and working to manage his anger better. And you hated yourself for feeling that way.

You hated that you were the one who felt bad for him, that a part of you wanted to go back to calm him down like you knew you could. Because he was the one who fucked up, who took your heart and stomped on it. But you couldn’t help but know that you were the one who helped ground him and his emotions a lot of the time when you were still together. You knew this outburst was at least partially because you weren’t there anymore.

The worst part was why did you want to help him? You wanted to be with him, you wanted to help soothe his anger and his hurt behind that. It hurt to know he was in pain, to know that, even though you knew he cheated on you, he must’ve felt at least something. He wasn’t completely heartless to your pain. Maybe he had loved you enough to at least regret it. He was making it obvious.

If it wasn’t by how long he had tried to talk to you, gone out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you, it sure was by how he had lost control without you, how his emotions were all over the place with regret and longing for you. But that too stopped after a while. Part of you was thankful for it, you could finally put him behind you, but the other part was hurt even more now that he was giving you the opportunity to forget him. But how could you do that so easily when you had spent so much of your years loving him, seeing a part of him no one else did. The kind, accepting, loving version.

You weren’t sure how much of it was real love and regret and how much was from being caught and losing just a constant in his life he was used to having, a comfort. Any benefit of the doubt and patience that you usually gave Michael had dried out.

Even if it was real, it wasn’t enough to erase what he did, erase your memory of it.

The girl was still ingrained in your thoughts. Michael had made it quite clear that he resented her or maybe associated her with his mistake that he hated so much to remember, avoided all whispers of her name, her face. Avoided her like the plague since then. Even went as far as to warn everyone that mentions of her were to be met with pain, and a lot of it. At least that was what the rumor mill had brought you. You didn’t know who she was and while, at the center of Michael’s wrath, she decided to stay silent, underground and pretend nothing happened, you couldn’t forget. She knew you were dating Michael, everyone on campus did. But she didn’t care and she chose the moment Michael didn’t either.

He didn’t respect you enough, didn’t give a regard to the consequences, what you could have felt in the aftermath. Maybe because he had never intended for you to find out. You had always been okay with his past but maybe that was just a naivety of your part, one he took advantage of. You wondered just how long he had been betraying you while you followed along like being pulled on a string. Maybe that was what had him so messed up, he had still wanted to keep you along for the ride. Just a toy to pick up when he didn’t have other plans. Maybe the Michael you knew wasn’t the real Michael. Just an illusion he wanted you to believe to keep you around.

You hated yourself for still loving him. Despite everything your mind was conjuring up about him, images and thoughts that clashed so violently from the Michael you had known. You still remembered how much he meant to you, how beautiful your relationship was, full of love, protection, acceptance and opening each of you up to new parts of yourself, more adventurous and centered parts. Tainted only by the giant gash at the very end.

You were tainted with it as well. And not in the titillating way Michael had always promised to corrupt you with during sex. No, now, you weren’t the bubbly life loving girl you had been since before you met him. Now you were irreparably different. Life felt gray, as if nothing was what you thought it was. If the man you thought was the love of your life, the one you trusted everything to (including your love and your life), the one you would have been willing to marry, to mother his children, betrayed you in such a painful and humiliating way, what was stopping the rest of the world from doing the same.

The worse thing was that he had given you ever indication of being just as equally devoted to you. How could a man that had been planning so many beautiful things for the two of you end up being such a cheater, a liar?

The relief you felt when your strict TA waltz into the room, forcing the girls into silence was unmeasurable. In fact, you were almost happy to learn about calculus and have only that occupy your mind for the remainder of the hour.

But it seemed like the world didn’t want to give you that happiness, especially when the door behind you was yanked open. The whole class jumped in surprise and swiveled around.

You wished you hadn’t when you turned and saw an out of breath Ashton, grabbing onto the doorway in a sort of panic you’d never seen on him before. His curly hair bounced dramatically as he stepped inside the room.

Even your TA was silent, confused as to what exactly was going on.

Ashton’s eyes search the rows of desks before his gaze finally landed on you. He had definitely ran there as his words came out breathless. “Y/N. I…..I need you to….come…” He leaned forward, his hands on his knees as he tried to even out his breathing. “I need you to come with me right now.”

Your eyes watched him, unamused. You hadn’t seen him since the breakup and you couldn’t deny the hurt you felt at him icing you out, as if you were the villain for breaking it off with Michael and sending him into a spiral of hurt and regret. Especially when you had considered him your friend as well.

“Ash, I’m kind of busy right now.” You gestured to your almost frozen TA at the front of the classroom, standing in front of the whiteboard.

But Ashton was already shaking his head, “No, you don’t understand. Michael, he’s-”

At the sound of Michael’s name, everyone turned away from Ashton and towards you, staring at you in awe. You were Michael’s ex-girlfriend, the one who broke up with him and had started his reign of terror on the campus. The one who made it scary to even just walk to class without the fear of getting beat up or threatened.

Ashton, for his part, looked like he was shaking with how almost afraid he looked. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was going on?

You shook your head before he could finish, just the sound of Michael’s name had your breath catching. “Ashton, we broke up. I don’t want anything to do with whatever he’s is involved in.”

Ashton looked at the pleadingly door like he was debating if he should just carry you against your will. You were the only one who Michael would listen to, he knew that.

“Michael’s about to kill Luke.”

You blinked, your blood running cold. “What?”

“He’s beating him up at the Quad right now, he’ll only listen to you, you know how he is.”

You knew Michael was mad, that he was hurting, but you never thought it would get to this point. And that feeling of sadness for the man you had cared so much for just spread further.

You were silent for a moment. Unsure if it was that you couldn’t process what you were being told or if you didn’t know what to say.

“Y/N we have to hurry before he does something he’ll regret. I can’t let my best friend ruin his life…again. Please. I know he fucked up - he’s been suffering because of it - but he loves you and you know that, he’d do anything for you. Please.” Ashton was talking fast but none of it registered in your mind.

Because as soon as you understood the gravity of the situation, the very real possibility that Michael had lost himself so much that he could do something he couldn’t take back, you were up. You got up off of your seat quickly, running to Ashton and, when he ran out of the room, guiding you to wherever Michael was, you ran after him too. You didn’t think, you left all your stuff, you left your TA yelling out your name. All that was going through your mind was Michael.

The fact that this would be the first time you saw him in months was very present in your mind. But the dominant thought was his angry face, hitting someone without pause just like you’d seen multiple times before but this time, so much worse. Because this time he had nothing to lose.

You hated yourself a little for caring so much. After what he had done to you, you should hate him. But you tried to convince yourself that you did and that you’d do this for anyone, it was the right thing to do. It was for Luke’s sake too, save him and his health.

But as you finally reached the Quad and saw the back of Michael’s looming figure, it was hard to deny the increasing thumping of your heart beat, the way your breath was taken away at seeing him again. In all his glory.

From afar he looked great. His arms were toned, decorated perfectly with his tattoos, that still made your cheeks flare up in a light blush. He looked as gorgeous as always. In fact, you would’ve appreciated him and his appearance a lot more if his muscles weren’t flexed due to the current beating he was delivering to the boy in your physics class.

If Ashton hadn’t told you it was Luke, it might’ve been hard to recognize him with all the blood. And the fact that he was basically lying on the ground, held up only by Michael’s tight grip on the boy’s shirt.

The sight stopped you cold. You saw everyone else in the Quad, frozen and staring, at the fearsome sight as well.

You’d seen Michael being violent, but Ashton was right to be panicked, you’d never seen it be this bad. Maybe you had a little do to with that; you hated violence and would preach peace religiously, especially to Michael (though he never quite understood your position, he definitely respected it enough to restrain himself). Could this outbreak really be because of your break up? Was he really this uncontrollable without you? A part of you couldn’t imagine him caring so much about something he caused that it would drive him to this point.

But the evidence was right in front of you. As Michael’s face was scrunched up in pure fury and as professors and students alike yelled out his name to no avail. Nothing was stopping him. The only thing that was restraining him from fully exploding was a very strong Calum grabbing around his shoulder blades pulling him back and successfully slowing the assault down as much as possible while Ashton arrived. It wasn’t much, just slowed Michael down but it was enough to possibly stop a tragedy.

You had no idea what Luke could’ve possibly done to him to cause this. They’d had a few run ins before but Michael never seemed to take an interest in him, let alone allow himself to be bothered by his existence.

Ashton stayed behind you and you realized that you were meant to do something. But as you watched the much bigger, both physically and in authority, people surrounding Michael, unable to do much of anything you weren’t sure what. What were you meant to do? Especially as the ex-girlfriend who he obviously didn’t have much respect for. Not enough to stay loyal to anyway.

You took a few timid steps forward, still really unsure of what your purpose was. A part of you felt stupid for running to him as soon as he needed help, when he never even asked for you. What if he didn’t even want to see you?

But as you stared at the violent scene in front of you, you had to do something. You felt sick at it, there was no good in violence even in anger and you knew that wasn’t a feeling Michael reciprocated but when you were together, he had at least started to adopt similar thoughts. He always stopped when he was going too far. But perhaps that was more for your benefit than it was his beliefs. It was hard to believe someone you loved so deeply was capable of being violent to this point.

“Michael!” You yelled out, loud enough for him to hear you over the other voices and his own angry, incomprehensible yelling.

It was magical, almost, how quickly all of his actions stopped. How he froze up at the sound of your voice. You could hardly believe you were the reason, the one who held that power over him.

But it was undeniable as he let go of Luke abruptly, causing the poor guy to drop to the ground with no strength to hold himself up.

Even the professors next to Michael stared at you, wide-eyed. Unsure of how this short, scared looking girl managed to stop the angry giant in front of them. You were just as surprised as they were.

That surprise quickly turned into a deep set concern, one you couldn’t turn off no matter how much you wanted to, when Michael turned around. He turned slowly, almost as if he was afraid his ears had deceived him, given him something he had so desperately wanted to hear: your sweet voice saying his name again.

But it wasn’t a mistake. There you were, in front of him again. You looked gorgeous, though you always did to him. You were finally starting to wear colors again, a light pink dress with small cherries decorated over it. Michael’s heart constricted and his airway felt just a little tighter as he stared at you. You were actually there, for him.

You, on the other hand, furrowed your brows as you looked at Michael’s beautiful face. It was marred with blood (you weren’t sure if it was Luke’s or the blood from his knuckles) and the hints of frustration were still there, along with his red, tear rimmed, eyes. He looked tired, an almost ghostly pallor colored his face. It looked like he hadn’t slept well in weeks. You’d never seen him look this destroyed. You wished you didn’t feel that yearning to throw your arms around him, kiss him and make him feel better.

“Y/N…” Michael’s voice was hesitant yet gruff.

Then he moved forward, quicker than he had in a while, and enveloped you into a tight hug. He wrapped around your entire body and seemed to engulf you entirely. Your head was at his chest and you could feel him nuzzling his face into your neck as much as he could, inhaling your scent. He was finally touching your skin again and that alone let him feel connected to you. Reveling in everything he had been deprived of for months. He missed you so much.

He couldn’t even tell you everything he wanted to say. The million ‘sorry’s he had wanted to say to you since you walked out of his life, the ‘I love you’s were lost to the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness. Grateful that you were there for him, that you didn’t even go to check on Luke. No, the first thing you said was his name.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in his arms. You didn’t move, didn’t reciprocate the hug. In fact, you felt your lip start to tremble. You felt suffocated. Having him this close just reminded you of everything you had lost, everything Michael had thrown away. For a girl who he never even looked at again (he made a point of that).

Wiggling, you hoped he would get the message and let you go. But he was too mesmerized by the situation, wishing to never let you go again to notice. You had a small nagging sentiment that urged you to just let go, enjoy this moment. But the painful hurt that you still felt at just the thought of Michael had you pushing firmly against him.

This time he did loosen his grip on you, giving you opportunity to step back out of his arms. He didn’t want to, you knew it from the pained expression on his face, an expression that told you the last thing he wanted was to let you go.

“Y/N…” He started but your sharp eyes cut him off.

You looked much more sure of yourself than you felt. Your expression was stern and your voice was level. You were really proud of yourself for that.

“We’re over Michael. Don’t.”

How sad was it that even at your harsh words, he took solace in the fact that you had finally spoken to him. Your beautiful voice was finally being directed at him again.

And it was such a small thing compared to your sentence as a whole, but when you called him Michael, he felt a part of him break. Ever since your relationship had gotten serious, you called him Mikey. Such a cute little name for a boy that was anything but. If anyone else called him that, he would hate it and probably hurt the person saying it so they’d know just how much he hated it. But it was a nickname from you, something no one else called him. He’d come to love it just as much as he loved you, because it was something the two of you shared and embodied just how different Michael was with you. He was Mikey.

But it appeared he had destroyed that the moment he had destroyed the relationship.

Sure, you had called him by his full name plenty of times. But never quite with the betrayed and angry eyes, the ones that looked at him as if he was a stranger, as if he was a monster that brought nothing but destruction with him.

His heart felt like it was being constricted to the point where he was afraid it would burst. You walked directly past him without even looking twice at him, as if him having you so close to him for even just a millisecond didn’t kill him inside. He wanted to drop to his knees when you squatted down to check on Luke.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. This shouldn’t have happened. He should’ve had you with him forever, loving each other for the rest of your lives; never worrying about you getting asked out by another man, always feeling loved and needed because that was just how you always made him feel, never missing you because you’d always be there and never feeling alone because all those feelings of abandonment and loneliness he used to feel had disappeared the second he met you.

“I’m so sorry…” He heard your chiming voice say down to Luke, your hands hovering over his face but not touching because of the amount of blood, you didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was.

Michael had to look away. Couldn’t handle seeing your worried eyes, your cutely concerned face directed to the jock. His entire body felt electrified with regret but he wasn’t sure if it was regret at what he had done to you or regret at having beaten Luke, because if he hadn’t, maybe Michael wouldn’t have to witness first hand you solidifying just how much he ruined everything. His entire body was slumped, drained of any energy and any anger he had moments ago. Now all he felt was a deep set longing and regret.

He didn’t think those feelings would ever go away. It felt like they were eating at him.

So when Ashton stepped forward, taking a hold of his shoulders, and began pushing him away; away from you, from the trouble he’d caused, the blood (and away from the responsibility as he knew no one would testify against him), he allowed it.

♔

Your fingers were tapping the edge of your phone nervously. You weren’t really sure what you were thinking, if you were at all. But you had sent the message anyway, forgoing any of your usual overthinking.

You flipped the phone over to illuminate your face in the dusk sky when you felt the vibration of a notification. You held your breath as you opened the text from the man you had been texting nonstop for months now; your sense of security and understanding.

justin

Are you sure? I thought you didn’t like parties much.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. He was right. You didn’t like parties and since Michael cheated on you, it had grown to a full blown hate. You didn’t tend to hate things, it wasn’t who you were. But every time you thought of what happened, the way Michael took a girl home from a party, the way he forgot completely about you because of it, there was no other way to describe the cold feeling pulsing through your body.

So when the invite to a frat party was airdropped to your phone, your first desire was to delete it, throw your phone across the room and cry (or scream, or both). But then you thought about it. Maybe facing the very thing that made you sick to the stomach, made you want to vomit, would be the closure you needed. It could help you finally get over the misguided love and care you still felt for the guy that broke your heart. Even if it didn’t, you were willing to try anything. Maybe you could finally get him out of your mind, get rid of the soft spot, the love you had for him once and for all. Maybe you’d finally be fully happy again, feel like yourself, then.

I don’t. But I think it might do me some good to go to one, especially right now. I know you don’t like that scene either but since you’re in town…do you want to come with me?

In town he was. He had flown down for the long weekend and a part of you wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that he had booked the flight right after you told him about what happened with Michael and Luke.

It wasn’t something you liked to think of much. It was jarring to finally see Michael again in that way. To see the man you had been with for so many years, the one you still loved, be so violent and aggressive. You’ve seen him mad, you’ve seen him fight before, but never to that extent. You couldn’t quite get Luke’s bashed face out of your head. You wondered exactly what Luke had done to deserve that, if anything, considering just how much more short tempered Michael had become. At least he was alright now.

It was also a little frightening to see the power you held over Michael, confusing as to why. Who were you to be able to stop him when no one else could, it wasn’t fair to feel as though you were important to him when he had shown you very vividly that you weren’t. That you were replaceable. It was scarier even to have been in his arms again. You hated the way your body betrayed you by longing for it so much, the way you felt instantly calm in his arms, never wanting to leave. The way you still loved him and wanted to go back to him. You pushed those thoughts away as deeply as you could.

When Justin told you all those months ago that you could text him for anything, you took it very literally. And it made you feel so accepted that he didn’t mind you texting him at 3 in the morning to rant about whatever was on your mind. It was what you normally would’ve done with Michael but it felt just as good to do it with Justin. Better even because your memories with the blond boy weren’t tainted. The kiss hadn’t made anything awkward because he was just that great of a guy to know it was something that you did when you weren’t in your right mind. Justin had given you a safe space, one where you could let out all your feelings without being judged or pitied. And you appreciated him for it.

Justin wasn’t one for parties, just like you. In fact, in high school, the two of you would often be together talking about exams, college and homework while the rest of your friends were out celebrating life. And neither of you minded one bit. You were still like that and you definitely knew he was as well. Which is why when his typing bubble came up, you were worried he would deny you and you would have to go by yourself. You’d have to face the shame of going to the scene of the crime alone.

justin

I’ll be right over.

You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling that was erupting in you.

♔

Michael stared at Ashton incredulously.

“No, I don’t want to go to a fucking party.” He growled at the brown haired boy standing in the doorway of his dim room. He preferred to keep the lights as low as possible, if not off. The last time his room was fully lit was when you were in there. And he wasn’t quite sure he could take that piece of memory and replace it with this much lonelier reality.

Michael had sworn off parties and stopped drinking. In fact, he refused to even hear about it. No one invited him to parties or handed him drinks anymore either because they knew just how sensitive of a topic it was for him. It might’ve been misplaced anger. But it was there nonetheless. As much as he blamed himself, he blamed that culture for what happened. And he refused to be a part of it anymore. Especially when he couldn’t even pass by a frat or sorority house without being hit with the fact that you weren’t his girlfriend anymore and that the reason happened right there. He couldn’t even have a drink in his hand without wanting to chuck it across the room - preferably at someone’s head.

He wasn’t only on a party ban but also on a girl ban. It wasn’t something he was consciously doing but he couldn’t imagine doing anything other than that. And celibacy was not something Michael was used to doing, before or with you. But his body was physically rejecting any girl that came near him, anyone other than you. Not like he went out to find girls, in fact with the way his mind was constantly on you, remembering the good times (before everything went to shit), other women never crossed his mind. Michael only remembered that he was still attracting attention when they approached him and even then, nothing they said ever processed in his mind. All he saw was someone that wasn’t you and he moved along.

Ashton sighed, the only light coming from the living room behind him. He understood where Michael was coming from, he did. Which is why he never forced him to go anywhere, even if he thought it could cheer him up, just like this Epsilon party - his favorite. But after the thing with Luke, it had been hard to get him out of the house at all. It was like he was traumatized from the whole thing, he couldn’t even step on campus.

It had nothing to do with Luke, of course. In fact, when Ashton filled him in that you had in fact, not gone on a date with him, Ashton saw a look of relief on his friend’s face that he had never quite seen before. But it had everything to do with the feeling of drowning, suffocating, coming back after seeing you again; after seeing you and being frozen out of your forgiveness and love. He really fucked up.

Ashton considered his next words. He didn’t want to give his friend false hope, only for it to be snuffed out again. But he knew Michael wouldn’t get up off of his bed if he didn’t, he would stay in that position, listening to angry, sad music alone until he fell asleep and was able to dream of you, dream that everything was like it used to be. He needed out of the house and to confront his sins, instead of wallowing in them.

“Y/N might be there.”

He’d never seen Michael sit up as fast as he did then. And all his hesitancy in giving Michael false ideas had gone to waste, it was evident in the way his face lit up, the way his eyes had the far away look that showed all the what-ifs running through his mind.

“How do you know?”

“Cal invited her.” Ashton murmured, hoping that if he spoke soft and slow, then Michael’s hope might pop, he might come back to reality. “It’s at his frat, Epsilon so he sent her the flyer. I’m pretty sure he said she was interested.”

Michael was already standing up, “What are we waiting for then.” He could put aside his aversion to parties, especially greek life parties for you. He’d do it because of you. If it meant he could see you again, talk to you. Maybe even be able to beg for forgiveness like he’d always wanted to. Like he had been unable to fully do after the fight because he had been too stunned by your presence, at having your beauty in front of him again. It had rendered him too useless to even think.

Ashton struggled to find the right words when Michael pushed past him in the doorway and headed to the front door.

“Right…but, dude, remember she still probably won’t-”

“Don’t say it.” Michael didn’t stop walking but his words were warning. His tone didn’t pack the usual punch though, it was too tinged with choked back sadness to be as threatening as he wanted.

He glanced down at his phone, didn’t unlock it, just stared for a moment in silence. Ashton wished he didn’t see the flash of Michael’s phone before he put it in his pocket, didn’t see your smiling face reflected back at him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a pit in his stomach at what exactly he was taking his friend to and bringing to you. More heartache?

♔

Michael’s heart was beating a million beats per minute. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt nervous but this was definitely it. Just the thought of seeing you again just for you to brush him off, say you were over him, for you to have finally figured out you were too good for him that entire time. All of that was enough for him to want to go back home, try again some other time. Because he didn’t know if he could handle you not forgiving him and finally losing you for good.

He didn’t care about the calls of his name as soon as he entered the room. He slipped right past Calum who had waited up front to greet Ashton and Michael. He had one goal in being there. To find you. Everything else was irrelevant

He just didn’t expect to find you against the wall, a drink in your hand and Justin standing in front of you, talking to you animately. In the same position you and him had been in multiple times. Justin was leaning down so you could hear him better; the music was so loud. Your lips were slightly parted, your big eyes sparkling like they used to when you looked at him as you nodded at whatever the blond boy was saying to you.

You looked beautiful. You were wearing the short, white dress that contrasted so beautifully with your skin tone. The one he always said made you look like an angel. The one he loved to fuck you in especially, to really solidify him taking away that pureness. But now you didn’t wear it for him.

Michael was already broken hearted. But nothing compared to the feeling of his heart being ripped out of his chest when he saw you with the one man Michael had always felt insecure next to. The one you knew so well, the one who was perfect inside and out and wanted you the same way Michael did though not nearly as intensely and deeply. He hated the blond boy. Why did he always have to be around?

To add insult to injury, Michael watched with frozen horror as you raised the alcohol to your lips and sipped. Your face scrunched up at the taste so at least it hadn’t become a vice of yours. But still, you had slipped into something you never wanted to before. Even if it was just to give you the extra push to let loose, to give you the comfort in a setting that brought you so much pain. Michael pushed you to do something you had been so against. His sweet pure girl. It was his worse nightmare, being such a bad influence in your life. But he had succeeded. And he felt like everything was wrong in the world.

Michael felt a bad taste in his mouth as he saw Justin move closer, too close, so he could whisper in your ear. He wanted to rip off the hand he had on your bare shoulder. When he saw your red cheeks, he wanted to kill something. Your blush was one of Michael’s favorite parts about you, it made your already cute and innocent face look even more so and it did wonders for Michael’s libido and ego, a fact you were very much aware of. A fact that was still true now, even if it wasn’t directed to him. No now, you were blushing for him. For the man that Michael had to fight against in order to keep his relationship in the first place. You had rejected Luke but now it was Justin in front of you. Had he just pushed you back into the rich boy’s arms? Did he give him a free space to finally win your heart?

The bastard was too much of a pussy to even keep that stupid drink away from you like he knew you wanted. He couldn’t protect you like Michael could.

His only solace was when he finally watched Justin move away from you. He watched with jealous eyes as he rounded a corner to find a quiet place to take a call. His phone was already at his ear and his free hand covered his other ear to help him hear the line better.

Michael hadn’t even moved when Ashton and Calum came up beside him, patting his shoulder. “We got you, bro.” And then they followed Justin out of the room, giving him the security that they would buy him some time.

His heart accelerated again, coming alive. Here was his chance, you were alone, right in front of him and he had all the time in the world. But if he didn’t move now, he might lose you forever to the persistent man you came with.

♔

It was so hot.

You weren’t sure if it was the amount of people in the packed house or the drink in your hand. Granted, you’d only taken a grand total of 2 sips and while you definitely figured out it was not for you, the ability of it to help you forget your misfortunes was still to be determined. You were sure it was because you weren’t drunk, if just a bit buzzed, but you had no intention of getting to that level anyway. So for now, it would just be a decoration in your hand.

You touched your cheeks a little after Justin left. They felt burning and you had no doubt you were blushing wildly. More than half of it had to be because of Justin. He was standing so close with those kind blue eyes. He made it so easy to forget.

“Y/N.” But it was impossible to forget completely when you were always within the same campus as the man you were trying so desperately to get out of your head.

It was disheartening the way your stomach dropped at his voice. Especially because this could only mean one thing, he was still partying. Even after what he did, he was still attending, still finding other girls probably. While you were trying hard to forget, he had already forgotten you.

You felt your lips quiver and your ears burned with heat and humiliation by the time he stood in front of you. You were backed into a corner already so there was no way to escape. That didn’t stop your eyes from looking around you from some sort of exit, for Justin to come back, anything. As if his body didn’t block the majority of your eyesight.

So you were forced to just look up, your neck craning to fully look at him. You’d almost forgotten how tall he was, you had stood so far away from him at the Quad it didn’t give you the time to fully appreciate his height.

He looked just as different as he looked at the Quad. His hair was a mess, as if he had just gotten up from bed. Deep purple circles ran alongside the bottom of his eyes from lack of sleep.

But, wearing a black bomber over a black t-shirt, his silver chain contrasting perfectly against the dark fabric, he still looked great. And then you saw them. The tattoos encircling his entire neck were shadowed just right so you could appreciate their dark colors. Then one of his hands moved, allowing you to fully see the artwork that traveled from the edge of his sleeves to the edge of his finger, the ones that drove you especially crazy. Particularly when they were holding your much smaller hand gently, so different from what would be expected. Or when they were around your neck.

You blamed the alcohol for how your body stiffened, a pooling of wetness between your legs. Had it really been that long, were you really so sex-deprived that even just a look at him had you horny? He really had corrupted you. Before, you didn’t think of sex much but you’d gotten too accustomed, spoiled, with the way he made you feel, something that happened so often that just a few months without had left you feeling more lonely than ever.

His eyes explored your face, trailing especially onto your full pink lips before they met your eyes. It was like a trance you were both in and you weren’t completely sure you were breathing.

He took the gross cup from your hands, tossing it aside as if it didn’t contain liquid.

“Who the fuck gave you that?” His words were so familiar and for a moment, you could almost imagine that nothing had happened. That he was still the protective boyfriend you loved so much. “You don’t drink.”

Normally the drink would never reach your hand, Michael would make sure of it. He always wanted to preserve your innocence from any hard substances he partook in. But Justin was just as out of his element as you were, just as nervous. So when you were handed a drink, Justin didn’t do anything to stop it besides looking at you nervously. You wished you didn’t feel the bit of disappointment at just how different he was from what you wanted, from Michael.

The trance was broken as soon as he lifted his hand to your face, to touch your cheek like he had always done without question. But this time you pulled your head back before his fingers could touch your skin.

“Don’t touch me.” Because you were still very aware what him being there meant. The humiliation and betrayal he caused you was still a very fresh wound.

You wished you could take pleasure in the pained look that flashed across his face. His face dropped, much like it did in the Quad, and settled in your neck. He wasn’t touching you but this was his only chance to get you to listen and he wasn’t going to throw it away. Right then, it felt like his entire future was hanging on by a thin strand. He didn’t care what he looked like to anyone watching, didn’t care if he looked weak or whipped. He’d go down on his knees to beg for you back if that’s what it took.

You were blushing again as soon as you felt his breath on your skin. You had to close your eyes and force yourself to breathe, otherwise the breath would be stuck in a knot at your throat.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered so only you heard, his voice was dripping with sincerity. It almost sounded sad. “I was drunk and I thought it was you. I would’ve never….fuck, if I was conscious enough to know, it wouldn’t have happened. It meant nothing. She was nothing. I love you so much, baby girl.” He felt you flinch at the name. “I love you. Too much to do that knowingly and too much to want to. You’re it for me. I know I fucked up, but I’m sorry.”

He repeated his love for you as if there wasn’t enough times that he could say it that would come close to encompassing just how much he did. His heart was thumping so hard he was sure you could hear it. He inhaled your scent, taking pleasure at being so close to you after so long. He finally felt at home again, his heart and body felt like they were buzzing with electricity. You made him feel alive.

“That’s not an excuse.” And then his heart deflated in a way only you had the ability to make it. “If you couldn’t handle your alcohol, that’s your fault. It doesn’t matter if you love me if the way you act the minute I’m not beside you shows the complete opposite. When I did nothing but support and love you, when I was fine even when I knew that you had screwed half of the girls on campus, I trusted you even then. I didn’t deserve that. You humiliated me, Michael, to the entire campus. You betrayed me. I’m not sure you know what love is. Because you’re not the man I thought you were.”

You pushed him away at that point and took solace in the way he let himself be pushed away. Now there were a good couple inches between you and you finally felt like you could breathe again, the fuzziness in your mind at having him so close was fading slowly. Your quick heartbeat, which had started racing the moment he said I love you again, three little words you thought you’d never hear again from his mouth, was still going hard.

Your eyes were watering over, tears threatening to fall but your face screamed anger. The anger you had felt for months finally letting out. But it was an anger mixed with a sad frustration which couldn’t be taken out of your expression. And that was what hurt Michael the most.

Seeing you look so in pain, so broken when all you deserved to be was happy and loved. He had done this. But even when his heart stuttered as he looked at you, he wanted nothing more to hug you, kiss the pain the away. He was selfish. Too selfish for you. But he loved you too much to let you go. You were the best thing thats ever happened to him, the best thing in his life.

His hand moved again, this time, taking a hold of your upper arms. He only meant to hold you, test the waters to see if maybe his touch could bring you back to him. But he didn’t expect the gasp that escaped you as soon as his cool fingertips grazed along your warm skin. Michael watched with wonder as your eyes widened and your blush deepened. You were a goddess.

A goddess with a reaction that Michael knew more than well. Michael watched you carefully, the way your teeth caught your bottom lip, the way your pressed your thighs together as you attempted to step back. He had missed the way your body reacted to him. How could he have ever mistaken you when you were so obviously awe-inspiringly beautiful and magical to watch unfold. Just watching you was enough to get him off.

Sex was what got him in this mess in the first place. But it was also the one thing he knew you would still want him for, need him for. And he was desperate enough to fill in that role, even if it would just result in more hope and heartbreak for him, even if, for you, he would only act as a means to an end. Anything to have you in his life for a little while longer. Anything to hold back to inevitable and nonreversible separation you no doubt wanted. He would take what he could get.

He had said to you once that he would ruin you for all men so that eventually you would always need him, always run back to him, even if it was only to get off. Neither of you had expected to get to the point where it would come true. But here you were.

Michael knew you so well, knew what you liked, what you reacted for. So it was no big surprise when he closed the gap between you two, pushing you against the wall with his lips directly at your ear, taking advantage of your state.

“Missed you, little one.”

The way he ducked down, the way his hands were trapping you in place. Everything made you feel so small, so dominated that you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your mouth. And he loved it too, seeing your small frame so tiny and fragile, helpless. His for the taking, his to break. His.

You hated feeling this weak in front of him but it’d been too long, you needed it, you needed him. Because no matter how much you hated him at that moment, there was no doubt that no one could make you feel as good, as satisfied as he could. Not that there was anyone else you trusted or loved enough to try.

“You’re still so good for me, bet your body has missed me, missed my cock. Do you remember how good it feels?” You were sure he chose his words carefully. Saying what he knew had you weak to the knees so you couldn’t deny him.

Michael watched your small figure, looking up at him with innocently hungry eyes. His hand on your arm trailed tantalizingly upward and downward. Your skin burned wherever he touched. His other hand rested firmly on your hips, holding you as if you would disappear if he loosened his grip. All he could think was that he was actually touching you again. It was like he could breathe for the first time in a long time.

But this was wrong. You were giving in and you could feel your self control slipping from you. It was replaced with an urge to let him do whatever he wanted to you, to let out all your pent up emotions through one night that you knew would blow you away.

Michael’s eyes focused on your lips, his thumb moving up to them and this time you let him. His thumb played with your bottom lip while the rest of his fingers rested on your jaw. You felt his thumb move into your mouth superficially. Your gaze never left his as your tongue slid on the pad of his digit before he brought it back out, using it to drag your bottom lip down.

You were ethereal and he was nothing short of hellish. But it was the type of destruction you couldn’t seem to stay away from.

“It’s been so long, baby girl. I’ve wanted you for months, missed your tight little pussy taking my cock so well. Jacked off so much thinking about it.” Michael’s words were filthy, too filthy for a public party where the only thing between you and the rest of the partygoers was Michael’s large frame draped around you. In fact, you weren’t sure anyone could even see you as Michael’s broad shoulders covered you entirely. It just seemed as if he was standing hunched over nothing. That particular thought drew a moan out of your mouth.

“Bet you’ve been needy. My spoiled girl wanting to get her pussy wrecked by my big cock like you’re used to, but your fingers just don’t feel the same, do they?” Michael nipped at your neck slightly making you nod out desperately.

You’d missed this so much, the feeling of complete domination over you, the way he treated you so roughly yet lovingly at the same time. That feeling was complete when his lips found your neck while his hand came down to the base of your throat and squeezed. He didn’t kiss your neck, not yet, not without your words. But his lips feathered over your skin like a ghost, enough for you to just get a taste. Enough for you to want more.

“Come on, little one. Let me help. Let me make you feel good.”

Michael groaned out as he saw your blush deepened and one of his knees came up between your bodies, prying your legs open just enough for the fabric of his ripped jeans to touch your damp panties. One of his hands tugged sharply at your hair.

“M-Michael…” You couldn’t think straight. You were turned on in a way only he was able to do. All you could think was of his scent, the way his strong shoulders felt when your hands finally touched him for the first time in months. His muscles felt firm and powerful, the intimidating and possessive aura that seemed to scream at everyone to stay away was held there and as you squeezed them, feeling his body, the fire burning beneath your heart and your sex was scorching hot. You were clenching helplessly around nothing. You needed him.

But then you saw him, the boy you had come to the party with. The one you had invited. The one who had stayed by your side and cared for you. Justin was staring at you with wide eyes. His hand was in his ruffled hair, unsure of what to do or say as he watched you come undone just by Michael’s presence. Calum was right behind him, flustered at having him slip away.

It was almost shameful to think of what you must look like to him. Weak, desperate, lustful, submissive. You felt bad, even after everything, you were choosing Michael again. Even after Justin comforted you, even after that kiss. And he had front row tickets this time. Your face burned as you breathed out for Michael to stop.

Michael moved away, his focus entirely on you, his large hand entwining in yours as he pulled you back from against the wall. “Let’s go.”

Your heart was stuttering when you stared at Justin. There were so many mixed emotions in your mind. You were desperate for Michael at that point, if you hadn’t been gazing at Justin’s hurt face, you would’ve left without question. But Justin was there and worse he was there for you. You were the one that invited him, you were the one who took him out of his own life so he could be there for you. And now you were abandoning him for the guy that hurt you in the first place.

You hoped your eyes translated all the regret you felt at how you were making him feel at the moment. You didn’t meant to play with his feelings or lead him on, in fact you were sure your own feelings were starting to be messed with in the process. But you were too far gone to reject Michael, to think logically. You needed something only he could satisfy you with and you needed that gratification.

When you saw a small nod come from Justin, you almost sighed in relief. You didn’t need his permission but his understanding, or at least acceptance of what you were doing made you feel less guilty when you nodded up at Michael. Not for the first time were you struck with his beauty, he reminded you of danger in a way. But you weren’t scared. Instead you were letting him lead you wherever he wanted. His dark hair swept across his forehead perfectly. His deep eyes still stared at you with the same adoration they always had and the secretive smile that was only for you was still there as well.

It felt especially familiar when he pulled you into his side, wrapping one arm protectively around your shoulder, keeping you there and proudly showing off who you still belonged to, to the entire party. He knew that in the state you were in right then, the horny mess he had left you in, you wouldn’t resist. Michael was on cloud nine. He was finally getting what he wanted, had been desperately needing this whole time. You were back in his arms like you were always meant to be, where you belonged and after finally claiming you again, getting to feel your body again, you could finally listen to him, forgive him even. But you found it ironic; how you came to the party to get closure but you were leaving in his arms.

You didn’t miss the stares your little reunion was getting. It was no secret on campus the breakup had been messy, so messy Michael had become unmanageable. So to see your small figure right next to him again was surprising, even more so to see him looking so content in a way no one had seen him look in months.

The only thought that could make you feel less pathetic was the knowledge that this wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t mean anything. You weren’t docile, he was just a good fuck. Once you got it out of your system, once you got him out of your system, you could officially move on. Just one more night for the books. That’s what you told yourself at least.

♔

Michael pushed you against the corridor walls as soon as he closed the front door. He had his hand where your jaw met your neck, holding your face up to him. The chain around his neck dangled between you due to the height difference of him having to very much lean down and over to reach your lips. You were so small. But you fit so perfectly with him. The kiss was hot and heavy. It was mixed with everything: longing, regret, desperation and lust. He held your jaw still so he could control the pace and you were more than happy to let him. His tongue explored your mouth expertly and you moaned against his lips. You had missed him. He felt like he was in a dream, getting to kiss you again. You wished you didn’t still feel the completeness, the security you always felt with him.

“Missed you so much.” He said as he pulled away, pecking your lips once more before stepping aside. “You have no idea how much I love you, princess.”

Your breath was taken away at the sound of the loving nickname. You could almost cry at how good it felt to feel his love and sincerity again, coming right from his mouth. You had lost so much.

But you didn’t answer, you weren’t there to forgive him. So you didn’t. Instead you walked to where his door met the living room. He let you, following behind you closely but not without the setting of his jaw. But still, he couldn’t shake the disbelief he felt that you were finally back home. He was finally back home with you.

The house felt like you were coming back home. Everything was just as you left it, if not just slightly messier. It was bittersweet walking the familiar corridor to the living room.

That is where you stopped cold. The couch. The stupid couch.

There it was, the black, cracked old couch where Michael had cheated on you. It was still in the living room and you felt as you did when you first walked in on them. To think he didn’t even care enough to get rid of it. Probably sat on it everyday without even caring what happened on it. Physically recoiling, your mind cleared up just a bit to scream at you to leave. What were you even doing back there? Hurting yourself more.

You wanted to run, to go back home and cry your feelings out but you were frozen in place. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sofa. You’d never hated an inanimate object more. You were humiliated all over again.

You didn’t realize you weren’t breathing until you felt Michael slide his arms around your body from behind. One of his hands moved down to hold your hand while the other arm was around your waist. You felt his upper body on you, his chest touching your back. You even felt his hardness poke your thigh. He hunched down enough to place his chin on top of your head. You didn’t want to be comforted, not by him. But you couldn’t help but close your eyes and take in a fresh breath at the security his embrace provided you.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated and you almost wondered if he was going to say anything beside that the entire night. “I’m going to get rid of it, I promise.”

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t care.”

His grip on you tightened and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, “Don’t say that. I can’t even look at that thing without hating the memory of it.” His thumb drew circles on your hand, “I barely leave my room so I won’t have to pass by it.”

It felt like your heart skipped a beat. You could almost bring yourself to believe that he regretted what he did, that he ever loved you like he claimed. But you weren’t there for that.

So you stepped out of his grasp easily and moved to go into the room that you had come to know so well but had become nothing more than a memory. You had a feeling that, as you turned the lights on in his otherwise dark room, it was the first time in a while his room had been illuminated with light. His room was messy, strewn with cigarette buds on every surface, some blunts laid out in the open. Unidentified pills strewn every once and a while. You stopped looking after a while, it hurt too much to think of just what exactly he had been resorting to without you. You had used academics to take away the pain, Michael had evidently chosen a different route.

Michael did not miss a beat following you into his room like a lost puppy (a way he would only be like when following you), closing his door behind him in anticipation. He didn’t want to risk losing the mood, the spark that was currently burning bright between you two.

When you reached up and, by his neck, pulled him down to kiss you again, he let you. He let himself be guided back to his bed until he fell on top of you. Holding himself up with one hand, the other traveled down to push the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. A part of him wondered how hot it would be to fuck you in that dress, to see you coming undone for him in such a unblemished design. But he needed to see your body, see you bare and vulnerable for him after so much time.

And the sight was everything he remembered it being. The way you were so responsive to him, the small whines of pleasure leaving your kiss-plumped lips. His lips traveled down your familiar body, basking in the fact that you weren’t pushing him away but instead begging for more. You had gone home with him, you had abandoned Justin for him. He was feeling much like a starving man getting his first taste of satisfaction in a while.

“Who’s pussy is this?”

When you first felt Michael’s tongue on you, your back arched involuntarily, a gasp leaving your lips. It’d been so long. You had almost forgotten how good it felt, how good he was at everything. But your body hadn’t forgotten, it had been yearning for him and now that it had him back, you couldn’t help the way you reacted so easily to him.

“Yours, daddy” The words came to naturally to you even then.

Your words were a lot for him. You were submitting to him so beautifully in a way he wasn’t sure you would anymore. But you felt so blissful with him again, more than you’ve felt in a while, you couldn’t help it. To hear you call yourself his again had his stomach in flutters. He hadn’t lost you. Even more so to have you letting him dominate you like he deemed fit again.

You felt his tongue flick up your slit, between your folds. Vibrations sounded pleasurably as he moaned at your taste. He swirled his tongue around your clit as his open mouth encased it, sucking it at just the right moments that felt your eyes almost rolling back into your head.

Your moans were high pitched and desperate as you grabbed onto his dark hair and kept him right where he was. Not that he would’ve tried to stop anyway. He was at wonder with how good you tasted, your body’s sweet reaction to him, and how wet you were - for him. The bulge in his pants was infinitely bigger and more strained than it was before, if that were possible.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping your writhing form still so he could stay in between your legs. And it wasn’t something you wanted to be thinking about but seeing his tattooed hands and fingers around your own untouched skin, a sight you had missed so much for so long, had you whining, pushing your hips against his face.

Michael took his mouth off of you only for a second. Using his index and middle finger, he spread your lips to leave you completely exposed to him. In the way you only ever were with him.

His glance at you had you biting you lip, “You’re soaking, baby girl. I missed this cunt so much.”

And then his lips were back on you. His tongue licked your hole and your back arched when he dipped inside you just a bit. But it was enough for you to be pulling at his hair roughly and for you to hear him hiss and curse out in pleasure at the hint of pain.

He teased your entrance just a bit longer before going back to your clit, nibbling it in the slightest way. And you wish you could have the decency to be embarrassed at how quickly you came all over his face afterward.

But you didn’t feel embarrassed. How could you when all he did was lick up your juices before coming back up to his full towering height over you, taking a hold of the back of your neck and smashing his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself as his tongue explored your mouth. Michael’s eyes were dark with his pupils almost blown out with the euphoria of not just having you back with him but having you just cum again because of him. It was like all his dirty fantasies he had dreamed of since the breakup, but this time he wouldn’t have to get off with his own hand, annoyed and alone. This time it was real.

His hand found its way your neck, choking you just so. Both on your knees, your smaller figure had to look up at him by craning your neck. He was still fully clothed while you were in front of him, completely naked. You felt one of his fingers prod your lips open and as he stared down at you, his hand squeezing your neck a little more, you knew what he wanted to see.

“You taste so good.” You opened your mouth easily, trying not to think of the way you were too turned on by what was going to happen. When he spit in your awaiting mouth, you saw him rubbing himself through his jeans at the sight of you swallowing. You were still his. “Dirty girl.”

His words, your submission, it was almost like nothing had changed. Your small hands even reached out and unbuckled his belt and seeing that, coupled with your shy eyes staring up at him, made him sigh in bliss as he helped you get his pants and boxers off.

His dick was harder than it had been for months and he almost forgot the feeling of your tight walls around him but he had definitely still remembered the overwhelming need to be inside you, to be connected with you in such an intimate way that he only ever experienced with you.

He wanted to cherish the moment as much as he could because he wasn’t sure what time would bring after it. But at the same time he wanted to completely ruin you, fuck you until your mind was only filled with his name, until you could barely walk, so much that you wouldn’t leave him, if only for the pleasure he brought you. And you made those dark needs easier with your innocent wide eyes and cute whines leaving your writhing body.

But it was as if the delicate moment was broken the minute Michael laid you down completely and moved on top of you, held up only by one of his hands. Both of you naked, you couldn’t help but stare up at him and only see what that other girl saw the night of the party. You thought only of the same words Michael was using with you tonight being directed to her. She experienced something that was only ever meant for you. And suddenly you felt dirty. His hands trailing up and down your body, the same ones that had felt the blonde’s body, felt as if they were burning you.

“Wait, stop.” You laid your hand on his shoulder before he could even start lining up to your entrance. And a part of your heart melted in appreciation when he did stop, without question. You had lost a great boyfriend that respected your boundaries, consent and wishes. But then you caught yourself. He lost you.

Michael’s eyes snapped to you immediately, looking for any sign of what he did wrong. An apology was already at his lips when your eyes started watering.

“I ca-I can’t. I’m only picturing what you did with…with her.” Michael felt his shoulders sag at the way his actions were breaking you apart, preventing you from even feeling the love he had always been able to translate through to you with sex. “This isn’t special anymore Michael, you-you gave this to another girl, I feel gross.”

But Michael was shaking his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a sense of urgency and sadness strike in him. Sadness that the girl who he loved, the only one who has ever owned his heart more than even himself, felt like she wasn’t special. As if Michael didn’t need to breath you in to feel alive, to feel anything but the anger swirling in what seemed like a constant storm within him. And urgency to get you to see that he didn’t give what you and him had to anyone. No one has ever and will never experience what you experienced with him. How could they? Nothing feels right when it’s not with you.

He leaned as close as he dared, “I didn’t…I didn’t touch her or talk to her like I do when I’m with you. I’ve never done that with anyone else…I’m only like that with you. You’re the only girl I’ll ever show that side to because you’re my girlfriend, you’re the only girl I’ve been with that I love. No one else.” It was the first time you’d heard him stutter. You weren’t his girlfriend, not anymore. But you didn’t correct him.

You felt Michael’s lips on your neck, kissing right where your pulse was. One of his hands moved your hair out of the way gently and that felt more intimate than anything else you had just done. His lips trailed to your ear.

“It was only one time.” He continued and both of you cringed at that. Once or not, it didn’t matter and he knew it. The deep, soul wrenching regret he still felt was proof of it. But still he continued, “And it was a mistake, I regret it. It’ll never happen again. I fucking went soft halfway through because even when I was drunk out of my mind I couldn’t be like that with anyone but you. She’s nothing to me. I haven’t touched anyone else. I haven’t wanted to.”

It was hard for you to wrap your head around; that something that seemed so intimate and special to you, could mean practically nothing to him if it wasn’t with you.

Despite your best efforts to deny his effect on you, his affection had calmed you. Your breathing had evened but you still looked hesitant, “But you still go out partying…” You wished you didn’t sound so jealous when you said it. You wished you could even look him in the eyes.

He nipped at your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t. I only went tonight for you.”

Your eyes set on his at his confession. “You’re more than special.”

You weren’t sure you believed him, or if you even wanted to consider his words and their implications to everything you had thought was true during your breakup; was he actually just as in pain as you were all this time? It was such a break from what you expected him to be, the player who just saw you as another notch in his belt. Either way, your heart felt as if it fell still at the sincerity and intensity in his voice.

When you pressed your lips against his again, it wasn’t in forgiveness. It was a kiss that was more for you. Whether he truly believed it or not, you were going to make him see just what he had given up, just how irreplaceable you were. Because after years with him, you were no longer inexperienced, and you were Michael’s only girlfriend. He was able to teach you everything he liked, in vivid detail.

“Just fuck me.” You whispered through your heated kisses. You allowed his tongue to explore your mouth further as you moaned.

Michael had no issue giving you just want you wanted. How could he not with the way your naked body clung and rubbed deliciously against him. He had the sneaking idea that it was impossible not to be hard around you, constantly. He missed you so much.

He loved how easy it was to control your small frame, throwing you under him without much effort. He dominated you so easily. It was one of the things he most missed about you. The memory of your little body had been enough to get him off during the lonely nights but the real sight was so much better. He cherished the way you gasped slightly as your body bounced after being dropped.

He almost felt giddy as he ran his tip over your wet slit. But that couldn’t compare to the feeling of completeness he got when he finally slid into you raw. He was finally home. After so many months without feeling your pussy around him, he leaned over you as he groaned out. His hand had been nothing compared to this. It took a bit for you to take him in all the way. It’d been so long since he’s been inside of you, your body had grown accustomed without him.

You already felt so full of him when he was only halfway inside of you and he didn’t know what was hotter, the way your small body looked stuffed already with just half of his cock or the way you were still begging for all of it. He pushed fully into you, enjoying the way you mewled and pressed closer to him, finally being relieved a bit of the ache you’ve had since the break up. This was exactly what you needed. He was right, you would always need him to find that release.

It had been too long.

It was punishment to have forgotten just how it felt to be inside you, how tight you were, how you hugged him so deliciously that it almost felt like he could cum right then and there. His hands twisted the bedsheets next to you as he tried to control himself. He needed to relish this, he didn’t want to finish too early.

But then you started whining under him and he gladly began thrusting into you, his hips bucking at the feeling of being squeezed while he fucked into your warm and wet hole. He couldn’t prevent the pleased moaning and growls that escaped him at how good you felt. It was obvious in his mind that nothing was better than this, nothing was better than you. And he felt like a fool, more so than he had felt for months, for having lost you, for fucking up. He was addicted to you.

He hoped you realized that this was so different from anything else he could’ve experienced without you, that you shouldn’t feel gross or unimportant because the way he was touching you, the hands he held you with, the way he fucked you was so different than he was with anyone else. He almost felt like a teenager having sex for the first time, the feeling of wonder and nervousness at finally being able to be with you again, the self doubt, desperate need to please you and of course, the hope.

Your beautiful gasps and moans called him to pick up his pace. He felt his heart constrict at having you moan for him again. Your noises were like music to his ears and he was desperate to keep you making them, get you louder for him, make you feel as good as possible. Because for that moment, seeing your face washed in pleasure because of him, he could almost imagine that you were still his. That you didn’t feel those negative feelings of betrayal, distrust towards him. That you didn’t see him as a monster like everyone else did. This was what you still needed him for and he would make sure he wouldn’t disappoint. That this wouldn’t be a one time thing. Even if that’s exactly where your mind was.

You had forgotten how much of an expert he was at this. How his thrusts seemed to be timed just perfectly that they always reached so deep and rubbed against your walls just enough that your hips were moving alongside with them without you even realizing. You felt stretched out, filled to the brim with his girth for the first time in a while, it almost burned. But it was the perfect sort of feeling. It was a feeling that had you wanting more, begging for more.

At your responsiveness, he seemed to have gotten back the confidence he had always had when having sex with you. He had one of your legs in his hand, spreading you more open for him in a way only he had ever been able to control your body. His eyes never tore away from your withering body under him. He needed to see everything, everything he had been missing so badly. Your innocent little body being tainted by him once again.

“Fuck me harder.” You whimpered out. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed. At each thrust, you felt a pit of pleasure pooling hotly in your stomach. You were already moaning loudly, holding on to Michael as you finally felt the delicious drive of him into you after months of deprivation. Each time his skin slapped to yours, at each glance you saw him take to the point where you two were connected, where his dick was currently disappearing into you, you were nearly spasming at the heightened feelings. He was looking at you like he worshipped you.

“You’re taking me so well, little one. You’re so fucking tight.” He murmured, his voice strained as he gripped your hips tightly. He followed your orders, his thrusts became faster, more punctuated and so rough you were clenching onto him. Michael growled under his breath at the feeling of your already tight grip get even tighter. Your skills certainly weren’t lacking, even with your lack of recent practice. He wasn’t sure just exactly how long he would last with you.

You were amazing, and he had been so lucky to be able to not only have you like this now but have had you for so many years beforehand. “Missed it, didn’t you? Haven’t had a cock in you for so long, right? Wanting my dick in your tight cunt. Haven’t been able to get what you wanted without me.”

Your back was arched and you couldn’t answer him. Your moans had increased with his rough thrusts, broken as your body moved in sync with his, bouncing with each thrust. You felt the tip of his cock brush your g-spot and you jolted in his arms before grinding as he bottomed out into you again, desperate for everything he was making you feel. It was hard to breathe. You couldn’t even moan anymore, your mouth just open uselessly at the stimulation.

“Yes, Michael, yes.” You weren’t sure if you were answering his question or his actions.

Either way, Michael wasn’t satisfied. His hand went to your neck immediately, choking you just enough in warning. “Tell me you haven’t been with anyone else. Tell me I’m still your only.”

It was downright sinful for you to see the visual of his tattooed hand encircling your neck. It adorned you perfectly, like you belonged right there in his palm and you spread your legs further to get him deeper inside of you. Your moan was a mixture of his name and a desperate whine.

When you didn’t answer, he slapped you once on your cheek. The sting was so familiar and it was what had you remaining silent knowing what would happen, begging for more. As if he could sense that, Michael chuckled darkly under his breath. He slapped you again, harder this time. His aggressive thrusts never faltered.

“You’re still such a fucking slut for me, still mine. Even your body knows it. Say it.” He needed you to say it again. After so long, he wished he could draw you to say that forever.

“H-Haven’t been with anyone else.” You whimpered, “Fuck…so good…Y-you’re still the only one who’s ever had me. Still yours.” Your hand was on his wrist, keeping his hand to your throat, choking you so mouth-wateringly.

It was so easy to forget with him thrusting into you like that. So easy to pretend that the nightmare of the past few months had never happened and that you were still together, still happy. That this was just one of the many times you had sex that happened so often during your relationship.

“Even Justin?” He said the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“He could never have me, couldn’t make me feel as good as you can. No one can.” Your words were cruel. But your head was so clouded that you didn’t care. All you cared was telling Michael exactly what he wanted to hear, to please him like you couldn’t help but want to. Besides, you couldn’t deny that your words were true. Justin was kind and he had a big role in your life and heart but you didn’t feel that magnetic connection with him that you felt with Michael, that all encompassing love and desire. Michael really had ruined you for all other men, no one could come close to him. You needed him. At least for this.

The sigh he let out was of unexpected relief. His smile nothing short of devilish. He hadn’t doubted what the answer would be but he loved to hear you say it. Especially when he had you like this, it fed into an animalistic pride, a possessive pit in his being that had his grip on you tightening and his mouth leaning down to take in one of your tits, licking at your nipple before circling it with his tongue.

“You’re mine.” To hear you say that about the man who had been causing him so many issues, insecurities, felt more than good. He would never get the chance to have you like this, touch you like Michael had just done. Your body would only respond to Michael. The only thing you could do was push your chest up to give him more access, moaning loudly and wantonly.

Your legs were nearly bent all the way back and he went deeper and harder than before, if that was possible. Your hand went down to your pussy but all you did was feel each driving thrust under your hand as you screamed out obscenities to the air. You wondered briefly how you had been able to go so long without him when it felt this good.

You were both so sweaty already. The heat of your reunion, the entanglement of your bodies, had you frenzied against one another and breathing hard. Somehow he, glistening, looked even hotter than before. His tattoos on full display stuck out even more and you whined, moving to help him move deeper into you.

“Say my name.” His voice was barely a whisper but there was an edge to it. One that screamed to not be defied. Because he needed to hear his name from your mouth while you were under him and moaning for him again. Needed to feel like you had come back to him entirely. His hand was kneading your boob, still glistening from his spit. He loved the way he could do whatever he wanted to you. That you were letting him. Hope blossomed in him uncontrollably.

He stopped his thrusts for just a second before going back to slamming his hips into yours into an unrelenting vigor. And you were sure he did it on purpose to hear how broken and weak your voice sounded when you spoke his name. It ended up being a scream with much more added syllables to his name than necessary.

“That’s right…moan for daddy.” He smirked.

Your cheeks were dusted pink but it wasn’t embarrassment. It was the look of complete submissiveness that Michael loved to see. His hips stuttered at the sight of you. Blushing and ruined.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. “Such a good girl.”

You shouldn’t feel so happy at his praise, especially after everything. But your heart soared regardless. Because at the end, you still yearned for him and that included pleasing him.

“Look at how perfectly you fit with me.” You felt his hand in your hair, pulling it harshly to pull your gaze onto his cock thrusting into you. Your mouth fell open and you could only moan at the sight. The way you were spread open, the way his cock was glistening from your wetness each time he pulled back. His pace seemed to have quickened impossibly so as you watched. “You were made for me.”

You were gasping, your head tilted back again, a particularly loud moan leaving you as he hit just the right spot inside of you once again. You were unashamed at the noises you were making for him. You didn’t care if it made you seem weak, desperate. You were being pleased like you hadn’t been in months, in a way you had once been accustomed to being pleased, a way only Michael could do to you, and your body was helpless but to respond to it. Only he stretched you out so completely, filled you out perfectly as if he were your missing piece. Your body only responded to him. He was right, your body was made for him. You were made for him.

When he hit that spot again, you came around him almost instantly. It was a shattering orgasm, one that rocked your body until you felt it at the very tips of your being. You finally reached a release, in a violent shake, that has been evading you nearly since the time you broke up, one you couldn’t quite reach by yourself. The one only he had ever been able to give you because he had been right at the party, your fingers weren’t enough. Not when you had already gotten a taste of him and what he could give you.

And this was it. This was exactly why you had given into him tonight and you didn’t regret it one bit. Your body pulsed. Your second orgasm of the night and as he kept thrusting through your release, never slowing down, you felt your third just a few moments later. You were whining against him at the overstimulation but he held on to your weakening figure.

“Where…” He grunted at the feeling of you clenching around him, your juices painting both of your thighs messily. The feeling of you breaking down under him, the feeling of your walls tightening around him impossibly and your cum around him was too much. “Where can I cum?”

He hadn’t said that to you in years. It brought you back tearfully to your first time together. How had things gotten so wrong?

“Cum in me.” You didn’t hesitate to answer. You hadn’t stopped taking the pill, mostly out of habit. Maybe you should have, not giving him the chance you knew he desperately wanted, to claim you completely again. To cum inside you, taint your walls with his cum and watch with possessive fervor as it trickled out of you once he pulled out. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, you wanted it just as badly as he did. You wanted to feel his cum in you, get the feel of him entirely which you had been missing for so long, feel as if he was still yours just for a while. It was one of his favorite things in the world. Even more so knowing he was the only one to have done that to you, to leave you in that glistening, weak, submissive mess. To fill you up.

It was what he had been wanting you to say, needing to hear from your mouth. He didn’t know if you were still on the pill. Frankly, he wouldn’t have cared either way. He’d be more than happy with filling you up even with the likelihood of getting you pregnant, maybe even more so. If you wanted that.

You weren’t surprised much at the deep, pleased groan that erupted from deep in his throat. He leaned down, careful not to crush your little body under him, and buried his face in your dark hair. “God, I love you so much.” His elated, adoring voice was raspy at your ear.

He came as he said it and you moaned lowly at the feeling as you milked him completely until he finally pulled out of you. And the feeling of emptiness you felt without him inside of you had you whimpering.

Michael pulled out slowly, regretfully almost. He would stay inside of you longer if he thought he still had that right. But he didn’t so instead he tried to be satisfied with just watching the way his cum oozed out of you, covering your inner thighs and cunt so beautifully he almost felt himself wanting to get hard again. His cum inside of you, it made him feel like you were his again. As if he had ever stopped considering you his.

You didn’t answer him. Even if your heart flopped at his words, his tone. You still loved him, you couldn’t deny it. Especially after all this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not when thinking to all he had put you through, what he had done to you. It wasn’t fair that he could say it so freely while you had tears in your eyes just thinking how you used to trust him, love him and where that had gotten you. Hurt, betrayed and alone.

It was bittersweet when he cleaned you up and laid down beside you. His hands were gentle on your skin, as if you would break. Despite everything, you felt your heart warm at the knowledge that you were the only girl he cared enough for to treat so sweetly. The only girl he had enough regard for.

When you felt his lips at your cheeks, you shot up. This wasn’t what you came for. You came for the closure the party hadn’t been able to give you, to cross off that final vice he had left you with. Not to forgive him or pretend like what he had done never happened. You tried to ignore the ache in your legs. “I should go.” Your tone was wavering.

You didn’t regret what you had just done. It was amazing and being so close to the man you loved made you feel alive again. But you shouldn’t have done it. It had just made everything messy. All the progress you’d made without him, the closure you had wanted so badly was even further from your grip because now all you wanted was to stay in his arms and love him freely. You cursed your weakness. You should have walked away at that party. But instead you had ended up in his bed. Now, you felt like another one of his quick conquests at the end of each party. When, once upon a time, you had been so much more. Or at least that’s what you believed. You weren’t sure anymore.

“What? No, stay.” His hand caught your arm as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. His tone was panicked. You couldn’t leave. He couldn’t watch you leave his life again, this time, likely forever. Not after he finally got to have you again.

You swallowed through the knot at your throat. But still you stood up and threw your clothes on messily. “You don’t like it when your one night stands stay over.”

Your words were mean and you didn’t mean to sound so bitter when you said it. But you had gone years being okay with his past just for it to have been the exact thing that had come back to destroy your relationship.

Michael’s eyes widened and you saw him rear back in surprise. “That’s not - this isn’t…You’re not a one night stand.”

How you could compare yourself to those other girls was lost on him. He didn’t want to believe that he had really ruined everything so much that you couldn’t see your value in his life, how much he loved you. You were his everything, his heart, his home, his life. Tonight felt like his world was finally coming back together. So much more than one night.

“But I am. That’s what this was Michael.” You said, suddenly angry. “Because we’re not together and this was just something to help me finally get over you. It won’t happen again.”

He put on his pants in a hurry, following you quickly when you walked through the doorway of his room. His limbs felt cold from the anxious feeling numbing his body. He was going to lose you again and he might just go crazy if he did. It was hard for him to breathe.

He caught you right at the corridor leading to the door. The same one you had been making out in at the beginning of the night. You stayed in place but your eyes looked in pain.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t go to parties anymore. I haven’t been to one since we…broke up.” He hated saying it out loud. “They never really mattered to me anyway, I always rathered a night in with you over them. I only went tonight because Ashton told me you’d be there. There’s been no other girls. No one could replace you. I-I stopped drinking too because that’s the shit that lead me to fucking up. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, I love you too much to even want to. But I promise you, I don’t forget you or cheat on you the minute you’re not around like you think. You’re it for me, once I met you, I stopped sleeping around. I stopped everything because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It never happened before and it won’t happen again. I just hadn’t gotten that drunk in so long and I really thought you were…”

He took a deep breath, stopping to gather his thoughts. He needed to say everything right. It all came out in a rush because he felt as if he didn’t get it all out, everything would unravel. This was his last chance. You’d never heard him sound so worked up. The great Michael, the one the entire campus feared, was coming undone in front of you.

“I regret it. I’ve never fucking regretted anything more. I wish I could go back and stop everything so that you would still be with me and we’d be happy together, like we were meant to. I thought it was you. I couldn’t even fucking see straight enough to know it wasn’t. I’ve never even thought of other girls because you make me feel more than happy and pleased. I know you’ve always been insecure about that but you don’t have to be, no one else has ever made me feel so good. I don’t need or want anyone else, never did. As soon as I found out what I did I kicked her out, I haven’t seen her since. You have to believe me. I’ve been shit without you. I’m angry all the time, I feel alone without you. I need you.”

You weren’t sure what to think of his words. Whether or not you believed him. You wanted to. So badly. You saw firsthand just how badly he had treated himself since the breakup. He didn’t look like he slept much, he isolated himself and he had taken to smoking and fighting so much, you worried for his health. He no longer went to class, he stopped caring a lot about bettering himself or keeping his temper in check. You had heard rumors that he stopped partying but you never thought it was because of you.

He repeated the same story; he was drunk, he wouldn’t have cheated on you if he was in his right mind. The thought was only a bit comforting. Because it meant that his mistake had nothing to do with you or how much you did or didn’t please him, how pretty you were. You hadn’t been wrong about him all along. He did love you and he did regret it. More than you could imagine. None of your relationship had been a lie. He wasn’t that cheating player you had convinced yourself he was. He wanted his girlfriend back. He missed you, he wanted to live his life with you.

You missed him. The laughs, the love, the safety, the warm feeling in your belly every time he was with you.

But you didn’t want to be with someone that you couldn’t trust anymore.

Somehow though, the thought that he had given up everything he was known for because it was something that hurt you, that took away his relationship that he cherished so much, made you long to wrap your arms around him. Even more so because he hadn’t continued his wild behavior with girls when he could have, his heart and thoughts still remained on you. If he had stopped drinking and partying for you, you could believe everything would be different, be the way it had always been before. That it wouldn’t happen again. At least now you were sure that you still knew him enough, knew how much he loved you, to know that. He loved you.

You felt the wavering of your heart as you stared at him. It was impossible not to be reminded of the good times or to feel yourself yearn for him. His words filled in the puzzle pieces you had been missing, the ones you had filled in for yourself in the worst possible way and had brought you a final piece that showed you the Michael you had known from the beginning, not the evil one you had conjured up in your head. One you could almost forgive.

But that didn’t stop the pain you had been through. It didn’t erase the memory of walking in on him.

“That doesn’t take away what you did, Michael.”

“Stop calling me that!” His voice rose and you cringed back. Your reaction was the only thing that had him softening his tone. He didn’t want to scare you, that was the last thing he wanted. “Mikey. You call me Mikey…I’m Mikey to you.”

His voice sounded so broken, so sad that you felt tears spring up to your own eyes. You wished you could put everything aside and hug him, allow him back into your heart easily and go back to how happy, secure, not alone you had been before everything blew up. But you shouldn’t feel bad when you were the one he had wronged. So you stayed in place.

“You cheated on me. I walked in on you getting dressed while she sat there on your couch! I still think about it every day.” You were crying, tears running freely down your cheeks. The satisfaction you had from your night together was wearing off. “How could you do that to me? I loved you, I trusted you. I was planning to have a future with you. You hurt me.”

Michael took hold of your arms and you let him. “I only found out what happened when I woke up, you walked in before I could even figure everything out. You never should have seen that. I looked everywhere for you after. I tried talking to you, fuck, I would do anything to even just get a glance at you going to class. Anything to just see you again.” He moved closer to you, holding you against him and willing your eyes to his light ones, glistening just a bit with unshed tears. His knees were bent, lowering himself to your height. “It will never happen again.”

When you didn’t answer, when you looked away from him and eyed the door, he grew desperate. He had to bring you back to him. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Do you want me to get the shit beat out of me? I’ll find the biggest guy on campus and let him pummel me. I know I deserve it. Do you want me to go on my knees? I’ll do it. Just please, don’t leave me.”

His voice cracked at the sheer vulnerability of his voice. The sadness, regret and begging seeped in his words so intricately you wondered how you could have the strength to continue fighting him and his love. Because the truth was, even now, you had him wrapped around your finger. He would do anything you asked.

“I want for it not to have happened!” You did anyway. You snatched your arms away from him and took a step backward.

Michael flinched. He actually flinched at your words because it was the one thing he couldn’t give you, no matter how much he wished he could.

“How would you feel?” You asked, “What would you do if it were you in my shoes. If you walked into my apartment and saw a guy getting dressed while I lay there naked next to him?”

Whether he regretted it, understood how wrong it was, whether he even still loved you and did it by accident was irrelevant. He had to understand why, despite your love for him, you couldn’t forgive him so easily. What exactly he was asking you to forget and let go of when he asked you to take him back.

And that’s exactly what your question did. You saw it in the way his eyes darkened and his shoulders stiffened. Just like with Luke, the thought of you with anyone else, worst that he should be there to see the remnants, had him shaking. The anger that had been swirling inside of him since the moment you left seemed to multiply to a level he didn’t know it could get. He didn’t want to imagine the anger, pain, hurt, betrayal that he would feel. To know the woman he loved more than anything else in the world had gone to someone else, let him have something, experience you and your responsive submissiveness and innocence, that was only meant to be between the two of you. He couldn’t imagine the way his body would completely shut down the moment he opened the door and saw. His body went cold at the thought.

But it was what you experienced. And he felt his heart break all over again at what he put you through. Again, he felt the flash of resentment at himself. How selfish he was to be there, demanding you back as if he had any legs to stand on.

“I’d kill him.” It was almost scary, the sincerity in his voice and the dark angry look in his eyes at just the thought. He was so different like that than he was with you. Than the boy currently desperately begging for you. Why had he let himself slip? You could have been so happy right then if that night never happened, if he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he hadn’t gone to the party.

Your resilience was breaking. The happiness you had felt with him was all that was running through your mind. He finally understood you, at least as much as he could. You had convinced yourself he was a lying cheater but as he told you everything, poured out his feelings and regrets, made the changes necessary while still yearning for you even while being ‘free’ and single, you couldn’t help but rewrite what you had classified him as. You were tired of fighting him. You wanted to walk into his arms again and work to move forward, see him fight for you.

“I kissed Justin.” You didn’t know why you said it. Maybe it was to hurt him, one final attempt to fight against what every fiber of your being was screaming at you to do: take the leap of faith, give him another chance, go back to him, be happy and loved again in the way you had only experienced with him. If it was, then your words definitely hit the mark.

Michael felt his throat close up and dry out. Those three little words made his world feel like it was caving in. The room was spinning. So he hadn’t been just jealous at the party, there had been something in the air between you two. Justin had been given a little taste of you, a taste Michael had given him access to. A taste he never should have had. Michael wasn’t the only man who had felt your lips anymore. There would always be Justin, the boy that seemed to be the perfect fit for you. The one Michael knew would probably be better for you.

“When?” He was breathless. A deep pain ran along his chest. He should have driven Justin away once and for all when he had the chance. Instead, he drove you to him.

“After I caught you.” You whispered back. “It was just once.”

You had meant to make him feel bad but at seeing him look so defeated, so utterly sad at your words, you wanted to cushion the blow. You still loved him too much to hurt him, even if he hadn’t given you the same consideration.

It didn’t work. But, you watched in wonder as, instead of blowing up, getting angry and going after Justin, he just hung his head. He looked repentant, guilty, self-accusing. You saw a tear rolling down his cheek. He was crying. You’d never seen your ex cry, never thought he would even be capable of it when he was so strong and so defiant. It almost looked wrong on him, when his body art screamed ‘scary’, ‘obscene’, ‘aggressive’ to have him look so powerless, so defenseless, exposed. But the knowledge of what you had suffered, what he had done, how much he finally understood your side of it had him being vulnerable to you.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured softly. Because it was his fault. He knew it. He drove you to drink, to kiss Justin, to everything that wasn’t who you were, to self destruction. Because he had destroyed your trust, your happiness. He ended up bringing you down just like everyone warned. And he would blame himself for it everyday.

He was mad, of course he was. His temper was flaring and he had his fists clenched tightly at his sides, shaking just slightly to know that your soft lips, your pure smile after a kiss, had been experienced by someone else. If he felt as if he had the right to, he’d go back to the party and show Justin just how much that kiss didn’t matter because you were still his and he’d never get that chance again. But maybe, despite his efforts, despite tonight, he really had lost that right.

It was that vulnerability, that putting aside of his pride, his temper and anger because he put first your feelings, your hurt, that had your knees feeling weak, your heart and mind finally connecting again to the possibility of going back to him. He had hurt you, didn’t consider your feelings when he did, but it was becoming apparent that it wasn’t from lack of caring or love for you. Because when he was himself, when he could think straight, you were the only thing in his mind. The only thing he cared about, and the only person he was willing to submit his being and heart to. Even in the face of the one thing that hurt him most.

The large, scary, cold, and sometimes cruel, man in front of you would go to his knees and accept anything for you. This man wanted a future with you, wanted to have a family with you, love you ’til death do you part, he always had. He had never stopped. And he always will.

Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek hesitantly. You were shaking when you did. Michael leaned into your touch as soon as he felt it, his eyes fluttering closed and you felt your heart constrict even more. Right then, he seemed so harmless. He wasn’t a violent man, he wasn’t a cheater. You weren’t sure if it was at the sight of him or the pain that you still felt, probably would always feel at least a bit.

But you didn’t doubt Michael would fight for you, work to make that pain go away as intensely as if he felt it himself. He would work to show you his love, his complete devotion to you. He’d take the pain for himself if he could, he would shield you from any memories, any whispers, any doubts, any insecurities that you ever might have had. He resented everything he had done already so much more than you could ever imagine, he’d never add to it. Because he was so sure you were it for him, that he’d never do anything to hurt you or pull you away from him again. He loved you too much, he’d never want to cheat, never want to do anything that wasn’t to worship you entirely. He adored you.

“It’s going to take me some time to be completely okay.” It wouldn’t be an easy road, the sting of betrayal will be a shadow following you for a long time. But you were willing to take the time, the effort, the risk of future pain. Because, staring at the man who stood in front of you, the one who resembled the man you fell in love with, you didn’t think you would have a problem. He loved you, he was patient, kind, with you. He’d do anything to keep you at his side, the girl who loved him despite his flaws. He would protect you, now knowing what he’d lost already, he wouldn’t hurt you again. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you again.

What he had done was a choice he would still have to be confronted with, still pay for, but it was one he could learn from, one he would cast aside and never experience again because he wouldn’t let himself ruin his relationship again. He was devoted completely to you, had never stopped. Even still, even this heart broken version of him.

Michael’s eyes snapped open at your words. His eyes were swirling with impossible hope, his mouth open in surprise. He was too afraid to ask but he had to anyway, had to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. “Does that mean-”

“Just one more chance. One more and if it happens again, Michael, I swear I’m gone. For good.” It wouldn’t be the same either, for a while at least. He would have to keep fighting for you. But he’d at least have that opportunity.

It was a strict condition. But one you wouldn’t have to worry about. Because while you knew Michael regretted his actions, you’d never really know just how much that regret ran. Enough that, if you had even a hint, you’d know just how much of a mistake that girl, that night was. One he never wanted to even think of again, let alone repeat. He wouldn’t even dream of it when he had you and no one else could compare to how you made him feel, both in and out of the bedroom. No one could feel as good, respond as well, make him so happy, loved and as if he finally had a home.

“It won’t. Never again.” You could barely hear what he said before he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. He held you like his life depended on it, like this would turn out just to be a dream if he let you go.

Maybe you were making a mistake. But as you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent, allowed yourself to relish the feeling of being in his arms, you didn’t think so. You’d missed him so much, and right then you felt the warmth, adoration and complete safety you always felt with him. You finally felt calm and happy again at the prospect of a future with him at your side again, not on edge completely and sad all the time. You didn’t feel apprehension of what you had just done, at forgiving him.

You felt hope. Hope that things could be different, that you could go back to the relationship and man that had given you so much, including a feeling of home, belonging and love. And this time learning without the shadow of the past behind you because you’d eventually move past it, he’d show you only your present and future. He’d make you finally understand that despite his past and his awful mistake, you’d never have to compare yourself to other girls. Because your experience with him was unique and no one else would see or feel the mean, violent, tattooed boy in front of you the same way you would.

“I love you so much.” He murmured again and you could hear the pure emotion through his voice. The gratitude. The awe. You were so forgiving, such a good person. And he still didn’t deserve you.

This time you took a deep breath before conceding what you had tried to keep hidden for all these past months, even from yourself. To no avail because it had never wavered, never withered. Just hurt the more and more you tried to cast it aside.

“I love you, too.”

You felt the sigh of relief pull through his body and when he pulled away from you, it was just enough for him to place his forehead against yours. His eyes were still closed as if he was trying to ingrain this in his memory, the feeling of your merciful forgiveness, your body against his against, your love back on him. He would never let this go again, he’d never take it for granted (he never did).

“But no more drinking so much.” You said, half joking, as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. Michael wanted to cry out at the feeling he thought he would never get to experience again. He had more time with you, more chances to have you in his arms, be vulnerable, be happy without the cloud of anger swirling in his heart because he could never be angry with you around.

His laugh was good natured, one he had lost for a bit without you. His eyes and smile brighter than they had been for a while. He looked alive, happy. The way he’d only ever been with you. Your eyes were still strained with hurt, but you were sure your expression matched. His face buried itself in the crook of your neck, shielded by your dark hair.

“I promise.” And you’d have to learn to finally trust his word again. But you could, especially when he would prove his loyalty, his love like never before. He’d work for your trust back and he was willing to do anything to do so just like you were willing to let him. “I’ll prove to you that you never have anything to worry about ever again, that you can trust me. You’re the love of my life, princess. I’ll never let you go again. I want a life with you, forever.”

When his lips found yours in a slow, loving kiss, you let his hands cup your face, one in your hair. And you kissed back. It was a kiss that translated his disbelief of having you back, his repentance and his adoration of you that transcended everything else in his life. He picked your small frame up, holding you so he could reach you and kiss you as deeply, hold you as closely, as he wanted to. You weren’t looking at him like he was a bad guy anymore. You looked so cute and happy with that big smile he had missed so badly, held up by his arms, your white dress hanging off of you loosely and contrasted starkly against the black tattoos lining his arms. He was the luckiest man in the world.

The very thing he now held a deep resentment for was what had brought you back to him. If you hadn’t gone to the party, if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t be his girlfriend again. And while he was determined never to look back at them, he couldn’t help but thank the heavens that you were back to him, back in his arms. Everything felt just as it was meant to be.

It was still there. The overwhelming chemistry between you. The click that sounded whenever you two were together because you were just so right together. You were soulmates.

You would be alright.

♔

the end.

♔

thank you to everyone who has read and followed this series! i loved it so much and bringing the story out of my mind and to life has been so exciting. i can’t say how happy it makes me that you have read it, liked it, shared it, and even talked to me about it. i appreciate you all so much.

i loved their little world and following their relationship & dynamic so much and leaving it makes me so sad.

hopefully we can see more of it in the future (am i hinting at an ash story…..maybe)

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