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joonsytip · 8 months

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Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 4

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): drama, crying, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, everything is on rocks, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, italics represents occurrences in past

Word Count: 6.3k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

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They say betrayal is worse than death if you taste it from someone you trust, someone you love. It's stingy, it's sickening, it's scathing.

You have always believed in soulmates, entitled Seungcheol to that word since you've known him, even wanted to make promises of eternity with him. But you should have seen the signs, should have never crossed the lines. Must not have tried to slip into the loopholes.

But you got blinded by greed, a hopeful stance of getting back together. Was it so wrong to wish a happily ever after with the one you have loved selflessly? Apparently it was.

"Sit.", you tell Seungcheol and the later obeys.

And as he does so his eyes fall on a very familiar document kept on the table. Instantly, he goes numb.

You observe him for a moment and play the recordings Jiah had given you. Midway, a panic stricken Seungcheol runs to you and pauses the recording.

He grabs your arms and says in desperation, "I didn't do all this Y/N. I admit I had planned all this because I wanted revenge but please trust me, it wasn't me."

"Unhand me.", you command him coldly, "Your touch disgusts me."

Seungcheol looks at you alarmingly before freeing your arms. He thinks of ways to convince you because in actuality, like he said he had planned it all but something out of scope happened. He fell in love with you again so long gone were all of those thoughts and schemes.

"What goes around, surely comes around.", you let out a chuckle, "Maybe that's why, I'm going through this. I get that you wanted to trample me upon. It's fair, to think about what you've been through because of me, I could have understood.", you look at him, "You could have handed me the divorce papers on our anniversary. Could have had other women and it would have wounded me. But-"

The tears pooling at the corner of your eyes are streaming down, "But how could you stoop so low? Knowing how much this academy matters to me, knowing what music means to me, you went out to attack my soul."

"No Y/N, I was a fool, please please", Seungcheol is crying as well, choking on his words, "It was wrong of me but I would never--"

"They are calling me a thief. Because of this incident those out there are questioning my whole career. The career, I've pursued after fighting the odds, after struggling for years. The one thing that is entirely mine.", your eyes turn darker as you say, "You could have rather killed me, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol gasps and shakes his head frantically.

"Even if I clear my name today, there will be people who'll still doubt my ability. Some out there would assume that I might be guilty and just because I belong to an influential family, I must have pushed everything under the rug with money.", you are hurting yourself with every word you utter at this point, clutching your chest, "My image is tainted, my career is ruined. They will never look at me the same way."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Y/N", he gets on his knees and clasps his hands, pleading, "I would do anything to clear your name. I'd do anything to win back your trust just give me one chance--"

You take his hands off you saying, "I have always loved you, Seungcheol. Back then, even now, I have chosen you. But none of that matters now. You have stabbed me in the back but I'll be one to pay the price. I thought you'd be different but these genes run in your family. I can't even blame Jiah. You Choi's are no different from her--", you halt.

"What do you mean?", Seungcheol asks confused.

"As I said none of that matters now. You are so petty that you acted out the whole thing. You don't love me and from today onwards I won't either.", you answer him, taking out the wedding ring from your dress pocket, "Here, I'm giving you what you wanted.", you take his hand and place the ring on his palm, "Congratulations! This marriage didn't get through it's first year. But I have a present for you. I have filed for divorce, the papers will be sent to you as soon as they're ready."

Seungcheol is at loss of words. He's unable to comprehend the situation. He wants to stop you but on what ground? The irreversible damage is already done.

"I have all of my belongings sent over.", you inform him, "And if you're planning to create a fuss about the divorce and what's gonna happen after the conference, head on. I won't be giving up like last time. I'll see through the end of it."

"It's happening again", he tells himself and sounds so broken when he speaks through his wavering voice, "Please don't leave me again."

"I had no choice, I was forced to leave you back then", you mutter under your breath, making it impossible for him to hear, "I was willing to stay this time but I have to leave, this time for my sake."

While you gather the rest of your belongings, Seungcheol stands there helpless. And as you walk out of the house, he watches you take away the life of his adobe with you.

Seungcheol numbly tunes in to watch the press conference. He sees you on the screen, out of his reach, out of his life. He listens to each word you say. How sad you look as you address the matter. Even though your legal team briefs the journalists, his eyes are glued to you. He observes how you don't explicitly mention him or the Choi enterprise but throw sublte hints to catch on.

But you make it obvious at the end of the conference by announcing your divorce to Seungcheol.

"I have filed for divorce against Choi Seungcheol and I would like to refrain you all from associating me with the Choi's in future."

Seungcheol is immediately thrown under the bus. People who were coining you as a thief are now praising you and busy portraying him as the villain.

But mopping won't do him any good. His mind reel backs to every word you have said before leaving. He needs to get answers to some questions. Most importantly, he has to get you back.

The next few days goes by Seungcheol handling the legal charges against him which are minor because he digs out enough evidence to prove that he wasn't involved in the slander and Jiah is the main culprit, adding exceptional charges to the list that would nearly ruin her and damage her company's reputation.

The Choi enterprise faces reputation loss as well which results in their stock plummeting and the board of directors complaining about the situation. But being humungous in business, the impact isn't uncontrollable and since Seungcheol is mentally exhausted his father lets him loose taking matters into his hands for the time being.

Everything is manageable or bearable except for the divorce papers which he has received on your first anniversary, that sits coldly on his office table.

"The house I bought is an hour drive from here and I'm planning to stay there for some time, just to take my mind off of things." you say fishing out your car keys, "I have saved my new contact number to your phones."

"But are you sure you don't want us to be there with you?", your mother asks worriedly.

"At least let us help you shift--"

"Dad, I have lived alone before as well. Plus Chan and my friends are gonna help me with the unpacking.", you move over to hug both of your parents, "Visit me after it's done. Plus I'm planning to throw a cozy house warming house, not soon though."

"We're proud of you.", your mother says patting your head.

"I'm sorry for all the troubles and stress you've been through for the past year.", you mumble, quickly wiping your tears, "I'll be fine, no looking back promise."

"We have always trusted you, just take care of yourself and call us.", your father says kissing your forehead.

Chan waits for you by the car and he doesn't let you drive throughout the time it takes to reach your new house. As your friends help you settle into your new home, you are grateful to them for keeping you distracted and not bringing up Seungcheol.

"I'm sorry, Kwan. The academy had to face such an incident because of me.", you say hanging your head low in shame because you don't want anyone to see your tears, the can of beer in your hand remains unsipped, "I have decided to take some time off, please handle the academy and it's okay if you want me to backout. I'll transfer my shares to you."

Seungkwan blames the atmosphere for the tears in his eyes. He wipes them and sits beside you, "I couldn't have done it alone. The reason the academy exists is because we both had given it our all. So take all the time you want but you'll have to return."

You lean onto him and it's your brother who comes to wipe your tears.

"I'm so sorry Chan.", you speak through the tears, "I should have listened to you. I never thought that Seu--", you go quiet because it pains you to even say his name.

Everyone in room goes silent. It's not haunting rather comforting. But the successive ringing of the phones cause a mild commotion.

"Wonwoo keeps on calling us.", Eunsoo mutters, switching off her phone.

"Just tell him that I'm fine.", you tell her, "I'll give him a call later. I haven't visited Wonseok lately so I need to talk to him anyways."

It's amusing, how the night changes.

Seungcheol is distressed. He realises you are not the only one he has lost, he has lost Ms. Oh's empathy, he has also lost precious friend Wonwoo as well.

Wonwoo is back to his stoic self, the version he was when Seungcheol met him first. Only talks business with him, leaves as soon as he's done with assigned work. No more late night drinks, no more taking shots, none of the banter.

He watches you laugh as Wonwoo tells you something animatedly. He watches how your eyes are dull even though your lips are stretched.

Seungcheol had overheard Wonwoo talking to someone on the phone about his brother so he decides to visit him seperately just to check on him. He didn't expect to see you there, making him question since when you knew about Wonseok.

Your face falls when you're suddenly interrupted by Seungcheol's presence. He stands in front of you wordless, you don't bother to strike any conversation with him either.

"I'll get going, let me know if you need anything else.", you tell Wonwoo and turn around walk away.

"Y/N", Seungcheol says, "Can I please talk to you?"

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, "I don't think we have any business with each other. Do me a favour and just sign the divorce papers."

"I can't.", Seungcheol speaks out without missing a beat, "I need you Y/N, please give me a chance, let me make things right. I promise I won't let you down anymore."

"Enough with this act, don't assume you could fool me twice. I'm done with you.", you move around so now you're facing him again.

"You've changed your number.", he says meekly, "I don't get to see you anymore. That house haunts me, it's not the same without you."

You step in, closing the gap within you two, "You're facing the consequences of your actions. Stop acting like a fucking victim.", you spat out before walking out.

Wonwoo is torn. He doesn't want to take sides, it's even more difficult to see both of his dear friends grieving and suffering but there's nothing he could do.

"Wonseok is going through a series of surgeries because his condition had worsened and Y/N has been paying for them.", Wonwoo informs Seungcheol and before he could ask, Wonwoo adds, "You're already paying me more than I should be so I didn't want to burden you more. She had accidentally found out about Wonseok one day and decided to help me out even though I wasn't ready to accept it. She was determined and I couldn't stop her."

Seungcheol isn't surprised rather he is confused. This version of yours is what he was habituated to when you were dating until you convinced him it wasn't on the day you broke up. Something isn't adding up. Something about your nature and the way you act to what you had said that day are contradicting. You aren't mean-hearted, you are a giver so why did you years ago do something so bizarre, the thought is unsettling.

"She has been taking some time off from the academy, no one knows when she'll be back. She is so affected by the incident that she was ready to give up on the academy. The one she had built from scratch with her blood, sweat and tears." Wonwoo speaks disappointedly, "Do you realise what you have done?"

Seungcheol is ashamed, there's an unhealing pain in his heart thinking about you, about how he should be the one aiding you in your tough time but he can't because he's the reason you're in agony.

"As you know, I had also hated Y/N for what she had done. And now that you see me being friends with her is not because she's paying for Wonseok.", Wonwoo halts and takes a breath, choosing his words carefully, "It goes far beyond that. You have always been heedful, I think it's time for you to be vigilant as well. The truth might be far from what you've believed it to be."

Wonwoo doesn't spare another second on his watch as he walks away ignoring the desperate calls of his name.

Seungcheol's mind is not in place anymore.

Your thoughts are everywhere. Peace and happiness are some of the things you haven't gotten to feel lately. Though you've decided to spend time alone at home, the loneliness is caving you in.

Maybe tonight you're feeling a little more lonely than usual. Maybe you shouldn't miss the person who had pushed you to the edge of the cliff. Maybe you shouldn't be good with dates. Maybe you shouldn't trace your thumb on the calendar reminiscing about the day, you both had made it official years ago.

The damned tears aren't stopping, your heart isn't healing.

The bell rings and you are surprised because no one is supposed to visit you today. Quickly wiping your eyes and cheeks you don't bother to check the monitor and open the door.

At the other side of the threshold stands Seungcheol. Your red eyes gape at him as he looks at you shivering from driving all the way here in the snow.

"What are you doing here?"

You know getting your new address and number wouldn't be a big deal to Seungcheol given his network runs deeper.

"Can you let me in atleast, I'm freezing."

You cross over your arms and step aside. He saunters in and wanders off to have a tour of the house. He stops when he senses the glare you're sending him.

"If you realise that this house too plain for your taste you can always contact me. We're best in the business.", Seungcheol says as his lips purse in a line.

"I wonder from where did you get the audacity to come here?", you ask plainly.

"Just wanted to see you", he admits, "I miss you, Y/N."

You scoff at his words.

"Also, there's something you left behind, I found it while going through the drawers.", Seungcheol fishes out a notebook from his inner coat pocket.

You immediately recognise the object, raising your hand flat for him to handover it to you.

"I instantly got reminded of you always carrying it and scribbled down if anything came to your mind. Seems like you had kept this notebook from prior to university days.", he hands over the notebook and touches your hand gently in the process.

His touch turns to strong grip and he doesn't let go.

"Thanks.", you say trying to free your hand, "You should leave now."

The wedding ring on his finger feels cold on your skin.

"I know you remember what day it is today.", he says pulling you closer so that now you're colliding into him, your faces an inch apart. Your eyes are wide and the notebook falls as you're grabbing onto his shoulder out of reflex.

He has an undeniable look of longing in his eyes. You should just push him away, even kick him out but you find yourself frozen.

"I still remember falling in love with you, every moment of it.", he whispers, his gaze switching between your eyes and lips.

"So I do, Cheol.", his nickname slips out of your mouth so casually, there's a pause before you speak, "Why did you have to ruin it all?"

"I regret it all.", he gently holds your face, "But I realised that I never stopped loving you otherwise why would I despise you if I hadn't been in love in the first place."

"You could have broken my heart but you went after my soul."

"You did the same to me years ago. You took my soul away and I became just a shell.", he isn't complaining, just letting you know how difficult it was for him as well, "I planned everything to get back to you but what wasn't planned was my feelings resurfacing, falling in love with you all over again. I had forgotten all the schemes, had forgotten the reason why I hated you in the first place."

When he rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes basking in the moment. What he did was definitely beyond any excuse but Seungcheol isn't entirely at fault. The fact that he was ready to start again with you after how you had treated him years ago proves the truth behind his words. The difference is you were forced to act out but he wasn't. He chose to destroy you.

So your eyes snap open and you're pushing him away.

"Leave Seungcheol.", you step away, "And never come back again."

Seungcheol sighs, "What should I do for you take me back? If you want I would never show myself in the vicinity of the academy. I wouldn't even ask you anything remotely related to your works or the academy. I'll stay all out of it, I promise."

"Nothing you do would make me go back to you.", your words taste bitter in your mouth, "We are not meant to be, we're not good for each other."

That is basically you firmly rejecting him, letting him aware that he has axed the mended fence.

Seungcheol smiles sadly, "Only if I could show you my heart and mind."

He then leaves with a heavy heart.

The next few days goes by Seungcheol racking his thoughts to make up his mind. Every time he thinks about you wanting to desperately cut ties with him, he relents. He laments on himself for what he has caused. At nights when he deliberately stays late, he mentally prepares himself to sign those papers because that's the only way to atone for his sins.

But those divorce papers get through every night without getting signed. Because when Seungcheol thinks he's ready that's when the realisation gnaws on him that he's actually not, that he'll never be.

And it gets harder each time he tries.

So one night, he lets his intrusive thoughts get the best of him and he ends up calling you.

"I'm trying but I can't bring myself to sign those papers", he speaks into the phone clutching it hard followed by a shaky breath, "I really want to give you what you want but whenever I think about not having you in my life, my willingness deters."

You stay quiet.

"Sorry to disturb you. Don't know what I was thinking. Please take care of yourself, bye.", he hangs up and collapses back on the chair.

Wonwoo watches through the blinds and he isn't new to this. Years ago Seungcheol had gone into a spiral, had almost given up on living post the breakup and now it hurts Wonwoo to see the history repeating itself.

So this time he promises to intervene for both of your sake, specially Seungcheol.

He has two things on his to-do list and though he isn't sure what the outcome will be, he's going to do them. He gathers everyone and let's them know of his plan.

"Mingyu, Eunsoo, Seungkwan", his gaze sweeps on the three, "You're gonna go and convince Y/N."

"I'll go to uncle and aunt.", Wonwoo says.

Eunsoo looks at him questionably, "We get our part. But are you sure your friend's gonna be okay?"

"Most importantly, I'm not sure how this will end because both of them are unpredictable as fuck.", Mingyu adds.

Seungkwan who was silent the whole time, speaks, "Guys, let's go for it. We will handle the aftermath.", he looks at Wonwoo, "You'll have to take care of Seungcheol because he's gonna hurt the most."

"It's better to be over it, Seungcheol deserves to know."

"What's wrong with you guys?", You ask absolutely astonished. All of your friends have suddenly busted into your house and are now advocating you on something that is supposed to be out of their box.

"Why are you suddenly siding with Seungcheol?", you say with a frown, "I'm feeling betrayed. I'm gonna call Chan now."

Eunsoo and Mingyu break into cold sweat knowing how scary your brother can be. Seungkwan sighs looking at the other two and gets that he has no other way but to sort down to what he's best at. He says, "Y/N, do you think we'd ever think ill of you? Do you think we'd be at your door because suddenly we felt emphatic towards Seungcheol? That's how lowly you think of us?"

The look on Mingyu and Eunsoo's faces are absolute comedic. They didn't expect Seungkwan would pull out his trump card.

Your gaze is unwavering when you say, "This won't work on me you know right?"

Seungkwan smiles, "Of course I know but we also know that you love Seungcheol and won't be happy without him. So we're saying all this just for your sake, not his, not anyone else's."

"You're wr-"

"You had 7 years but you couldn't get over him, even accepted his family just to marry him.", Seungkwan continues, "You had come across so many good men all these years but no one piqued your interest because you only had Seungcheol in your heart."

"Y/N, I did believe him when he said he fell in love again. I had seen the way he looked at you, the way he was protective around you. The way his eyes were always on you, radiating love. It may have started as an act but at some point it became real.", Eunsoo smiles at you, "He loves you."

"But Soo--"

"If you really loathed him, you wouldn't have waited for him to sign those divorce papers, you would have upsurged everything. You have the power to ruin the Chois wholly but you're just buying yourself some time.", Mingyi adds and immediately shifts to hug you, "What Seungcheol did was incredibly wrong, wait he didn't even do it. It was Jiah."

"Are you not getting Jiah did all just to separate you both again?", Seungkwan ask and you look at him wide eyed.

"She had done the exact thing years back and was successful. Please don't let her win again. If she can't have Seungcheol, she has planned all this for you to not have him as well.", Eunsoo voices out her concerns, "Don't let all these heartbreaks, tears and sacrifices go in vain just because of some misunderstandings. Don't do something you'd regret because you didn't mend it when you had a chance."

Your heart sinks at their words.

"Take your time but choose what you think is the best for you.", Eunsoo rubs your back gently, "Rationality shouldn't always take the stance, sometimes hearts should be listened to."

You take a deep breath and say, "Fine guys, I'll think about it."

The smile on their faces are unmatchable.

Seungcheol is worried when he receives a call from his mother asking him to urgently come to their house. Wonwoo is already waiting by the car and though Seungcheol asks if he knows anything he stays tight lipped throughout the ride.

"I'll be waiting for you right here. Call me if you need me.", Wonwoo says with an intone and for some reason it doesn't resonate well with Seungcheol.

He is led into his father's study where he sees both of his parents waiting. They are heartbroken seeing their only son. Seungcheol has lost weight, accumulated bags under red eyes, appearance unkempt.

"Take a seat.", his father says, "I have something to tell you and it's regarding Y/N."

Seungcheol immediately perks up at your mention. An eerie silence falls upon the room. Seungcheol's anxious gaze searches for his parents'.

"Y/N was forced to break up with you years ago. I had made her do so.", his father admits.

Seungcheol freezes. He thinks he's hearing things that are not supposed to make any sense.

"Ever since I had started the business I had been diligent to it. Dedication and honesty does account for success but so also being money minded and cunning. As years went by that consistency and success made me cling to riches, fame and status that came along with it.", his father says as he takes a seat gesturing him to do the same. "You must be remembering that we were facing financial crisis because one of our major investor had withdrawn. It had affected us greatly."

Seungcheol nods, "We were on the verge of facing bankruptcy."

"Since Jiah's father runs a finance company, we had made small sort of deals previously but that time the amount required was large and no one was willing to help us not even her father. But later Jiah came to me and offered me a deal."

"W-What deal?"

"That she would convince her father to provide us support only if", there's an ominous pause before Mr. Choi looks at him and says, "I remove Y/N out of your life."

A tear falls from his eye, as he hears the tale of betrayal from none other but his father.

"I have never liked Y/N, the reason was basic, she didn't belong to our circle. Initially I thought she was just a fling but so I agreed with Jiah."

Seungcheol is numb at this point, he just sorts to listening.

"One day I had brought in Y/N to let her know that she needs to find her way out of your life.", Mr. Choi's gaze falls, "She instantly refused. No matter what I said she wasn't willing to leave you. One meeting turned to two, two turned to three but she was hellbent on not letting you go."

"With Jiah constantly pressurizing me, threatening to nullify the deal if not taken action soon, I became desperate.", he confesses, "So I resorted to one thing I should have never done. I can never forgive myself for that."

You say in utter disbelief, "Why don't you tell your son to breakup with me instead? Stop pestering me, you know we both love each other and Mr. Choi let me make this clear, this is the last time I'm meeting you."

Mr. Choi gives you a sickening smile. He casually says, "Your brother is currently studying in Australia, if I'm not wrong."

You pale instantly, "W-What about him?"

"You're right, this is gonna be our last meeting. If you don't breakup with my son, I'm not sure what I'll do with your brother. What if you don't get to see your dear little brother anymore?"

"Mr. Choi, you can't do this. Please--"

"I'm not here to negotiate. I think you're smart enough to make the right choice. So tell me Y/N, what did you decide?"

You are crying and begging but there's no mercy reserved to spare for you. How are you supposed to choose between your brother and the love of your life? You will have to so you choose what's best for all, you choose both.

"Fine, I'll breakup with Seungcheol. So stay away from my brother."

Mr. Choi smiles in mirth, "You made the right descision. Rest assured."

With job being done, he is walking out of the hall when your call of his name reaches his ears.

He turns with an incredulous look on his face as he waits for you to speak.

"Promise me that you'll never tell Seungcheol about this incident.", comes your strained voice.

"I wasn't planning to anyways.", Mr. Choi says, "Even better for me, I promise to not tell Seungcheol about any of this."

Seungcheol runs to his father with the intention of doing something unspeakable but he stops right in front of him and collapses on the ground.

"How could you do this?", he sobs uncontrollably, "How could you stoop so low?", he balls his hands into fists and channels the anger on the floor, hitting it again and again that's when his mother steps in to stop him.

He looks at her and say, "How could you not tell me? How could you tolerate your husband even after knowing all this?", he then swats her away.

Getting up, he's gasping for air, unable to comprehend with the pain in his chest and head. Restlessness engulfs him but he doesn't let both of his parents to even touch him.

"I'm ashamed to call you both my parents.", he spats out, "I'll never forgive for ruining our lives. I hope all of this was worth it."

Then he's running out of the house ignoring the calls of his name. Wonwoo is immediately grabbing his friend, making him sit and drink water.

"You also knew but didn't tell me?", Seungcheol asks as fresh tears stream down his face.

"I only came to know recently and Cheol even if I had known, it's not my story to tell.", Wonwoo answers.

It takes Seungcheol over an hour to calm down.

"You don't need to attend me, I'm fine.", Seungcheol says stoicly, "You can go, I have somethings to take care of."

Though Wonwoo refutes but Seungcheol is adamant, leaving no choice for him but to obey his boss.

As soon as Wonwoo gets out of the car, Seungcheol drives off.

You are extremely tired, mentally and today for some reasons are you feel thinned out physically as well.

Staring at the cello, ominous thoughts fill in your mind. Because no matter how hard you try, you are unable to produce anything. There are no notes or no tunes, it's all blank.

And you're scared, what if music doesn't choose you anymore? What if you can't produce anything for the rest of your life? All these possibilities scares you enough to spend sleepless nights. It has disturbed your appetite as well.

Tossing and turning, as you've been doing for nights with minimal sleep at dawn hours, you sit up startled when the doorbell rings.

All the exhaustion is now replaced with concern when you see Seungcheol who continuously weeps at the door.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Just a shake of head and he keeps on crying.

It's been about twenty minutes since he arrived crying and you're seriously considering about calling Wonwoo.

The way he's visibly hurting, hurts you too and you resort to hug him, patting his back, "If you're hurting because of me, please don't.", you say softly, tears pricking at your eyes subconsciously.

Seungcheol pulls away, looking at you. His sobs stop and the first thing he does is hold your face and kiss you. You're surprised, his lips graze yours but you don't kiss him back. Your hands push his chest and he's detaching himself mumbling a string of apologies.

"It was all for nothing.", he sounds so heartbroken when he speaks, "All those years spent in pain, hatred and resentment towards you, you didn't deserve any of it."

You have an inkling and it doesn't settle well in your bones, "Whatever you're saying is making no sense. Why are you here?"

Seungcheol looks dead in your eyes, "Because I know now. I know what happened all those years ago."

Your soul leaves your body at his words. You never wanted him to find out because you knew it'd tear him apart.

"W-Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

And your very first instinct is to grab your phone and make a call to his father but Seungcheol doesn't let you. The phone gets snatched from your hands and thrown away somewhere.

"Why did you do it?", he asks and his questions irks you.

You scoff, "Are you seriously asking me why I did it after knowing everything? Seungcheol, I was threatened with my brother's life, what did you expect me to do?"

Seungcheol shakes his head, "No that Y/N. Why did you make dad promise you about not telling me about this?"

"What could I have done Seungcheol?", your voice cracks, "I loved you so much and trust me, I tried everything I could to be with you, to not hurt you but-- it killed me to lie to you. I went through hell and back trying to stop myself from telling you 'no I'm lying, please don't leave, I love you as much as you do'.

"That day I took your heart away.", You exhale sharply, "I didn't want to crush your soul as well, didn't want to make it anymore difficult for you then it already was. I knew how much you looked upto your father, how much you cherished your parents. I didn't want you to fight your family", your heart twinges as you continue, "Though it wasn't possible for me to love again, I prayed that you would move on, meet someone who'd make you forget all the sorrows I gave you. I wished for you to fall in love again and live happily."

You chuckled through your tears, "Won't lie, it would have hurt me but if it assured your happiness I'd have hurt myself all over again, all of the times."

Seungcheol observes you quietly, he absorbs your words to his heart.

"What does that make me, Y/N?", he asks defeated.

"You weren't at fault, Cheol. I chose what it seemed the best for all of us."

"I hated you, married you and plotted revenge. Hurt you and now indirectly lead to something that almost ruined your career.", he speaks as if he's narrating a monologue, "I kept wounding the wounded and siding with the foes."

"Stop blaming yourself. What you did was indeed wrong, you should have never attempted take a blow at my career. But years ago, even after all that you were ready to start again.", you remind him.

Seungcheol completely shuts himself out.

"Till yesterday, I was in a dilemma. They say if you love someone you should let them go. Call me selfish but I couldn't even think of parting ways with you. I wanted to fight for us. I'd have courted you until you got bored of me. I would have waited for a lifetime, even if you'd have moved on.", he avoids eye contact so that his resolution doesn't deter, "But how could I tie you to the people who tried to harm you, harm your family?"

"I won't beg for forgiveness anymore. Honestly, I don't want you to forgive us. If you're having second thoughts about us, discard them. Please just discard me.", he voices out in desperation, "Be selfish and choose yourself this one time."

He takes out a paper from his coat pocket which you recognise very well.

"Till yesterday signing these papers seemed impossible for me but it's surprising, how events turned out to be.", he takes your hand and places the paper saying, "I have signed them. This time I chose what's best for you."

There's a sickening churn in your stomach that makes you realise that there's nothing you can do.

"I love you, Y/N."

The weight of those words fall heavy on you as Seungcheol closes in.

"For one last time, please.", he says holding your face.

You incline towards him and instantly his lips are on yours. One of his hands now settle on your neck firmly as your lips dance on featherly. His other hand is gripping your waist to hold you in place. The saltiness of his tears burn on your tongue, making you suck in a gasp. His kisses you till his heart's content because it's a kiss of goodbye before resting his forehead on yours.

"Don't go", your strained voice whispers, "Please don't go."

Seungcheol whispers back, "I have to. Please don't stop me, I'm not strong enough to refuse you."

The tears stream down your face, "Would nothing I do be enough to stop you?"

"Y/N, please", he pleads, "You were right when you said we're not meant to be because I have only hurt you. I don't deserve you."

"Cheol..."

He steps back and you're suddenly engulfed by coldness.

"The chapter named Choi Seungcheol in your life ends right now.", he balls his hands, grits his teeth, does everything to not let those tears spill, "Since you might not submit the divorce papers, I have already handed over a copy to your attorney."

He turns back, rubbing his chest, the pain is unbearable.

"Cheol, please..."

"It's snowing so don't follow me outside, you'll catch a cold. Goodbye Y/N."

Then he leaves, from your house, apparently from your life.

And you realised not all stories have a happy ending, there's not always a happily ever after.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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rhysazriel · 3 months

Text

Meet Me in the Copy Room [CEO!Rhysand]

SUMMARY: Rhysand is Y/N’s boss but he likes his secretary more than he should. (10.8k)

WARNINGS: teasing, swearing, kissing, smut; dirty talk, fingering, oral (both receiving and face sitting), protected sex, multiple orgasms

A/N: this is a fic from my other account that I no longer use, I changed some bits around for it to fit Rhys' character after an anon had requested it!! Also, this is a Modern AU bc Rhys’ vibe screams CEO hehe

Y/N has worked in many places before Velaris LTD. She was a waitress for a brief few months when she was in college at a diner near her dorm. She was also a librarian for six months and a part-time barista in the cafe down the street from her parents home.

She’s done her share in retail and even a year working in the bank, but as of recent, the past seven months, she’s been employed by Velaris LTD, one of the worlds finest trading companies.

She’s no longer assigned a God awful uniform, nor does she have to converse with the general public and adhere to the customers' every need. No. Now, Y/N has her own little office area with a big reception desk with her own phone and separate line across her boss’ office.

Now, she has her own computer and a little fax machine and she wears heels with pencil skirts and pretty blouses.

Given, she’s a secretary, but an important one at that. She’s not the kind of secretary that runs pointless errands and gets her boss coffee while adhering to their every beck and call. She arranges meetings in the most elite of clubs and restaurants. She files the reports she’s meant to and she handles his schedule and phone calls.

He may be the CEO, but Y/N is the one behind closed doors that ensures everything runs as smoothly as it does.

And sure, Rhysand is the literal face and name of his damn company and he should ideally hire someone to run the damn business for him, but he’s also narcissistic and refuses whenever it’s brought up to let another man or woman run his business for him.

Maybe that’s what she likes so much about her job. That he doesn’t trust anyone to be by his side except her.

It’s something she’s struggled to understand for the longest time. She’s three years younger than him, barely just turned twenty-six, yet he chose to hire her over all the other highly-qualified applicants.

She hasn’t complained about it, would never. Her job is too good. As his personal secretary, her monthly wage is what four months at the diner used to get her. And don’t get her started on the other perks her position offers.

She’s thankful, and she makes that very clear in every opportunity she gets. She didn’t know Rhysand before she got the job, and if she’s completely honest, she’d never ever heard of him.

She expected him to be some stuck up prick that didn’t respect women and only cared for his company and business. She was proven incredibly wrong at her interview when he made her a cup of tea and asked inclusive questions her previous employers didn’t care to think of.

Within three weeks of having the job, she’d learned more about him than the colleagues that have worked for him since the beginning of his firm. And she doesn’t mean things like how he takes his coffee and his favourite places to go for lunch. She means she knows what laundry detergent he can’t use because it irritates his skin.

She knows his mother and sister are the most important women to him, that he sometimes misses his mundane life working with his brothers. She knows the meanings behind almost every single tattoo he has and that while the press made him out to be a cheating womaniser when his fiancee left him two years ago, it was actually her that did the cheating and left him heartbroken.

She’s always wondered why Rhysand trusts her so much. She’s never given him a reason not to, and she never would, but it’s always been in the back of her mind. But then, she supposes she doesn’t know why Rhys does a lot of things that regard her.

Like how, in the mornings, he brings her coffee on his way past her desk. How he always insists he delivers paperwork to her himself and softly apologises for how much she has to file away.

Or how he’ll send her cheeky emails from his personal about how annoying Gerione is when she tries to flirt with him. And on more than one occasion, she’s noticed him leaning in his chair to get a peek at her through the window of his office; craning his neck up to see her past the high wall of her reception-like desk.

She doesn’t say anything to him, though. She supposes he’s trying to sneakily check in on her to make sure she’s actually doing the work. Y/N knows she’s not the youngest to work for Velaris LTD, but she is the youngest to be fully employed and not as an intern.

She’s faced ageism within the company since her first day. She’s either babied by the mothers of the company, or criticised and borderline bullied by the ones a few years older and higher up. She hasn’t much let it get to her, though. She figures she’s clearly a valuable asset if the company is still running and Rhysand still wants her by his side.

Today feels no different from any other. She gets to work at 7:45 AM, a sleepy smile on her lips as she greets Amora at the front desk. He smiles through tightly pursed lips and quickly avoids her gaze, greeting another worker with a high-pitched laugh and kissing their cheek.

Y/N keeps walking, doesn’t let herself dwell and makes for the elevator. She’s alone until she gets up to the twelfth floor and the keycard clipped to her pencil skirt is gently patting against the left side of her lower tummy.

She doesn’t let her eyes take in her appearance as she walks past the floor-to-ceiling mirror that encompasses an entire 15-foot long wall. She knows her ponytail is tight enough and that her shirt is probably a little wonky because her bag that rests on her shoulder is tugging at the collar of it.

She also doesn’t let herself look to her right because she doesn’t think she has the energy to pretend to ignore the snickers and grimaces from a few of the thirteenth-floor girls this morning.

Instead, Y/N rounds the corner and gets comfortable behind her desk. Her bag is tucked underneath it and her fingers make quick work of logging onto her computer and getting started for the day. Rhysand’s office is directly opposite her, thin windows either side of the tall door and from her seat, she can see his empty desk and a gorgeous view of the city.

It’s exactly 8 AM when Rhysand greets her with her morning coffee. He’s dressed in his usual slick black suit with a charming smile on those pink lips. Y/N would be lying if she said she’s never thought about her boss in more than a professional way. She’s thought about him in many different scenarios where he has her in many different positions.

“Good morning, Rhysand,” she greets him softly, a gentle smile on her plump lips.

That was another thing that took her a while to get the hang of. Rhys doesn’t like to be referred to by his last name. The first time she greeted him as such, he waved it off and insisted she called him Rhysand or Rhys.

It’s been months since she even thought of his last time… to the point where every time she sees it on some paperwork, she struggles to pair it with him.

Rhys takes his time every morning to admire her and her outfit of the day. He’s thoroughly pleased about the tight blouse and many open buttons at the top that offer the delicious view of the swell of her perky tits.

He averts his gaze with another charming grin, and can feel his trousers slowly begin to tighten as he places her coffee on her desk. “Morning, darling. How did you sleep?” he asks, always taking a few minutes out of his morning to make sure she feels okay and slept well the night before.

Rhysand’s never really known himself why he purposely goes out of his way to ask her these things. He doesn’t bother to do much with any other of his workers, nor his previous personal secretaries.

He tells himself it’s because she’s young and new, so he wants to make sure she feels as comfortable and as included as he can. But she’s only three years younger than him and she’s been working for him for over a year.

He needs to stop feeding himself that same bullshit excuse.

Y/N gleams a pretty smile and leans forward with her elbows on the desk, subsequently pressing her tits together deliciously. Rhysand licks his lips, eyeing up her chest before gazing back at her pretty smile again. But it doesn’t go unnoticed and it stirs something that oozes confidence inside her.

She tilts her head a little, a hint of something mischievous in her eyes but Rhys doesn’t notice. Figures she’s too innocent to catch on to his somewhat advances, but little does he know.

“Slept okay, it’s just really hot in my house lately… I need to speak with my landlord about getting a new AC fitted or I’ll be stuck sleeping naked until further notice,” she tells him through a seemingly innocent sigh, shrugging her shoulders and as hard as Rhysand tries to hide his bulging eyes, she catches them, along with the bulging in his pants.

He raises his brows in amusement and a lopsided grin pulls at the corners of his pink lips. He tilts his head like she did. “Do you only sleep naked when your air con is broken? Thought that’s something people living alone normally did? Freeing and all. I do it,” he shrugs his shoulders. He’s subtly prying, trying to learn if she still lives alone in that cutsey townhouse just twenty minutes away, or if she’s got a man on the scene.

He watches the apples of her cheeks twitch and he wonders if she’s imagining him sleeping naked. She is. He smirks to himself at the thought of what she must be mustering up in that pretty little head of hers.

It’s nothing new between the two; occasional flirting and topics that definitely should not be discussed between a boss and his secretary. He likes to watch her squirm and splutter and innocently reply in a way that has blood rushing to his cock.

He’s always observed her closely during these types of interactions, knows how to read her body language. He’s come to learn when she feels uncomfortable, and she’s never shown any signs of discomfort during said topics.

“And it would be freeing if I didn’t have a friend staying with me that often forgets to knock on my bedroom door before storming in,” she chuckles dryly, wondering if her words would rile him up or not.

She doesn’t know why they would.

She figures it’s all just harmless banter between the two; a little bit of flirtatious teasing to loosen them up when things get a little stressy. She’s dead certain someone as successful as him would never actually want anything romantic with his fucking assistant.

His brows raise higher than before, can feel his hand ball into tightly clenched fists and he clears his throat, gritting his teeth behind a hard smile. “Oh? You’ve got a friend staying with you?” he asks in a soft tone that doesn’t suggest he’s pissy that her friend gets to see her naked and between her sheets.

He wonders what else she does naked between the sheets in the dead of night when she can’t sleep.

She nods, soft hum verberating in her closed mouth as she types something quickly on her computer. “Yeah, he just broke up with his girlfriend so he’s staying at mine until he can get his stuff out and move into the new flat he’s found.” She watches him inhale a shaky breath through his flared nostrils and avert his gaze to the wall behind her.

She’s got a glimmer of a smirk on her lips, eyes light and playful but he doesn’t notice that. Rhysand’s too caught up with the newfound knowledge that it’s a male friend that’s walking in on her naked.

She wonders if he’s imagining her naked in bed… or maybe entertaining the idea of her fucking her friend one night when he walks in on her. She thinks that might be it but it doesn’t explain why he looks royally pissed… dare she say; jealous?

She tilts her head when he looks back down at her, jaw still set and he clears his throat, seemingly trying to cool himself down. His elbows are bent as his forearms rest on the top of his desk, his back arched just slightly.

“Not got anyone else he can stay with? What did they break up for?” he pushes further, hopes she’ll turn around and say it’s because he realised he’s gay. She doesn’t.

Instead, Y/N shrugs her shoulders and her elbow leans on the desk, her chin sitting in the palm of her hands as she gazes up at him leaning on the second level of her station.

“Things weren’t working, he didn’t wanna be tied down just yet. Wanted to have a bit of fun before settling.” She can see the gears in his head turn and tick away as he hums absentmindedly.

She tries not to squint at him, to gauge his reaction and decipher what the meaning behind his distant gaze is. She tries not to look too closely into his blushing cheeks and set jaw. She tries not to let herself fantasise about him being jealous and wanting her to himself. She tries, but it doesn’t work.

Rhysand hums, nodding as if he gets it and maybe he does. She knows all about his one night stands and sleepless nights at the strip clubs he frequents. She also knows about the countless booty calls that tend to frequent his office, only for him to ask her to call security to escort the women out.

And she absolutely should not find great joy in watching them huff as security links their beefy arms in their dainty ones, but she does.

Y/N thinks she keeps that secret to herself, but more times than not, Rhysand’s seen the hint of a smirk tug at the corner of her lips when he leans on the doorframe of his office. He knows she doesn’t notice him watching her, he likes knowing she thinks he doesn’t see things. He sees it all.

“Well hopefully he’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” he proposes and she has a sneaky suspicion that he’s subtly asking how long he’ll be staying with her. Which is exactly what he’s doing. Y/N hums again and shrugs her shoulders.

“Actually, I don’t mind him being there, I quite enjoy the company. Gets a bit lonely in the evenings sometimes, to be honest,” she baits.

She watches with a small smirk as Rhys inhales a deep and hollow breath, bowing his head a little so his chin almost rests against his black tie, his jaw knocking against his shirt collar. She doesn’t know where this sudden confidence is coming from. Can she even call it confidence? She isn’t flirting, just baiting him to gauge his reactions.

“Don’t fancy going out with your girlfriends?” He tries to steer away from the topic of other men in her life, but Y/N isn’t finished just yet.

“Sometimes, on the weekends, sure. But it gets a bit annoying when guys don’t know how to take a hint and keep trying to hit on you all night,” she sighs in fake annoyance and she’s certain she sees red flash through Rhysand’s eyes.

She lets herself think he’s jealous, protective. The thought of her boss thinking of her in a sexual manner and hating the idea of other men being in her home or hitting on her is exciting. It’s a thrilling rush of blood that causes tingles between her thighs and has her pressing them together beneath her desk.

Rhysand’s none the wiser. His fists clench at the image of another man dancing up her but his cock bloats at the thought of her dancing on a night out. No doubt in a short and tight dress. He knows tonight he’ll let himself think he can feel the swell of her ass rubbing against his crotch, let himself think he can taste her lips on his tongue.

He doesn’t say anything else and Y/N thinks he’s thoroughly fucked in his head. “Well, I’ve emailed over your schedule for the morning. Have a good day, Rhys.”

Through the rest of the morning, Rhysand struggles to focus on anything that isn’t her. He’s had two conference calls and for both video meetings from his office, he’s been leaned over in his chair with a strained neck, trying to catch sight of what she’s doing at her desk through the thin window in his door.

He was more than thankful when the calls ended because when she sat on her knees on her chair and leaned over the top of the desk, her tits almost spilled out of her blouse and Rhysand spent the rest of the hour sporting a rock hard boner.

He thinks she’s doing it on purpose when she comes into him after her lunch break. She’s taken her hair out of her ponytail and it falls in loose waves down her shoulders.

She enters his office with her hands full of paperwork that just so happen to stop beneath the swell of her breasts so they’re able to sit on the pile; all perky and swollen. She’s got a shy smirk on her lips, too. Like she knows she’s taking her end of the teasing a little further and she lets out a little huff of relief after she plops them onto his desk.

Rhys doesn’t try to hide his stare on her chest and she wonders if he catches her staring at the thick bulge in his pants. Neither parties say anything to the other but as their eyes meet, it’s like an unspoken understanding is pieced together.

A silent acknowledgement that they both know what the other is doing and that they’re more than okay with it. Like all lines between them are completely blurred and any boundaries are ready to be pushed aside.

He watches her hips sway as she leaves his office, closing the door behind her when she leaves. His neck cranes again as he leans to his side in his swivel chair, watching her type something on her computer through the window again.

Her brows are furrowed softly as she stands and rounds her desk, meeting his gaze through the thin glass and walking past his office completely. He tries to watch her but she disappears from his line of sight and an email pings through his laptop.

Y/N: Meet me in the copy room.

He’s leaping out of his chair before he can even push himself away from his desk. His strides are long and quick as he rips his office door open and slams it closed behind him. He clears his throat and avoids the gaze of his employees, ignores the ogling looks he earns from the women he knows touch themselves to the thought of him late at night.

Rhysand sneaks his way into the copy room, kicking the door closed behind him. She stands in front of him, leaning against the copier with a flirtatiously shy smile. He reaches blindly behind him and twists the lock, his bottom lip taut between his teeth as he ogles her shamelessly. She feels shy under his gaze, knowing he doesn’t care to hide how attracted he is to her.

She doesn’t have time to feel awkward or rake her brain for something to say because he’s rushing toward her and with both large hands caressing her cheeks, his lips are smearing against hers.

Y/N reaches up and tangles her fingers in his messily styled hair, twisting the curls and tugging softly. His hands leave her face in desperation as they pinch at her hips before rounding her body and squeezing deliciously at her ass.

She tastes like strawberries; her tongue swirling against his. His mind is swimming and all he wants to do is taste her little honey pot, wants to know if she tastes as sweet down there as she does on her tongue.

She’s no better. His tongue works skilfully against her, licking into her warm mouth and nibbling softly at her bottom lip. She can’t help but suckle filthily on his tongue, wishing to God she was on her knees as he fucks her mouth.

Both of their minds are hazy; like everything they feel is overwhelming and yet not enough all at once. Y/N feels the pulsing between her thighs, can feel her little lace panties soaking up her arousal and Rhysand’s cock is painfully hard in his pants—knows his tip is fucking leaking and no doubt a delicious purple shade.

“God, I‘ve been wanting to do this for so long,” he admits gruffly into her mouth, grabbing handfuls of her ass over her skirt but it’s too tight for him to spread her cheeks like he fucking needs to.

Y/N whimpers into his mouth and he hikes her up and onto the desk, just beside the copier machine. He rolls her skirt up her thighs until it’s bunched tightly around her waist. Her clothed pussy sits against the cold wood and she shudders, tugging him between her spread legs.

“Why didn’t you?” She breathes heavily into the kiss.

His hands are gripping at her thighs; the cool metal of his rings sending chills through her body and she’s desperately stripping him from his suit jacket. He groans, hands rushing back up to her face to cup her jaw while he struggles to fight against her to keep his jacket on.

He kisses her lips and pulls away, mind foggy but he wants to take his time with her, not have a quick fuck in the copy room and never again after that.

“Didn’t know if you wanted it, too,” he breathes, warm breath fanning across her lips and she reaches up blindly to kiss him again. Her eyes are hooded, lips swollen, and Rhysand’s fucked at the sight of her.

“I do want to, if it wasn’t already obvious,” she groans shyly, a heavy heat sitting on her cheeks and he chuckles, ego inflating as his cock pulses in his pants.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he promises and her eyes light up before she lets him finish his sentence. “But not here, not now. I want to take my time with you,” he rumbles through his chest, cupping her cheeks again and Y/N pouts breathlessly, her once confident demeanour slowly shifting and she feels a little small under his gaze.

“Fuck me now and take your time with me later,” she bargains, not even the slightest bit ashamed of how forward and desperate she’s letting herself seem.

He’s no better. The second the words slip from her lips, he’s kissing her again; harder than before. It’s desperate; needy and raw. His fingers are tugging her shirt down and her breasts spill over and out of her bra.

Y/N’s head falls back as he tweaks a taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting as he continues his assault down her lean neck. She’s letting breathy whimpers slip past her lips as her head rolls against her shoulder. Y/N scratches at his back, tugging off his suit jacket and he throws it across the boxed room.

Rhys dips his head from her neck, kissing across her clavicle and nipping at her collarbones. He massages hungry open-mouthed kisses across the swell of her tits, circling her pearled nipple with his skilled tongue and she shudders as he envelopes his lips around it, suckling softly and flicking his tongue.

“Rhys,” she breathes in a wanton pant.

He feels his cock bloat at the sound of his name slipping past her lips in a desperate whimper. Hearing her shudder his name as he latches on her nipple is something he didn’t know he needed to hear.

“Best tits I‘ve ever seen,” he mumbles as he pulls off her with a kiss to her areola, biting at her cleavage.

Y/N’s fingers are desperately fumbling with his tie, tugging it loose and popping open a few buttons. Rhysand doesn’t give her the time or chance to open more than two before he’s shoving her tiny lace panties to the side and swirling his middle finger through her dripping folds.

Rhys groans at the feel of her; soft and warm, completely fucking drenched. The tip of his finger teases at her hole, swirling around her soaked folds but she wants more, needs it. He seems to sense her desperation because, without a second longer of anticipation, he pushes his finger in and massages at her squishy walls.

He splutters pathetically against her chest, his grip on her hip tightening as he slowly pumps his digit in and out of her dripping heat.

“Oh shit, you’re so tight,” he groans, completely fucking mesmerised by the way her little pussy is clenching onto him.

He wonders if his cock will even fit. She shudders breathlessly, thighs willing to clench shut but he doesn’t let them.

His fingers are much longer than hers; hitting deeper than she’s ever able to in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. Her head falls back and Rhysand latches his lips onto her neck, pulling out so his fingertip rests at her hole before he lunges back in with a second digit.

They’re twisting in a ‘come hither’ motion, pads of his fingertips massaging at her squishy spot and she’s quivering and trembling under his touch. Her clit feels like it’s on fire, angry and desperate from the neglect it’s facing so she sneaks a hand between their bodies, holding her weight on one arm as she leans back, and offers herself a pinch of relief.

It’s a filthy fucking sight for Rhys to be privy to; watching her little fingers rub deliciously at her soaked, swollen clit. He’s painfully hard but fuck, he wants to see her cum all over his hand before he releases his bloated cock.

“Fuck, Rhysand… oh shit,” she’s gasping frantically, legs twitching and toes curling.

He can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since someone last touched her this good. He’s only had his hands on her for a couple of minutes and he can feel how close she is to her tipping point, how badly she needs to explode. He wonders if he’s about to make her cum harder than she ever has before.

She’s getting loud, too vocal for them to get away with the quick rendezvous they’re playing at. It’s when he tests the waters and scissors his fingers before picking up his pace that she falls uncontrollable with the desperate cries and filthy whines.

He has no other choice than to shove her until her back is pressed against the desk and he’s leaning over her trembling body to press a hand over her mouth.

Y/N’s muffled moans vibrate against his palm and he watches the delicious sight with a deep hunger in his eyes. His teeth are gritted, breaths and grunts seething between them at the sight of her tits bouncing across her chest.

“Cum, gonna cum!” he hears her muffled voice beg into his hand, a smug grin tugging helplessly at the corners of his lips and he coaxes it out of her.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Gonna cum all over my fingers like a good girl? My good girl?” he spurs her on, eyes rolling at the sensation of her tiny pussy spasming around his thick fingers and fuck, he’s sure he’s about to cum in his pants over it.

Y/N thrashes against the table, chasing her high as he finger fucks her through it. The sounds are obscene; muffled pleas and filthy squelching noises that sound from her messy cunt.

He slows his pace and lets her calm from her orgasm, nosing through her chest and he smears his parted lips across her tits, his tongue sitting on his bottom lip as he does so. Rhysand suckles gently on her pearled nipple as he moves his hand from her mouth and she’s tangling her fingers in his hair, deep breaths causing her chest to ripple.

Y/N’s eyes are fluttering, dazed and overwhelmed and they both know her legs are still trembling in the after-shock. She’s still desperate, though – inhibitions out the window and she no longer wants to play coy or hard to get. She wants his cock and she wants it shoved so deep inside of her that she won’t be able to walk for weeks.

“Please,” she murmurs through half-lidded eyes. Rhys’ brows furrow gently as he pulls off her chest, licking his lips and trying to chase her wanton gaze. When he finally does, he notices just how flushed and fucked she is. He’s a little taken back, if he’s honest. He knows the effect he has on women in the bedroom, but none quite like this for a quick fingerbang in the copy room.

Rhysand reaches for her face, cupping her jaw in his palm and she finally meets his eyes. She’s blinking back rose-tinted hues of arousal to try and see him clearer, but even when her vision isn’t stained with lust, he still looks ravishing and it’s painful.

“Please, what, Miss Y/L/N?” he teases.

Rhysand’s got a sick grin on his face at the way her entire body shudders at his tone and choice of words. She’s a whimpering mess again but he’s barely got his hands on her – one on her hip and the other cupping her jaw.

“Use your words,” he coaxes. Her lashes flutter angelically across her cheekbones and her lips blabber open and closed like a helpless fish out of water.

“Fuck, need you inside of me. Want your cock.” Y/N’s shuddering at her own choice of words. She’s always loved a bit of dirty talk but not once has it ever really come into play with past partners and if she’s honest, she feels way too shy and filthy. But she fucking loves it.

She loves the way he takes a deep breath – the way he growls to himself to try and fix his composure. She thinks he’s about to give into her, pound her raw and have her sobbing for more, baby, please, I need more! But what she gets is the complete opposite.

Rhysand’s lips hover over her ear, nosing at her neck on his way up before he’s nibbling his way across her jaw until his lips ghost hers.

“Not when you’re so fucked out, Princess. Let me come home with you tonight, back to your place. I’ll be your company,” he nips at her bottom lip, nosing at her jaw again and her head flutters back for a moment, eyes rolling.

“My place? But my – my friend is there…” she trails off breathlessly, struggling to keep her grip on reality when Rhys begins to suck a bruise against her neck.

He pulls away with a sly grin, eyes hooded and dark and her lashes flutter as she drinks him in. He reaches forward and nips at her bottom lip again. “I know.”

She’s nervous as she climbs into his car. He insisted he drive them home and back to work tomorrow morning, which means he plans on staying the night and Y/N is not opposed to that in the slightest.

But her nerves are getting the best of her when he reaches across the console and lets his hand rest on her thigh, squeezing generously and gnawing on his own bottom lip.

Her mind is working so hard on overdrive that she can’t even focus on one thing to worry about. Rhysand on the other hand, has one thing on his mind and one thing only. Her.

Excitement is rushing through his veins and he’s sure he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Blood is rushing to his thick cock and all he can think about is her sweet pussy and how it’ll taste when he has her sitting on his face; the only seat she’ll ever want and need.

They make it to her townhouse in no time and she’s clambering out of the car before he has the chance to switch the engine off. He knows she’s just as nervous as she is excited but he doesn’t say anything on the matter – at least, not yet.

He follows her up the steps to the door, arms shaking around her waist and he kisses across the exposed expanse of her neck, flicking his tongue over the fresh bruise that’s darkened as the day dwindled on.

Neither of them seem to care that it’s still partly daylight and wandering eyes are no doubt watching on with sickening glances and judgemental stares. Y/N struggles to unlock the front door, too busy trying not to roll her head back in pleasure and anticipation. She loosens up a little as he licks wet stripes up her neck, nibbling on the tender skin and the second the door is open, he’s pinning her against it as it slams shut behind them.

His mouth is on her neck, suckling and licking his way up to her jaw, nipping at the curved edge before he licks across the shell of her ear. “Gonna have you dripping on my cock and screaming in my mouth, Princess,” he promises. His tone is dirty, dark and raspy and Y/N’s thinks she’s ready to submit to absolutely anything he fucking wants.

She’s pathetic, really – nodding frantically – eager to please. She doesn’t make an effort to hurry them to her bedroom. She’s too caught in the moment Rhysand thinks he wants to have her friend catch her being fucked roughly against her front door, let him know she’s already being treated as good as it fucking gets.

“Please, Rhys. Need it so bad, please,” she blabbers wetly.

He kisses her quickly; hot and sticky. Their tongues are dancing a frantic rhythm but their lips still manage to mould and fit like puzzle pieces. Rhysand’s hands are hot on her waist, trailing up her body until he cups beneath the swell of her pretty tits.

“Please, what? What do you need, my love?” he coaxes, suckling on her bottom lip and she’s got half a mind to push him to his knees and hike her thighs over his shoulders. But she doesn’t have the will power or the guts and she’d much rather him dominate the absolute shit out of her.

His demeaning tone has her shaking – nimble fingers trying to tug and claw at the expensive blazer of his suit. She doesn’t know if it excites or frustrates him, but it does spur him on to tear her pretty blouse open and rip her bra in two.

He ignores her shriek of shock and latches his wet mouth to her tit, sucking her hardened nipple between his lips and rolling his tongue across it.

Y/N’s head rolls back and knocks against the front door, wanton whimpers and yelps shrieking from her throat. Rhysand spares no expense – he’s grunting and moaning, coursing vibrations and shrills through her body that has her pulsing core blazing. She feels like she’s on fire and Rhysand feels like a starving man that’s finally about to eat a three course meal.

First, he’ll make her cum with his fingers. Then with his cock. And for dessert, he’ll have her on his face while he laps up everything else she has to offer. But Rhys doesn’t take into consideration that maybe she wants to taste him, too.

“Need your cock in my mouth.”

The filthy admission takes him back and for a split second, he’s stunned. Rhys halts his attack on her chest and leans back to get a proper look at her. Y/N’s eyes are blazing a fiery red, one that screams need and touch. She’s fucked, utterly. Messy hair and smeared lip gloss across the lower half of her face.

His own eyes are hooded as he watches her very slowly slide down the door. Her knees are bending and he knows what’s coming, what she’s trying to do. Rhysand has half a mind to stop her, to remind her who’s in charge and that he just wants to taste her, to make her feel good.

The other half tells him to tear out her hair band and hold her hair and head in place with his fist, tells him to let her stuff her mouth with his length by the front door and pray and hope her friend just so happens to be home.

Her shaky hands are unbuckling his belt, tugging down his zipper. Her knees hit the entrance carpet and she reaches back behind her to tug her hair completely loose from her elastic. Rhysand watches, chin meeting his chest, as she massages out the kinks before throwing it over her shoulder.

He can’t stop staring at her as she tugs his pants down just enough to palm over the thick and hard bulge in his boxers. He makes no effort to bite back a grunt and the soft whine that follows. Rhys’ eyes are on her but she’s got her gaze focussed on his clothed cock.

Y/N leans forward, nosing at his thick length. Her mouth is parted; bottom lip dragging a wet strip across the expensive, cotton material as she makes her way up for the little strip of thin hairs that dust down to his sweet spot. When she gets to the top of the elastic, her tongue slips from her mouth and a bold, wet stripe is licked fatly up to his bellybutton.

She feels him shudder, hands on the fronts of his thighs and they creep up to the waistband of his boxers. Rhysand’s got one hand tangled in her hair, blunt nails scratching at her scalp and the other is leaning against her front door, supporting his crushing weight up.

“Are you gonna take all of me, baby?” he coaxes.

Spit begins to well in her mouth as she tugs his boxers down and she’s finally face to face with her boss’ thick, long cock. He’s massive, that much she’s certain of and the way his tip glistens an angry pink proves he’s just as eager as she is. She wonders if he’s been as hard since the copy room earlier today.

Rhysand’s tugging at her hair, trying to get her to focus on the situation at hand rather than ogling at his cock. He usually wouldn’t mind, but right now he’s far too desperate to be lodged down her warm throat to think about anything else. His cock twitches as it slaps at his lower abdomen, leaving damp trails of precum in his tip’s wake.

It’s standing tall when Y/N leans forward on her knees. She’s got her palms bracing her weight on his thick thighs and her tongue sits on her bottom lip, licking a bold and wide strip up the entire eight inches of his thick length. Rhysand’s grunting when her tongue swirls around his head before she’s suckling the soft flesh into her mouth.

Her cheeks are softly hollowed and gentle hums of approval sound around him at the salty taste that sits heady on her tongue. Her lips are stretched around his puffy head, the actual width of him nearly choking her but fuck, if she doesn’t love it with every ounce of her dirty little soul.

She’s got those innocent doe eyes staring up at him while she suckles on his length. Relaxing her throat to take him a little deeper, Y/N pumps in a firm fist what she can’t fit; twisting her wrist.

Rhys can’t keep his fucking eyes off her – puffy lips swollen and stretched and if he sees another dribble of saliva drip from her lips and down the valley of her tits, he’s gonna cum straight down her throat.

“Fuck, such a good mouth. So fucking good, Princess,” he goads.

He’s gnawing hard on his bottom lip, mouth salivating at the sight of his pretty little secretary on her knees with her mouth stuffed with his cock. Rhysand can’t help his ego from inflating when she lets him guide his hips until he hits the back of her throat, choking her lightly and she splutters around his length.

It’s filthy – the noises her mouth and his cock are making – but Rhysand’s living for it. Pools and dribbles of saliva and precum are spilling and bubbling from the corners of her mouth and the swells of her tits are soaked from it alone. She’s comfy on her knees now and takes her free hand from his thigh to tug his pants and boxers down further.

She’s picked up her pace, sucking harder and fisting the few inches she can’t take. Y/N’s hand snakes further down and reaches around a little until she’s cupping and massaging his aching balls, coaxing the release she knows he’s about to give her. His taste is getting saltier on her tongue and his hips are staggering with each gentle thrust he offers into her throat.

Rhys’ grip on her hair is hard and tight, knuckles bumping at her skull as he tries to drill her head closer to him, to force more of him down her throat. As much as she tries to relax herself, she can’t take him all and she wants nothing more than to bury her nose in the short hairs that lead from his bellybutton to his shaft.

“Such a good girl for me. Sucking me so fucking well, gonna cum,” he warns and praises the young woman and she comes off him with a frantic gasp.

Her eyes are watering and his cock is soaked, but that doesn’t stop her from spitting the rest of his arousal on his length and pumping him as quickly as she can.

She’s got that confidence about her again as she focuses on his tip, fisting both hands around his throbbing cock as she smears her swollen lips across his sensitive head. She smacks it against her tongue, offering hollow sucks to guide him over the edge.

Rhys’ got his forehead resting against the door and he’s grunting and groaning, biting back animalistic moans. He can’t wrap his head around it, the most sloppy and incredible blowjob he’s ever had.

“Wanna taste it. Cum, Rhysand,” she whines greedily, one hand leaving his cock to tear her blouse open just enough for her tits to spill out of it. “Cum all over my tits, baby.”

His orgasm washes over him with a heady grunt and hot spurts of white ribbons that smother her tits perfectly. She’s standing on her knees, using the tip of his aching cock as a paintbrush to smear his cum across her lustful chest. He’s smashing his head against the door, trying to blink away the orgasmic-bliss he’s been thrown in and take a grip of reality again.

When he finally looks down at her, stepping back a little from the door, he’s panting and twitching and she’s licking her lips clean. Y/N’s got that innocent sparkle sitting in her eyes again. Rhysand has to shake his head and let out an exasperated laugh. He’s smoothing down her tangled and matted hair and guiding her back to her feet.

“So fucking sexy,” he groans when he takes note of her cum-smothered tits.

His lips are smearing against hers greedily, and there’s something so exciting and erotic about tasting himself on her sweet tongue. Her hands are soaked and sticky but she still tangles them in his hair to kiss him harder.

She’s too fucking horny to feel shy or embarrassed about what she’s just done against her front door. “Gonna fuck me now? Thought you promised me you’d fuck me with your cock?” she whispers tauntingly against his lips and he grins, still completely fucked out.

Even though he’s painfully hard again, he doesn’t have it in him to sheath himself in her tight little cunt just yet. He’s got stamina, but his poor cock can’t recover from a blinding orgasm like that too quickly. He nods, hands on her ass and he’s groping like a starved man.

“And I will, Princess. But you got a taste of me, it’s only fair I get a taste of you, don’t you think?” he teases.

She’s putty in his hands, though – nodding breathlessly as her nose bumps his. She can feel his hard cock against her middle and he gives her pert ass a spank, enticing a high whine from her raw lips.

“Suppose you better show me to your room then, my love… unless you want your friend to come and watch?” he offers, like he wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest.

If Rhysand’s honest, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d gladly let her friend watch him absolutely ruin her tight cunt.

“Put your cock in your pants,” she breathes, the firm order doing nothing but coaxing dribbles of precum from his dick. He shoves himself back in his boxers but makes no attempt to button up his trousers while she covers her chest again.

Y/N’s got her hand in his as she leads him up the steps of her townhouse, hips swaying more than usual and Rhysand knows, but he’s too horny to tease her for it. All he can think about is having that ass sat on his face and he’s salivating at the thought of her taste.

He doesn’t take in the decor on the walls or the frilly rug on the floor of the hall. He doesn’t even take in the style of her bedroom when she shoves him inside and kicks the door closed. Rhysand, instead, is too busy tearing her blouse open and ignoring the buttons skidding across her oak floors.

She’s no better, eager to get him naked and claw at his tattooed chest. They’re both naked in seconds, hands all over the other in a desperate attempt to get off. She’s guiding him to her bed, tits in his face and he paws at her breasts as she straddles his lap. She expects him to pin her down, to devour her little cunt but he doesn’t.

He kisses her lips and grips her thighs – laying on his back with his head on her pillow and tugging her up his body and she starts to get the hint when she stops on his chest. Rhysand’s frowning, kneading at her thighs and jutting his chin in the air a little.

“Told you I wanted a taste, now come and sit on your throne, Princess.” She’s giddy with excitement and arousal, head cloudy and she lets him guide her up the rest of his body.

Her entire pussy is slick and swollen when her knees rest either side of his head. He loops his arms around her legs and rests his hands on her ass, squeezing and massaging her cheeks.

“Fucking look at you, baby. So wet and so soft,” he coos, craning his head up to suck bruises on her thighs. Y/N’s got her fingers tangled in his messy dark locks and when he spreads her ass apart, she falls a little and her soaked cunt sits on his face.

Rhysand’s mouth wastes no time, sucking and licking and nibbling at her hole and clit. He’s swirling wet strokes through her folds, deep and long. Her sweet scent is heavy on his tongue and he’s got his eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss. Y/N is a mess above him – head thrown back and fingers tugging at his unruly locks.

“Oh my God,” she whines, breathing erratically but Rhysand’s having the time of his life.

She shudders as he brings a hand down on her ass, her meaty flesh jiggling before he’s grabbing it again and pulling her apart and further up his face. He’s got a knot in his brow, tongue circling at her weeping hole and he can’t get enough of her taste.

“So good, so fucking good. Don’t stop,” she begs, desperate and eager.

Rhys lets his tongue trail up the length of her pussy until the flatness of his tongue is rubbing at her swollen clit, enticing moan after filthy moan to slip from her silky tongue. He wraps his mouth around her little nub, sucking and nibbling and she’s seeing stars.

Y/N can’t seem to catch her breath and she’s rolling her hips on his face like she fucking owns him. Rhysand comes off her clit with a little pop, open-mouthed kisses smeared over her dripping cunt and he sucks a swollen lip into his mouth, biting teasingly and she gasps into the dim room.

Her nipples have puckered in the cool air and one hand leaves his head to tweak and pinch at one of the neglected nubs. She’s trembling on his face, thighs clenching around his head as he kneads and spanks at her ass. Rhysand’s grunting deliciously into her cunt, sending vibrations through the woman’s core and egging her on.

He knows she’s close, knew he wouldn’t have to be between her thighs for too long after she came so quickly from his fingers earlier in the copy room, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t gladly spend hours devouring her. She’s sweet – sweeter than he hoped and expected – and it’s better than any feeling he’s ever had before. Sweet like watermelon with a tangy hint.

It’s fucking intoxicating and when she cums, it only tastes better. “I’m cuming, oh shit, oh God…” Y/N can’t think straight.

Her vision is blinding by streaking light that blocks her sight and the wanton and borderline pornographic moans are music to Rhysand’s ears. She’s shaking, body jolting and when Rhys opens his eyes to watch her unravel on his tongue, all he sees is her head rolling back and the underswell of her tits bouncing before her back coils and she hunches into herself.

He’s lapping her of every single last drop she has, desperate to have her taste lingering on his tongue for as long as he possibly can. His cock is overly bloated and sticky as precum sticks to his lower abdomen but maybe his ego is even more bloated, knowing he didn’t even have to use his fingers to get her quivering and begging above him.

“Fuck,” she gasps in a slow drawl.

Her voice is deep and raspy, like she’s seething as she tries to catch her breath and stop the shakes from taking over in her post-orgasmic state. Rhysand’s kitten licking her softly, moving his head to bite playfully at the thickness of her inner thighs and he traces over a soft, faded stretch mark with his tongue.

“Sweetest fucking pussy I‘ve ever tasted,” he groans in approval.

Rhys maneuvers them both so she’s pressed against the mattress, and even in her fucked-out, overly-blissed state, she’s still whining and eager for his cock again. She’s insatiable and Rhysand can’t help the amused chuckle that slips from his lips.

“So fucking desperate, Princess,” he taunts.

He takes a moment to admire her, take her all in. Her pussy is swollen, soaked still and he can almost see her clit pulsing as her hole clenches. Her chest is rattling in deep breaths and her eyes are lidded heavily as she creeps her foot up his thigh, reaching for his hard cock.

He hums appreciatively, spreading her bent knees open and crawling between her legs again. He’s got a hand resting by her head to support his weight – the other gripping her chin in his hold and he forces her mouth open as he lets saliva well in his mouth.

She gets the hint, knows what he’s about to do and she’s desperate to get a taste of herself from him. Y/N’s tongue falls out flat on her bottom lip, eyes a little wider and she holds his firm gaze when he spits on her tongue and forces her mouth closed again.

The sweetness of her arousal is heavy in her mouth and she swallows what he offered before her lips part again and her tongue is licking up at his stubbly chin, reaching for his lips.

Rhysand’s eyes are blazing, dick twitching against her thigh and he kisses her hard, teeth clashing and tongues dancing an uncoordinated rhythm, but it works. Y/N suckles on his tongue as he groans, pinching at her nipple before he reaches down to palm his cock some.

“Need to get a condom,” he breathes into her mouth but she’s shaking her head. He leaves his cock and reaches for her cunt, attending to her fiery clit that’s far too sensitive but she welcomes the touch, nonetheless.

“Wanna feel you,” she admits, no shame in the embarrassingly desperate statement and Rhysand thinks he’s about to fucking explode on her cunt before he even gets a proper feel of it.

He wants to, needs to feel her slick and velvety walls hug and suck him in, wants to be consumed by her heat and arousal but even in his lust-filled state, his brain is still turned on. He shakes his head painfully.

“Next time,” he offers, doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s eyes light up at the insinuation but she nods with a desperate, laboured breath.

She reaches to her side for her nightstand, retrieving a foil packet from the top drawer and she rips it open with her teeth before Rhysand can take it from her. His eyes are wide when she tugs it from the packaging and reaches down for his cock. She pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it over his thick head, sliding it slick down his shaft and he’s grunting in pleasure over the act.

“Fuck. You’re so sexy,” he mutters gruffly against her lips and she whimpers, eyes rolling back at the sheer tone of his voice. Her legs are spread wide as he reaches for his cock and rubs himself up and down her folds a few times.

Y/N’s giddy with excitement, pussy clenching in anticipation and he slowly rolls his hips forward, his fat tip nudging through the tight entrance ring of her pussy and she shudders a gentle shriek at the obvious intrusion.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps out.

Her chest is already heaving when he begins to sheath himself in, spreading her wide and drilling in deep. Y/N’s eyes have rolled to the back of her head and her toes have curled inwardly and just how much he’s filling her up.

Rhysand’s no better – teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut. His grip on her hips have his knuckles turning white but neither of them seem to mind the bruises that’ll be apparent in the morning. She’s tight around him, warm and slick and even with the condom, he can feel every pulse her pussy offers.

Rhys rolls his hips slowly, getting her used to his thick girth and generous length. Y/N’s clawing at his shoulders with each soft whine until his pace begins to pick up and the bed starts to rock. Her tits are bouncing on her chest, nipples hard and desperate for a good sucking.

He manoeuvres his body to lean his head down, biting on her hard nub and sucking. “Shit, you’re so fucking big, oh my God,” she praises through a strangled moan. He’s snapping his hips, grunting and smirking against her slobbery tits.

His tongue is flicking over her nipple in quick strokes as his teeth bite softly but she’s keening at the blissful shoots of pain.

“Tight pussy, baby. Tightest fucking pussy I‘ve ever had.” He pops off her breast and smears his lips against hers.

She can still taste him on her tongue and the feel of his lips on hers is overwhelming. His thick cock is brushing against all the good spots and she can’t wrap her head around how sex could ever feel this good.

“Faster, please, faster. Just like that,” she begs out through another broken moan. He’s seething through gritted teeth as he wills back his animalistic grunts, drills his hips in quicker thrusts and the wet squelches of his cock and her pussy is music to both of their ears.

“Hear that? Hear how fucking wet you are?” he teases, leaning back and shuffling until he’s on his knees between her quaking thighs. “Fuck, you fit me so fucking good, Princess.” He’s gnawing down on his bottom lip, likely drawing blood but he can’t bring himself to care.

Y/N’s got her head thrown back in her pillows, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her lashes flutter like angel wings. “This cunt was fucking made for me,” he growls through gritted teeth as he releases his lower lip. She’s nodding helplessly at his words, crying out in pure ecstasy at the filth he’s talking and she fucking loves it.

“All yours, Rhys. Pussy’s all yours,” she agrees quickly.

Her voice is broken, high pitched and whiney. Rhysand thinks it’s borderline pornographic and it only makes his cock throb in her cunt. “Fuck,” he seethes, watching the way her full breasts bounce on her chest.

He lets his gaze avert to where they meet – where his thick cock is drilling into her cunt and fucking her into the mattress. He’s completely slick with every thrust that has his dick pulling out of her. His balls are slapping against her ass, slick with her wetness that leaks from her tight hole and even both their thighs are growing sticky from her arousal and their sweat.

Between them, they’re eager messes, desperate for a hot release and it’s haunting the both of them. Rhysand can feel her cunt clench tenderly around him and Y/N can feel his cock twitching between her soft walls.

“Fuck, can feel you squeezing me baby, making you feel good, Princess?” He knows he’s making her feel fucking heavenly but the narcassist in him needs to hear that bit of praise.

She’s nodding frantically, eager to give him what he wants to hear. “Yes, fuck, yes! So good, Rhys. I love your cock, makes me feel so fucking full.” She’s moaning through every word, sentence broken by wanton cries and pornographic whines. She’s fucking filthy, dribble running down the corners of her lips as she speaks.

Rhysand’s fucked, can feel his release toppling close to the edge but he needs to feel her cum around him first. “Yeah? You like me buried in your tight little cunt, my love? Like feeling me in your fucking tummy?” He sets a firm palm across her stomach, adding just enough pressure to feel himself nudge at her lower abdomen and his head is spinning.

“More, please. I’m gonna fucking cum, Rhys. Make me cum on your cock, make me cum, please.” She’s begging through desperate tears and Rhysand’s ego is through the fucking roof. His eyes are rolling back at the sound of her broken pleads and he leans closer.

He’s got one hand holding his weight by her head, the other locking around her throat. He watches for a moment, still pounding into her, to see if she tells him to stop, tells him she doesn’t like that. But she reaches up and tightens his hold on her throat and her other hand snakes between them to rub feverishly at her swollen clit.

“Harder,” she demands, voice steady and dark and there’s a primal instinct that washes over Rhysand that tells him to fucking obliterate her. He’s choking her as his cock tears into her, weeping in the condom and Y/N’s sobbing beneath him.

Her thighs begin to tremble, eyes rolled right back and she feels like she’s floating. “I’m cuming! Rhys, I’m gonna cum!” Her body convulses under his touch and waves of bliss roll over her. She’s cumming around his cock, shaking and sobbing and whining like a dirty little girl and Rhysand’s living for it.

He fucks her through her state of bliss, grip still tight on her throat until he feels her calm down and he’s ready to explode. Even in her blissed out state, Y/N knows what she wants. She suckles on his thumb as he grips her jaw and takes her spare hand to push him back just enough to pull his cock out of her cunt.

With hooded eyes and swollen lips, she peels off the condom and tosses it to the side. Rhysand’s eyes are blown wide, brows knitted and even in her hazy state she can see how desperate his cock is for a relief.

He’s hissing when she wraps a hand around his wet length and lazily starts pumping his shaft. “If you can’t come in my pussy, I want your cum all over it.” His head falls back at the admission, cock twitching in her hand and it only takes a few futile pumps before she’s smearing his tip across her swollen clit and he’s cumming.

Hot ribbons of clear-ish cum paint her cunt, spilling across her folds and clit in desperate spurts. “Fuck, oh shit. So good, such a good fucking girl,” he’s praising in broken moans and wanton whines.

Y/N’s pussy clenches around nothing as she watches his thick cock slowly soften to one of a slightly smaller size. They’re both fucked out as Rhysand catches his breath and falls to her side, panting and heaving with a sweaty and heavy chest.

She can barely keep her eyes open, thighs still trembling from her post-orgasmic state and Rhysand’s trying to come to terms with what just happened. He’s too infatuated to scold himself for fucking a damn employee. For fucking his secretary.

He can hear her heavy breathing from beside her and he peeks a look, watching her eyes flutter as she stares up at her ceiling. He holds his breath in hopes of hearing any movement on the other side of the bedroom door but all he can hear is his heart hammering through his body.

He takes a heaving breath and looks back up at the ceiling. “You think your friend might’ve heard us?” He speaks up, breaking the silence. He hears her breath stagger and silence before she lets out an uneven sigh and he can feel her chest shaking.

Rhysand turns to her with pinched brows and she’s grinning with eyes squinted shut. “What? What are you laughing at?” She’s giggling again and Rhys sits up to get a better look at her. She’s thoroughly fucked out.

“I don’t have a friend staying with me,” she admits shyly through a broken laugh and it takes Rhysand a hot second to grasp onto what she’s just said. When he does, his eyes widen and jaw falls slack, smirk tugging on the corners of his parted lips.

Y/N turns to him, running a hand through his matted hair and she gnaws on her bottom lip, staring into his fucked out eyes. “Just wanted to try and get you in my bed,” she confesses.

They’re both grinning; Y/N letting out a squealed shriek as Rhysand pounces on top of her and pins her hands above her head, nosing and biting at her jaw and neck. His eyes are gleaming nothing but mischief as his nose knocks hers and he notices the fire in her eyes.

He nips at her lips. “You lied to me? To get me in your bed like I‘m some sort of cheap hooker?” He’s teasing her now and the banter has her stomach flipping. Y/N shrugs, feigning nonchalance, eyes blazing and she licks into his mouth.

“Worked though, didn’t it?”

Rhysand pulls away from her lips just enough to see the look on her face. She’s shy under his gaze, innocent eyes staring up at him but there’s still that flash of filth and cheekiness that’s loitering behind them and when she gnaws on her bottom lip, Rhysand can’t help but feel completely fucked.

“You little minx.”

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starryylies · 8 months

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Omg 141 with touch-starved gf that just gets turned on from every little thing they do cause she's not used to it. Been heavy on my mind

TF-141 with touch starved reader

Hiiii sososo sorry for replying late, everything is getting postponed cuz of work :((((

I hope you enjoy this anon! Thank you so much for the awesome request, I love it!!

PRICE-

ꨄ︎ loves it loves it lovesssss itttttt

ꨄ︎ thinks you’re like a cat who actually loves cuddles but acts like she doesn’t

ꨄ︎ calls you his kitty

ꨄ︎ loves patting your head and calling you his “good kitty”

ꨄ︎ loves how he’s the only one who’s seen how touch starved you are

ꨄ︎ lives for the reaction you have for when he even touches you slightly making body stiffen and your thighs clench from arousal.

ꨄ︎ will keep his hand on your thigh in public all to make sure you behave when others are around

ꨄ︎ loves teasing And welll taming you

ꨄ︎ thinks it’s adorable how you get all whiny when you’re turned on by his teasing.

ꨄ︎ but how can he stop when you look so pretty trying to hide your arousal

ꨄ︎ would make sure nobody finds out though, not because it’s embarrassing but because he doesn’t want anyone else to get the wrong idea and mess with you

ꨄ︎ will make you hump his legs when he’s busy

ꨄ︎ Loves how desperate you are when turned on :(

ꨄ︎ “use your words princess, you want me? my what exactly? Say it”

ꨄ︎ “bad fuckin’ kitty making me fuck you in the neighbors bathroom all cus youre a wet fuckin’ mess”

SIMON-

ꨄ︎ it takes time for him to get adjusted in the beginning

ꨄ︎ ar first he found it a bit overwhelming since he’s had terrible experiences in the past but as you guys go on with the relationship he slowly finds it comforting.

ꨄ︎ has a low sex drive in the beginning but will try his best to please you,

ꨄ︎ so in the beginning he started off by kisses here and there till he gets used to it more.

ꨄ︎ likes how you cling onto him as a koala :)

ꨄ︎ is very touch starved in the beginning but feels awkward about it

ꨄ︎ sometimes felt inadequate but those feelings are lost when he’s fucking you till you’re a babbling mess moaning into the pillow case. :)

ꨄ︎ slowly as your relationship deepens I believe his sex drive will increase greatly and now he’d be more comfortable being clingy and touch starved

ꨄ︎ would make sure you’re well satisfied especially during the days you ovulate

ꨄ︎ you both are like each others cuddly cats ₍˄·͈ ‧̫ ·͈˄₎

ꨄ︎ loves the way you whine under his touch

ꨄ︎ loves giving you kisses whenever he can in the house.

ꨄ︎ very protective and will make sure nobody takes advantage of you

ꨄ︎ loves the way your pussy clenches on him when you’re under him.

ꨄ︎ swears he will cum fast if you continue squeezing his cock so hard,

ꨄ︎”ugh fuckin’ hell princess not so right, gonna’ Milk me dry righ’ here love fuckk”

SOAP-

ꨄ︎ oh this man is a menace, will purposely tease you

ꨄ︎ he loves how you squirm when he tries kissing you

ꨄ︎ loves how you visibly gasp when his hand brushes against you

ꨄ︎ loves keeping his hands on your waist

ꨄ︎ will make sure you’re always satisfied, you’re still horny after one round? Let’s go again

ꨄ︎ will purposely make you sit closer to him when you guys are out teasing you by slowly moving his hand from your knees to your inner thighs~

ꨄ︎ kisses you so much, loves how audible whimpers escape your mouth when you’re on his lap and are making out

ꨄ︎ thinks you’re so cute when you tug onto him :))

ꨄ︎ loves the way you melt underneath his touch

ꨄ︎ is quick to notice when you’re frustrated and needy for him

ꨄ︎ he will pretty much fuck you like he hasn’t fucked in a year because god he lives for the little sounds and reactions you make.

ꨄ︎ pats your head too!

ꨄ︎ likes giving you massages :)

ꨄ︎ the massages lead to you pinned underneath him while his hands are gripping the bed while he pounds you till his balls are drained

ꨄ︎ “fuck Bonnie lookin’ so messy under me. you’re fuckin’ droolin, takin me in so good.”

GAZ-

ꨄ︎ biggest menace here, makes sure you’re always hot and bothered with him

ꨄ︎ oh god this man cannot keep his hands off of you

ꨄ︎ he will never ever get his hands off (until you say so ofc) but his hands will always be somewhere on your body caressing you

ꨄ︎ makes sure you get turned on when you guys are out

ꨄ︎ loves the quickies that happen when you both are out cuz you goy turned on cuz of him

ꨄ︎ thinks you’re an adorable mess when you’re horny

ꨄ︎ will buy a small panty vibrator for when he’s deployed

ꨄ︎ will turn it on any time he pleases so you don’t feel lonely when he’s gone :((

ꨄ︎ asks you to tell him in detail about what you did with yourself when he’s deployed

ꨄ︎ loves coming home from deployment finding you so needy and hot, climbing on top him the second he comes back

ꨄ︎ will probably try out many ways to tease you more

ꨄ︎ holds your hand or keeps his hand on your waist wherever you guys go.

ꨄ︎ If you’re ticklish he will definitely tickle you there whenever you feel low or anything.

ꨄ︎ loves taking care of you and loves when you cling onto him.

ꨄ︎ loves how sensitive you get when you guys are fucking but will ask you over and over again to see if he’s not crossing any limits.

ꨄ︎ “ya likin’ it babe? You like it when I come home only to catch ya playin’ with yourself? Couldn’t even wait for me could ya?”

ꨄ︎ “Yeahh fuck takin me so good, don’t squirm baby m right here, If it gets too much tell me okay?”

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ropes3amthoughts · 2 months

Text

I’m going insane right now. I can’t stop thinking about Kabru and I can’t express my feelings well enough in any amount of words or pictures or emojis or anything. I want to analyze every single moment of his, every single thing he says and does, but it wouldn’t be enough. There is no way I could ever convey everything I think about him.

I’m going so fucking nuts right now you guys. He makes me want to stim and pull my hair out and walk in circles and kick my legs and giggle and bite my hands and twirl my hair and write one million words about him and draw a million drawings of him and paint him like a holy medieval oil painting and talk about him to anybody who listens and throw up and write his name all over my skin and save ten thousand pictures of him to my phone and carve his face into a rock and cry and just everything he makes me feel almost everything I could possibly feel it’s so overwhelming I’m not normal about him at all and I need to say something about him I feel like I’m going to explode he drives me crazy I love him deeply

He’s like a bug to me I want to put him in a little glass jar and feed him pieces of vegetables and berries and maybe little bits of my own meals and observe him closely and take little notes in my notepad about his habits and food preferences and I’d have a little light focused on him so I can watch him closely but turn it off at night time so he can sleep and then I’d take him out of the jar and set him on my counter and I’d tell him sit still while I open up a sketchbook and draw him with the fervor of a religious artist who’s seen the face of a god or a scientist who’s been ignored for the past twenty years and has discovered an entirely new species and is thinking this is the chance to finally prove themselves and I would sketch away like my life depends on it and I would fill every single page with his face and his whole body and every bit of how he looks and then eventually my hands would cramp up so bad I’d have to stop and I’d set the sketchbook down next to my notepad and together it would have every single detail to him as if it were a scan from his mind

Can we please talk about Kabru more? Can we please talk about every single one of his scenes? Can we please talk about his motivations? His goals? The way he sees others? The way he sees himself? Can we talk about the scene where he kills those corpse guys from a deep analytical view other than “wow he’s crazy he killed those guys” because it’s much more complex than that and he killed them because he saw them as bad people who were unforgivable and deserving of death and then right after he said his party couldn’t steal their money despite the fact the corpse guys stole from them first and he’s not a “two rights make a wrong” type of guy or a revenge seeker and he is instead a “justice must be achieved no matter what” type of guy? Because he’s determined to reach his goals no matter what, like with eating the harpy eggs? Can we talk about how he thinks bad people deserve to die and how at one point he thinks he deserves to die? Can we talk about how it seems like he’s a people pleaser because he does anything to get people to like him, but it’s not because he wants people to like him, it’s because he wants to use those people to further his goals, but he doesn’t have sinister goals, and by using others, he hopes to reach his goal of helping humanity? Can we talk about the fact he uses himself as a tool to use others to help others? Can we talk about how he is not very good at connecting with others or himself deeply? Sure he can talk to others and convince them of things, but he has a mask, he hardly lets the true him slip, he hardly lets himself be truly known. Can we talk about how Kabru clearly has not allowed himself to process his grief and trauma from Utaya but still throws himself into the dungeon and faces monsters constantly because he wants to help humanity and he sees himself as expendable when it comes to benefiting humanity and how it clearly fucks him up but he shoves it down and ignores it because he thinks there are more important things to worry about than himself? Can we talk about how Kabru’s ambitious goals are a means to cope with his survivor’s guilt and how he thinks the only reason he survived the Utaya tragedy was so he could protect humanity from anything like that from happening again, how it’s a way to try and justify why he deserved to live, when it seems clear he doesn’t think he deserves it? Eating is the privilege of the living, but Kabru is rarely shown eating, often forgetting to eat or eating things he finds gross. Maybe he doesn’t think he deserves that privilege, like he doesn’t think he deserves life. Maybe eating is something that keeps him alive, but it’s often disappointing and something he wants to avoid. He cares so little for himself! There’s his messy room, his disregard for his own feelings, his lack of eating, him drinking to deal with insomnia, etc. but when it comes to others he cares so deeply. He’s so selfless! He doesn’t care for himself and he loves humanity deeply! He has so many different things he wants to do! The story literally couldn’t have happened without his actions. He’s such an interesting guy!

I know it’s fun to put him in little fanon situations and people have probably analyzed all there is to analyze but could we talk about it again even if we aren’t professional analyzers and it’s all been done before just because it’s interesting and fun and he’s such a neat guy and it’s fun to talk about him at least for me when I talk about him it makes my heart start racing and my throat get tight like I can’t breathe and I start stimming and feeling giddy and it doesn’t have to be that way for you but can we talk about him even if it’s something as simple and surface level as “Kabru cool 👍” I know a lot of the anime onlys don’t know that much about him and are missing so much of his character and his arc and his backstory and all that so it’s hard to talk about him but I’m sure at least one other person has read the manga and is like “wow! I love this Kabru guy!” Because that’s how I feel except it’s more like “I love this Kabru guy so much I feel like my head is about to fucking explode” so maybe could we please talk about him more maybe draw him more maybe write about him more maybe he could get some neat little focuses here and there maybe he could have a nice time in fanart and fanfic and maybe someone could say something really cool about him maybe someone could hit me up as an anon and be like “I really like when Kabru did this” and I could be like “HOLY SHIT YES THANK YOU FOR SAYING THIS ANON I LOVE YOU YES” that could be us for real

I feel like I’m gonna start shaking and throw up I love him so much do any of you guys get me I feel like pulling off my skin I think about him like 1-17 times every hour he is on my mind I was eating dinner and I was so distracted because I was thinking about the scene where the dungeon could’ve been conquered by the Canaries but Kabru doesn’t want one race to hold all the power so he holds Mithrun hostage and demands answers and when they don’t answer him he states that short lived races will conquer the dungeon and then he falls into the hole holding onto Mithrun fully prepared to kill the both of them if it meant Laios could conquer the dungeon and the island could be controlled by short lived races because he thinks that would be better for humanity the dungeon could’ve been conquered and sealed off right then and there and Kabru wanted the dungeon sealed off he wanted the monsters gone but he wanted more than that he wants power divided up between the races he wants short lived races to be taken seriously he thinks it’s impossible for them to see eye to eye but he wants short lived races to have some power he wants it to better humanity over all he doesn’t want to do what’s easy he wants to do what he thinks is right and he is willing to do a lot in order to achieve that he’s so ambitious but it works for him and he’s so dedicated to his goals and does he even know himself because he almost brushed it off at first I kept thinking about the “wait, am I really ok with this?” Line because like he wasn’t ok with that and he did something so drastic in order to stop it but I think it’s peculiar the way he thinks to himself the way he doesn’t quite know what he wants like he thinks he doesn’t want to eat monster food but then he does and he wants to do good for humanity but what does he even want to do for himself? And I always think about the “What was the purpose in me surviving Utaya?” Or whatever he said I’m not looking up the specific panel I’m on a ramble I’m not stopping for anything this is like a fucking train there are no sudden brakes I’m typing without stopping or editing or anything this is non stop. Does he not see himself as anything other than a means to better humanity? Something to be sacrificed if it’s for the greater good? Post-canon he goes on to study under Yaad and be Laios’ advisor and be Prime Minister but it’s all helping people he’s making decisions to help Melini and his friends and what’s good for people but what does Kabru want to do? Thinking about how Izutsumi goes around asking people what they are going to do and they all have different plans for the future but they decide that right then they’ll be enjoying a nice meal with each other. Has Kabru ever slowed down and thought he wanted to enjoy a meal with his friends? Sure he has meals with others, but it seems like he only has them because he has to eat because he needs it to live or because he’s trying to get Laios to like him so he can figure out what his deal is or because his friends are being held hostage or because he wants to help Laios with the Faligon feast and it’s all out of necessity or for other people. Does he ever sit down and think he WANTS to enjoy a meal with the people he cares about? Does he ever think he’s done so much good for humanity and maybe he can let himself be selfish for maybe an afternoon and eat a nice meal he likes with people he cares about? Miss Ryoko Kui please please can Kabru enjoy a nice meal with people he cares about and it’s because he wants to 🙏 can it be like an extra comic or something on the side please pleaseeeee pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewe In the post canon Laios was playing in some random field with kids and Falin and Marcille were there in the background with a picnic basket because they were gonna have a picnic together but Kabru wasn’t there can he please come to their picnic and enjoy himself and have a yummy meal and have an overall very lovely time and think to himself he’s glad he came and he like smiles pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeweeeee

I just want the guy who doesn’t eat meals very often in the manga about eating meals to have a nice meal 💔 is that too much to ask 💔 please please or can we at least draw fanart of that can we get some fanart of him having some like absolutely delicious food waiter waiter more Kabru fanart please and if the chef is able can we please get him having a nice meal? Ok thanks also can we get some fanfics can we invest more on the DunMeshi food themes I think there is not enough content about them eating meals I also think Kabru doesn’t get enough stuff focused on him so can we get some fanfics of him having some nice meals or do I have to write one myself because I will and it will sit around have done in my notes forever because I’m notoriously bad at finishing things but please please Kabru content and if it’s possible can having a nice time and if we can get even more specific can there be Kabru having a nice meal and feeling loved and happy and letting himself be a little selfish for just a little bit so he can focus on his own nice meal and let himself be happy pleaseeee

He makes me so fucking crazy there are so many things wrong with him and I love him. There are so many things I want to say that I can’t even think of the words to. I don’t know how to phrase any of it all I can think about it is Kabru.

Kabru ily 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 He looks so stupid in this picture I love him so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #kabru #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru dunmeshi #kabru of utaya #rope/spider post #kabru posting

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junislqve · 4 months

Text

⟡ stay in my memories

when you had finally started to accept your past, it comes back to haunt you

pairs ex!jake + reader content angst kissing jake being toxic wordcount 1404 — find my other works

note ending is highkey rushed and was supposed to be happy, but this is self indulgent, so! i also listened to memories an ungodly amount while writing this

YOU HUFFED AS YOUR DOORBELL RANG FOR THE SECOND TIME. it was 11pm. a few minutes ago, your friend had just left after picking up her cat from the week-long vacation she had with her boyfriend. you had sensed she’d forgotten something.

when it rang once more, you begrudgingly stood up dragging your legs to the front door. the lights to your small living room was already off save for one that was only enough to illuminate the front door.

you sigh as the door click open, “you really need to stop forget-”

“hi, babyy”

your heart dropped. not because of how the man in front of you accidentally stumbled and now practically has his boy weight supported by you, and also somehow not because of how his hands circle your body and rest on your waist like how it used to.

it was his voice that did.

his voice that you swore on everything you would never want to hear again. hating how it sounded so much you’d bail on any man that sounded similar to him or had his accent.

how could you not when only a few simple words uttered with that voice had your mind reeling? repeating the same heart wrenching sentence in your head over and over again, it engraved itself.

it was pouring outside. you’ve been very stuffed with schoolwork and your finals coming up. papers spread out everywhere on your table and books scattered on your bedsides and floor.

you felt a tickle on your ankle and watched as your dog rubbed its side on your body, begging for attention. you chuckle, dropping your pen and bending down to pick her up. sitting her on your lap as you rubbed its back.

“i’m sorry, i just need to finish this paper and i’ll promise i’ll give you some attention, okay?” you coo at her, it hung her head low but complied, laying her head on your lap.

a moment later, your phone lit up. you stared at the caller and with no hesitation immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face, “hi, babe-”

“let’s break up”

you stopped. the pouring rain seemed to have hushed in a matter of seconds, the air around you felt constricted. your dog stayed silent, looking up at you in confusion.

“what?”

“it’s just going to be hard keeping up our relationship in the long run. i’m graduating and you still have two years”

“so?”

“so i don’t want to hold each other back” he sounded frustrated.

“so that’s it?” you ask, voice heavy. “you’re going to leave me because you don’t want to wait two years for me?”

“you’re twisting my words”

“that’s exactly what you said, jake”

“i’m sorry”

no he’s not.

“no, you’re not” you say, you wait for a second too long before hanging up. you damn well know he’s not, because if he was you wouldn’t be crying as hard as you are right now. your chest wouldn’t have felt as painful as it does.

there was nothing but confusion that clouded your mind the following days. you were trying to reason with yourself why he’d ever break up with you.

your boyfriend is the sweetest yet most comforting guy you’ve ever known. or at least, was. you thought there must be something wrong with you.

everything reminded you of him. back then, you thought you hit the lottery when he landed as your first love as well as your first boyfriend. you never doubted your relationship, he was always there for you whenever you needed him and you never turned him down if he needed a shoulder.

every waking moment after the breakup felt plain to you. habits and hobbies turned more of a chore, some of the things you did were picked up from his habits.

you were quiet about your breakup. it took a total of 13 days until anyone found out. your friends having to fish it out of you when they felt how quiet and more zoned out you’ve become.

for three months, jake’s name was not allowed to be uttered. it was a rule your friend made. she knew anything correlated to him could tip you off, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

she didn’t know that you’d still visit his old album from time to time just to feel something. to remember all the ways he loved you and all the ways he wasn’t there to, anymore.

you can’t let go the feeling of how he would hug you, all the times he would kiss you giggles filling out every corner of the room. the moments he’d lay on the bed with you, whispering sweet nothings lulling you to sleep.

you still can feel all of that, a ghost of the past you were never willing to let go.

you wished time could heal all of you completely. because now when you swore you have finally started to move on, he has his body slumped on yours, breath fanning your neck.

“jake?” you curse yourself from how quiet it came out. your voice wavering, your breath shallow before you slowly walk in, his body still slumped on yours.

he hummed, “i missed you” he dug his head deeper into your neck, making you physically sick.

you tug him off, stabling him by his shoulders and you wished you didn’t. you could see his state now. his hair was all messed up, face tinted red from drinking and he had that pout. his eyes attempting to blink itself awake as he looks at you through sleepy eyes.

“jake” you say again, finding your voice. that pout of his grew at your tone.

“don’t you miss me?” he asks, voice so soft you almost gave in. his hands still hover on your waist and you’d lie if you said you weren’t fully aware of it.

“i’ll grab you some water” you say, walking out of his reach. the heat from his body slowly seeping away as you walk to grab a glass of water.

you turn back to see him sat on the couch, his head laying on the arm rest, legs sprawled sideways. tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes crease open along with that smile of his. your heart clenched.

he grabs the cup and downs it in one gulp, “thank you” he says quietly.

when you were about to grab it and walk back to the kitchen, jake had tugged your shirt causing you to topple on top of him on the couch.

“you haven’t said you missed me back” he said, head buried in your hair, breathing you in.

you gathered all of you to push against him and stand up, “jake, stop”

“i know you’re sober”

it barely showed, but you could see the slight waver of his smile.

“i miss you” he says for the third time tonight, eyes open but still slightly glazed.

“you’re being selfish” tears start to well up. it’s overwhelming to say the least. how could he just show up at your doorstep months later giving you false hope? after everything he’s made you go through.

“i know” he starts, sitting up slightly, “and i know i have no right to come back here begging for you to come back. but i miss you”

“you should leave” you look away.

“please”

“jake”

“i’m sorry” he says, “but i’ll do better this time”

maybe it was those eyes that convinced you, or the sliver of sincerity you pretended to see in his eyes or maybe once again it was that voice that allured you. but you gave in.

he brought you in for a kiss. one that you’ve undoubtedly miss all these months of being apart. jake just knew how to bring you back into his arms. he held you all night long and between the kiss and the cuddling, you dozed into a sleep you haven’t felt for months.

you shifted, you peek at the light hitting your eyes from the slip of the curtains.

you rolled over, the space beside you, cold.

you sat up, the blanket falling off your body as you looked around the living room. trying to grasp at the hazy memory of last night.

the table in front of the couch is neat. when your eyes focused there was a scrap of paper placed on it.

‘i don’t deserve you, i’m sorry

-love, j’

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back2bluesidex · 4 months

Text

Seven Minutes - KNJ (18+)

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Theme: Major Angst, implied smut, fluff if you squint, Time-traveler Namjoon (?)

Wordcount: 1.1k+

Summary: Namjoon goes around the world in a day in just seven minutes.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, cock riding, creampie (it's a no no), death, very angsty, time travelling but not really. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I don't know what is this honestly. I managed to incorporate rpwp tracks in the story but I hope you guys don't cry. let me know how it is if you want <3

Masterlist | Patreon

The first trail of winter is evident under the soft glow of sun.

Leaves are starting to turn brown, there is a chill in the early morning air, the last remnants of fog are still clinging to the dust.

But Namjoon can’t feel a thing, neither the chill nor the foggy air. He is not from this world or timeline after all.

Namjoon sees himself, the younger version, standing at the bus stop waiting for the vehicle to arrive so he can leave for his first class.

He used to be so sorted out even in his early twenties but that faded with time.

And then he sees you, the younger version of you.

Rushing past him you reach where the younger Namjoon is standing currently.

You look the same - just so beautiful.

It is the moment that younger Namjoon fell for you.

It is the moment everything started.

When he peeks he sees his younger self stealing glances at you. He smiles at the dumbfoundedness of the younger boy, who is very clearly taken aback with your beauty.

It was the very moment he fell for you.

But right now he feels like he has been the wrong person in the right place.

Only if it were someone else, you probably would have been happier than he had ever managed to make you.

Everything surrounding Namjoon morphes into black and gradually the scene changes.

Now he finds himself standing inside a wedding hall.

The wedding hall, where he got tied with you.

There are familiar faces everywhere, some of the faces he missed seeing, some of the faces he hated seeing, and some he never saw properly in the first place.

Then his eyes fell on your figure.

You look so divine, so gorgeous that he could start crying right away.

Your gloved hands are held by another younger version of himself, the one that claimed to be your groom.

He watches as you two take vows one by one, promising for a forever that he failed to keep.

And then the kiss.

Namjoon recalls he felt like heaven at that moment.

You felt like heaven to him.

Just as before, everything starts morphing into a blackhole again. The scene changes and now he is standing inside your shared bedroom.

The first thing he sees is the sunkissed smooth skin of your naked back, then his eyes drift down towards your hip. His younger self is clutching onto your waist as if his life depends on it.

The grunts and moans are mixing with the already tensed air and making things even worse.

He watches you ride the other him, your tits bouncing with every move you make.

You have always rode him like a pro, making him go nuts.

You release, triggering his own climax. He spills into you shamelessly.

“I- I love you so much” his younger self confesses to his freshly wedded wife, you.

“I love you too, Joon.” you reply ardently.

The scene changes with another rush of black.

This time he travels to a much recent time, only two years prior to his own timeline.

You two are now married for five years already.

The promises of loving each other have started crumbling down under the weight of busy schedules, unspoken truths and the monotonous routine of everyday life.

The love his younger self confessed of has turned into a habit.

He sees you waiting. You are sitting on the couch, staring towards the condo door as if you haven't seen him for years.

Namjoon wishes you could actually see the current version of himself, who is also desperate to reach out to you now.

But he knows it’s impossible. He doesn’t belong to this timeline.

The door opens. Another version of himself walks in, clearly tried and irritated.

“You’re late again.” your voice comes out thinner than the night-time air.

Younger Namjoon doesn’t give you a single nod and heads straight towards the bedroom.

He stands there, watching you as tear drops fall from your eyes one by one, roll down on your cheeks and soon turn into a downpour of heavy emotions.

Namjoon cries too, even when he can’t feel his own tears. He cries with you nonetheless.

This is the moment, he realized, he became lost for the rest of his lifetime.

This time the black is mixed with a little white, making things gray.

When the next scene appears, he finds himself, younger only by a year, sitting at his desk with his head leaned back and eyes closed.

You stand before him, crying, sobbing, almost begging.

The scene breaks his heart. But his younger self had been impressively heartless at that time.

“What do you mean you fell out of love?” you manage to speak in between the sobs.

“I said what I feel, Y/N. I need a break.” His younger self adds matter-of-fact-ly.

He hates it.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see what he was doing to you? How the hell did he manage to be such an asshole?

You break down at his words.

Namjoon turns his back at the scene. If he stays in this timeline for a second more, he will lose it.

And as if granting his prayers, the scene changes. The black nothingness gets even lighter this time.

Is this a sign of approaching the end of seven minutes?

This time he finds himself alone, the same one as himself, just a few hours prior.

He is sitting at an overpriced bar, clutching a whisky in his one hand, clutching his phone to his ear with another.

He is calling you.

“Come back to me, Y/N. come back to me.” he murmurs into the call.

If he remembers correctly, you cut the call as soon as he completed his sentence. You were unwilling to let him break you more, which he understands - appreciates.

Settings morph into a grayish black for one last time. And now he is back where he is supposed to be.

Namjoon’s soul stands beside the hospital bed, where his dead body is lying cold.

You are sitting right beside him, crying your eyes out.

Crying as if your heart has been ripped off and your blood is flowing ceaselessly.

Research says the human brain stays active for seven minutes after death to replay memories.

Is it a coincidence that he started his seven minutes with you and ended it with you?

Probably not because you have been his world, his most precious gain in life.

Even though he had caused you so much pain, you never truly left.

And see… you are here to mourn for his unfortunate, premature death.

Spending his last seven minutes with you is equivalent to going around the world in a day to him.

And this way Namjoon can bid you goodbye properly, even when you will never get to know about it.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

#bts angst #namjoon angst #bts smut #namjoon smut #rm smut #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x you #namjoon x you #bts fanfictions #bts oneshot #bts drabble #bts namjoon #bts

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californ1asnow · 11 months

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Call Me Up Again - pt. 2 Mike Schmidt x Reader

Part two of All Too Well Angst!!! So much angst everyone I've decided to turn this into a miniseries, this post being the second part. I'll continue to link chapters as I post them This is also being updated on ao3 (cough cough) No warnings this time 1.9k words

Snowflakes fall silently, coating everything around them in a white dust. The wind blows with a crisp chill, nipping at all the rose-pink noses. It sends shivers down the backs of those who dare be out in this weather. The pumpkins and fake graveyard decor that had once littered every home’s front yard has long since been swapped for tinsel garlands and pine wreaths.

The Schmidt residence beams with colored string lights and holiday music. A tall, sturdy evergreen sits patiently by the window. Its branches are decorated with years worth of homemade ornaments, ranging in all size and age from both Mike and Abby. The red skirt beneath it falls relatively empty of presents, only donning the few small ones Mike could afford to buy this year. They’re wrapped pathetically in an old birthday paper, the only wrapping Mike could find to reuse.

Usually, the tree is so full that he’s had to store things in his closet, but that was when you were still a part of their Christmas. Stockings hung happily above the fireplace and a love so innocent it wraps the house in a warm glow. However, it’s void of that feeling now, instead Mike is left to pick up the pieces that you once fit together. Abby doesn’t understand why you don’t come over anymore, or why Mike has been so quiet lately. All she knows is that something went wrong, and now everyone is upset. She’s stopped bringing up your name in conversation when talking to Mike, because it always ends with him withdrawn and retreating to the solidarity of his room.

That didn’t stop her from drawing you, though. Sometimes she’d sit at her desk, tears collecting in the well of her eyes, and doodle old memories of the three of you. She remembers them being happy, but by the time the crayons were set aside and the picture was finished, it was a glum mess of dark blues and frowning faces.

After a drawing is finished she’d slip past Mike’s room, quietly tiptoeing out the front door, and make a break for the house across the street. Your house. She’d work fast, her feet carrying her quickly to and fro. It was unclear from her perspective whether you paid attention to what she’d give you, but by the time she slipped a new piece of paper underneath your door, the old one she had gifted you was gone.

Mike was unaware of it all.

He had found a new job in town where he could bury all his thoughts. It was working construction for a local contractor, a job that certainly wasn’t ideal but it paid better than what he’d been used to. Unfortunately, it required longer hours and ate up all his free time, meaning Abby needed a new babysitter. A job that was once happily filled by your company, now replaced with an afterschool program suggested to him from a flyer he found at work. He hated the thought of her sitting in essentially another classroom, surrounded by strangers and snotty kids, but it was his only option left.

With a third of his paycheck dedicated to it, Abby now spends her weekdays at the nearby YMCA.

The first time he told her about the new program didn’t go over very well. He remembers it clearly.

“Abby please,” his irritated voice interrupts her incessant protesting, “listen, it’s the only place that can watch you.”

“No it’s not!” She yelled at him, her finger pointing to your house across the street, “I want her back!”

A pang of guilt struck his chest at her words. The lack of your presence has clearly been taking a toll on the both of them, but it’s the first time Abby’s ever been so vocal about it. He crossed his arms with a sigh, watching his little sister stare up at him with solemn eyes. Her lip quivering ever so slightly, evident that she’s holding back tears.

He crouches down to her level, just like he had done to you so many nights ago, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded with her, “but she’s not coming back right now.”

Her head shook with disbelief, stubbornly stuck in her spot, “Then make her come back.”

–

You’re not sure when the Mike shaped hole in your heart stopped aching, but it’s significantly less sore compared to a fresh wound. That’s not to say the constant reminder of him and Abby living across the street from you doesn’t sting. It’s hard enough to ignore all his calls, but trying to get to your car while avoiding his gaze is even worse. Eventually, he gave up on contacting you by the third month of radio silence. It hurt both of you, but you knew deep down neither of you could continue functioning like how you were.

The back and forth pull of his affection took too big of a toll on your mental well being. You can remember every moment down to the exact detail of how much you craved for him to just do something, anything.

All those times you held him in your soft embrace whispering sweet nothings in his ear, reassuring him everything will be okay, just for him to turn around the next day and never bring it up again. Or when you’d run your warm fingers through his hair to calm him down after a panic attack, and he’d let his head rest in your lap. Words of affection dripping off his lips like a rich honey, warming you up from the inside out. Then he’d disappear for a while, claiming he needed some space to figure stuff out, all the while you’d beg and plead for him to tell you what’s on his mind, only for him to give you nothing back.You stood by him regardless though, keeping a silent promise that you’d always be there for him when he needed it, a love that was never reciprocated back.

A long sigh escapes from you, eying the new delivery that just appeared by your door. You shuffle towards it weakly, unsure if you really wanted to torture yourself by looking at it. It’s one of those things that curiosity will drive you to do, unable to ignore it like a pedestrian passing by a car crash. The paper crinkles under your touch, unfolding it reveals the familiar childlike style of Abby’s drawings. A man drawn in green crayon frowns up at you, holding hands with an equally sad looking child. Your gaze drifts over to the other side of the paper, highlighting a person relatively similar to you standing alone with their arms crossed, angry. Your heart hurts at the sight of it, knowing that Abby is implying that you’re angry at the two of them. You shake your head quickly, trying to evade any tears that threaten to spill. It’s not fair for Abby to be caught in the middle of whatever is going on between you and Mike, and you realize that.

The sound of your phone ringing breaks your train of thought, and when you check the caller ID your breath hitches. Standing in the middle of your living room frozen with indecisiveness, you stare at the screen while chewing on the bottom of your lip. Without thinking, you accept the call.

“Hello?”

There’s a sound on the other end of the line, somewhere in between a choke and a gasp, and then your name is mumbled out in disbelief.

“I didn’t think you’d actually pick up…” Mike’s voice is still a little startled, mimicking the internal panic in your chest.

You suck in a deep, steady breath before answering, “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” There’s a slight pause from both of you, unsure how to continue the conversation. It’s felt like years since you last heard his voice.

“Are you…doing okay?”

“...Yeah.” Your answer is unconvincing, but Mike doesn’t have any ground to be able to question it. So it’s left like that, timidly dangling in the air between you both.

You hear shuffling in the background, and a smaller voice asking a question before he dismisses it. Your heart lurches thinking about how Abby is there, trying to figure out who her older brother might be on the phone with. It almost makes your cool demeanor crack, urging you back into your savior complex.

“Uh, sorry about that,” your phone crackles back to life, “anyways, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh okay.”

“Can you,” he stops, leaving you on edge, “meet me somewhere?”

The lack of response from you causes him to start rambling, going on about how it would be better to talk in person, and how it would be easier if you could see each other’s expressions. Soon afterwards, a string of apologies ensue, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“Okay Mike. Promise me this will be worth it.”

“I promise.”

–

A young waitress stares nervously at your booth. Orders continually piling up, hungry customers giving her rude looks whenever she ignores their impatient huffs. It’s been a good thirty minutes since you first showed, and she’s checked up on you at least a handful of times by now. Mike had suggested this little diner down the street from your house, and you agreed to meet here.

However, it seems like you’re the only one who showed up.

Your back is pressed against the uncomfortable foam board of your seat, a leg bobbing rapidly out of habit. You pick at the pills on your sweatshirt sleeve, trying to avert your gaze from the sympathetic waitress. Prior to your predicament, she had asked if you were dining alone, and you told her no. However, It’s starting to look like you just might be. With anger bubbling inside of you, a voice in the back of your head is saying you should have seen this coming. It’s so typical of Mike to make promises that he’s unwilling to keep.

The air smells like grease, mostly from the old fryers sitting in the back of the kitchen. Oil bubbling and brooding in their tanks, waiting for someone to drop a morsel of food so it could shrivel in the scalding lard. Stomach stirring with disgust, a wave of nausea washes over you. It’s unclear exactly what’s causing it, you’d like to give credit to the sleazy restaurant, but something deep down points to the lack of a certain person’s company.

You keep your attention trained on the dwindling heat of your coffee. Both corners of your mouth scrunch downwards at the smooth ceramic now held in your cold hands. When did watching a cup of coffee become so interesting?

“Would you like some more?” The sweet but timid waitress asks you, now back at her spot beside your table.

A joyless smile flashes across your face, a futile attempt at masking your dejection. Pushing the cup forward, silently accepting a fresh refill from her kettle.

“He’s not worth it.” She adds, tipping off your mug. Her eyes refuse to meet yours as she does so, and you are thankful for that fact.

“No,” you respond back, “he never is, I guess.” Your voice is shaky, as are the hands that are folded in your lap.

Mike is not worth the years of being hurt and pushed away. Not worth the tears that fall after coming home from a night spent at his house, inconsolably sobbing because you know no matter what you do it leads back to the same thing. To give up all your time, love, and patience just to receive nothing in exchange.

It’s not worth the unrequited love.

“Can I have the check please?” You ask quietly, still avoiding the gaze of the girl next you.

Her head shakes with pity, fingers wrapping around the arm of the kettle, “it’s on the house.”

TAGLIST - @wriothesleysbimbo @psbc @victimsofadownn @that1lxnlybxch @callsignwidow

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x y/n #taylor swift #all too well #angst #fnaf

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

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Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Six - Where Is The Party Princess?

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.8K

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a/n: thank you so much to @nirrahbrii for help with some translations! i don't think this chapter would have been the same without that little world lol

Where Is The Party Princess?

The Monaco Post prides themselves on their ability to keep the public updated on the whereabouts of our favourite royal. We've documented every one of her scandals, from the time where she was fifteen years old and found herself detained by the police, to last year, when she was caught in bed with American actor, Glen Powell.

For the past few years, we have thanked the Princess of Monaco for providing us with such stories. She was a royal like no other, one we found our readers could relate to.

So, that leaves us to wonder, where is the party princess now? It has been a week since we've last seen Princess Y/N. Our sources have reached out to members of the royal family and staff for comment, but only managed to get one reply.

It seems, dear readers, that our beloved party Princess has run away.

"Are you sure you want the party princess to drag you down to her level? Because that's what's going to happen next time we're pictured together."

Charles turned his full body towards her. "What're you saying?" He wore a frown on his face, one that didn't suit him. She realised it immediately. He looked so downtrodden when he frowned. "Do you want to break this arrangement off?"

Once again she shrugged. "Just giving you the option to get out before you end up like Frédéric Archambeau," she said.

"Who is Frédéric Archambeau?"

"Exactly."

Charles sucked in a breath. He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair and stood up. "That's it," he said, striding towards her. "We can break off this arrangement, if you want, but I'm not going to leave you to here to rot."

She scoffed. "Stop pretending to care."

Immediately, Charles took a hold of her mug and placed it down onto the coffee table. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "We're going away."

She couldn't stop the laugh that was pulled from her lips. "Fuck off, Charles," she said and pulled her hand out of his.

But Charles grabbed her again. He pulled her towards her bedroom. "Pack a bag, we're going somewhere warm," he said and pulled open her wardrobe.

"Where?" It wasn't a genuine question, more of a challenge. She sat on the bed and folded her legs under her body, watching him. "Where the fuck are you taking me?" Her voice was bitter, filled with venom as she watched Charles.

He found a suitcase under her bed and began throwing clothes in. It was impossible to sort out what was clean and what wasn't, so Charles just threw it all in. "Australia," he said. "Or Spain. We can go wherever."

"I don't want to go with you," she said immediately.

Charles released an exasperated sigh. "I am begging you to go along with this," he said as he crouched in front of her. "Don't even do this for me. Do it for yourself!"

"Why?" She cried. "Why the fuck do you care about me?!"

Charles dropped his head into his hands. "Please," he said quietly. "Just, let me help you."

It wasn't for her, she realised quickly. For some reason, Charles needed this. He needed this trip, she just didn't know why he needed her. "Fine," she said and began filling her suitcase with everything she'd need for a trip away.

A relieved breath left his lips. "Thank you," he whispered.

That was how she found herself in Greece with Charles Leclerc. For the first few days, the tabloids had left them alone. The Monaco press wasn't around to write new crap about her (so they'd been recycling the same old crap).

It took a few days for her to really warm up to him. She knew Charles, sure, but she knew the Charles the world saw. She knew the rich kid from Monaco, the one that the tabloids wrote about, the one that had the tiktok edits made about him.

She didn't know the real Charles. The Charles that loved his friends. The Charles that had so much he wanted to do with his life. The Charles that was genuinely so funny. She knew the F1 driver that doubled as a super model, she knew CL16, not Cha.

Cha. When had she taken to calling him that? It had happened all at once, but she hadn't stopped. It was maybe their second day in Greece, their second day of peace, their second day of getting away from it all.

Every call she'd gotten from Henri, she'd ignored. She didn't need her brother's constant scrutiny. He didn't approve of the trip, that much was clear, but she didn't care. Henri had tried calling Charles, but, at her request, he didn't pick up the phone.

Both the Princess and Charles were used to being waited on through their vacations. They were rich enough that it had become expected. But, for this vacation, Charles wanted it to just be the two of them. No interruptions, nobody to report back to the press.

Just the both of them making the most of it.

She stepped out of her bedroom in the villa and yawned. Her body was adorned in nothing but shorts and a vest top as she walked across the cold stone flooring, heading towards the kitchen.

Charles was already sitting there. He sat in just his swimming trunks, a coffee in front of him as he went through his emails. (As embarrassing as it was to admit, it had taken the two of them two days to work out how to use the coffee machine. She and Charles each had a coffee machine, but this one was different, not as simple as having a 'go' button.)

"Wanna go out for drinks tonight?" She asked as she sat opposite him. Her body was turned towards the kitchen doors, looking towards the pool.

She hadn't had a drink since they'd gotten to Greece. Charles was incredibly proud of her, although he hadn't said anything. "We can go for a few," he answered. Nothing too crazy, Charles wasn't sure what to do with her if she got too crazy.

He was barely able to take care of her after they'd gone to The Hole In The Wall.

Maybe that was what led Charles to suggest something else. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't in good conscience take her out for a night on the town. They'd managed to stay out of the spotlight for this long, and Charles could see how much good it was doing her. Doing both of them.

He wasn't ready to drag her back into it.

"What if we stay here?" He asked, standing up and walking towards the glass doors. He carried his coffee mug with him as he looked at the pool sparkling in the morning sun. "We could have drinks around the pool."

She let out a snort, one she assumed he would have found unattractive. "You still that embarrassed to be seen with me?" She asked through her snort. But then she saw the way his face fell. "I'm joking, Cha. Yes, I'd love to have drinks with you around the pool."

They went about their day, swimming in the pool, lounging in the sun, going out for lunch together (always in big hats and sunglasses. It wasn't the most covert operation, but it was working).

In the evening, Charles attempted to make dinner. He wasn't the best cook out there, but it was something he enjoyed. They'd gotten drinks on their way back from lunch, shopping in the little supermarket on their way back to the villa.

It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, but she still dressed up. Charles had the nicest shirt and shorts combo that he'd brought with him and she wore a pretty little dress.

He wasn't going to admit that the sight of her walking down the stairs, sitting in the little out by the pool in that pretty little dress, it would have had a weaker man on his knees. Charles didn't know how he was still standing. Maybe because he wanted to help her, maybe because he respected her brother too much to try anything on.

She sang his praises while she ate, a far cry from the girl he'd practically forced to pack a bag just a few days ago. This was a side of her that the world had forced to hide away. This was the side of her he wanted to see, the real her that he wanted the world to fall in love with. Not the her that the world had decided to hate.

When they finished eating, they just sat there, drinking and talking as they looked at the pool. "So, are you actually friends with my brother, or is it just because he's the princess?" She asked as she drank from her wine glass.

Charles let out a laugh. That was exactly the kind of question he'd expected from her. "Henri and I are actually friends," he answered, not paying attention to the way her toe hit his knee (he didn't mind it, not one bit). "I'll admit, I felt bad when people called me the Prince of Monaco, and that may have contributed to me wanting to be friends with him. But our friendship is real."

She nodded as she sipped. "Must be nice having the Prince of Monaco at your every beck and call," she mumbled.

"You're saying that like you don't."

That dry laugh he'd heard so many times before, that dry laugh that Charles hated to hear, left her lips. "Trust me, Cha, I don't." She finished her drink and stood up. "At least, not the real Prince of Monaco."

He couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol that controlled her. But she hiked up her skirt and sat himself in her lap. It was so sudden, so unexpected, he had no idea what to do. Her hands were around his neck. "I'd rather have the unofficial Prince of Monaco at my beck and call. What do you think of that?"

Charles couldn't react. He didn't get a chance to, not when she pressed her lips to his own.

It wasn't slow, it wasn't full of passion. No, it was quick and clumsy. One taste of her lips against his own. And, when she pulled away, she laid her head against his shoulder. "I shouldn't have done that," she whispered as she played with his hair. "Oh, crotte."

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Taglist (OPEN): @charizznorizz @rafaaoli @myescapefromthislife @spilled-coffee-cup @janeholt3 @mamako23 @randomgirlnumber13 @booksobsess @chonkybonky @mindflay3r @ananyasr1bughead @sltwins @lordpercevalcharles @jaydensluv @shobaes @leclercdream @iamkaku @st-ev-ie @heavengirls111 @arrowheadleadingushome13 @halleest

#f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

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chilahh16 · 3 months

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" This is where I leave you."

People say that the hardest thing in love is seeing the love of your life happy with another. They're not so wrong. However, they also failed to tell others that leaving the very person that has became your world, the very air you breath, and the reason for sunshine in the morning is painstakingly arduous and painful.

If only she was given a heads-up, she would have held on tightly as the foundation of their love crumble as every season pass.

Y/n L/n did not know when everything started to change. When the colors so vivid started to dim and the love as red as his dream car faded. She can still remember the very first time she held his hand, the first hugs, kiss, and the first of everything. She and Charles loved each other as if the love they have is the only right thing there is. Maybe it is at one point. Because looking back, she came to realize that she had become a liability to him.

As Charles Leclerc continue to soar in the world of racing, Y/n felt that she has been holding him down - stopping him from reaching his true potential. They are two worlds completely differing each other. As he stands and bask in the spotlight, she found peace in the shadows. They walk in fame and peace, separately, and that's when the support she had been giving was not enough, no more. That even when their love clings on to the hope that this can be overcome just like the other times it did, it seemed that their love has its limit. From the whispers of people to the unending hungry stares of women wanting a piece of him, as though he is a prize in a game, caused cracks in their hardened relationship that stood proudly with time.

Y/n loved him too much that she stood by him. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, and to the most painful of times. She was beside him when Jules passed; she became his rock and comfort. Even that was not enough for the world is cruel. It did not give their love time to blossom beautifully, it withered and died unwittingly.

Now, 6 years later, everything has changed so as everyone. But it seemed he did not. Looking as the blazing red car seamlessly turn and sped off to the finish line, proved her theory. His dream still stand firm and she was grateful she was there to witness as he stands victorious in his home race. Maybe everything did not change, because if it is, then it wouldn't hurt this much. The memories of the past still fresh in her mind - his tear stained face, the broken sobs and the tight arms that envelop her, haunted her for years and it was at this moment that she felt its full force. A wave of nausea hit her as she stands looking up at her past love. She could no longer stop the tears as she sobbed and held her chest as he proudly give honor to Jules and Herve above.

'He did it Jules, Herve. He conquered Monaco and they love him back.'

Hence, she turned her back one last time. Just like she did all those years ago. How she broke his heart and left him to pick up the pieces. But leaving him today hurts so much more as she made peace with the truth. This will be the end of their story. Every step away from him tore her further as finally she lets go of the past, of him.

"How can you be so selfish?"

Y/n stood stuck as the ever familiar voice laced with a thick accent reverberated in her ears. It couldn't be right?

"How dare you come here and leave again." It was no question as his voice is laced with venom.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." was the only thing that came to y/n's lips as her hands found comfort in them. She cannot face him. Could not. Would not.

"Did you really think it was that easy. Do you take me as a fool to just forgive you?" Charles growled as he view the figure of the woman he had loved in the past.

"Look at me and tell me why you did it." he yelled as he felt his heart constrict.

Charles Leclerc thought that he was over the past. That he had buried everything to the deepest parts of his memories. That he had already forgotten the shape of her face, her infectious smile, and everything good about her. How selfish can she be coming today and showing her face to him like nothing happened? How dare she cry as he triumph? How dare his heart skip a beat upon seeing her.

The man that he became is someone he does not even recognize. The podiums, the wins, the praises, everything felt like a buzz in his ears. He could not feel himself again. Upon picking up the pieces of him that was left after her ruthless goodbye, he has learned to close his heart. Every relationship after her was for a naught when every peaceful nights, her face is the one he sees as was every waking dawn. He tried to move on, to forget everything about her but it was hard. So hard that no matter the pain she gave, his heart still beats for her only.

And seeing her today, just proved it. He did not care about the win at all, he knows that he made his father and godfather proud. It was because of them that he was able to race but, it was she that became his driving force to continue. And when she left, the world stopped.

"Look at me." he pressed as he held his anger. Afraid that he would lash out in front of millions.

But he did not care. He wanted to know what happened. Why she left as if he was no more than a stranger. He give no mind to the eyes that follow his and her every move. To all the rumors and backlash be damned. He needed this after all this years.

Slowly but surely, he found his forest colored orbs trained to the eyes that held warmth from before. He was now met with the face of the person he had laid his heart to.

" Charlie, I'm so sorry..."

" Don't!... don't call me that. You have no right."

" Brother, not here. Please." Arthur begged as he held his older brother. Reminding him that all of Monaco has their eyes trained on them, that the camera has panned to their stature when Charles ran down the podium after the anthem was over. The festive circuit has quieten, nervously awaiting the scene to unfold. People of the world are waiting as the race was aired live.

" No. I need to know, 'Tur." Charles, ever stubborn, state as he stepped closer to Y/n, causing the woman to panic further.

" Arthur's right. Not here, please." Y/n stuttered as she felt every eyes on her frame. Mocking and judging her.

" What do you know about what's right. You left remember. You left me to die. You're. selfish."

" Stop. Please..."

" No! Not until you tell me why you did it."

"Just stop. Please stop."

" Then tell me!"

" I was scared!" Y/n yelled as the tears streamed unending. She has finally done it. If this is the last time, then let it be done with.

" After Jules' death, I came to realize that it could happen to you anytime. No matter how careful you are, there is no guarantee that you would come out unscathed. Every time you drive that car, I pray to God, to every force that is listening to protect you because I cant!"

" When Jules was on his deathbed, no one but me and your family saw how you seem to die with him. Yes, I vowed to be with you always. But if being with you meant that every second of every season you race meant death is upon you, how can I have the strength to be strong and be able to stay."

Charles was left dumbfounded. He did not know. Why didn't you tell him. He would have understood. He was ready to give up everything for her, even the sport he loves.

"I can't have you give up racing because of me. I don't want you to resent me in the long run. If breaking both our hearts mean you'll be able to race and win, then it was worth it." Y/n finished as she hung her head low.

She has finally said it. All those years of torment, of heartache, of everyday wanting to go back and apologize was not for nothing. Both of them can finally move on as the truth was laid bare for everyone to see.

" How..." Charles started, not knowing what to say. The anger that made home to his heart was easily melted by knowing the truth. If only he had known, he would have never stopped looking for her, never stopped trying to win her again.

What was the point of this 'what if's' now that she has clearly moved on. But he is not Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc for nothing. No matter what, he'll try and try up until he triumph. Hence, he steeled himself, ready for what was to come next.

"Why are you worrying of the things that has yet to happen?" he started moving much closer to the woman he has always love.

" Please, don't do that. Just because of what happened before does not mean that it will happen now."

" You can never guarantee that. I cannot have y-"

" Y/n, look at me." Charles softly cradled her face, wiping the unending tears and soothing the chaos that is her mind.

" The things that has yet to happen does not dictate for us to lose hope. To be broken and sad. Why can't we worry about it when it happens? We'll worry about it when it comes. We'll cry when we're there. "

" No, Charles. Listen to me. You will never understand this even when you know everything. It will never change anything. And I have no right to love you." All broken and judged, she laid it for him.

However, Charles pursued. He will never let her go again. Never. Even if she tried every way possible for her to hurt him, he'll stay. Now more than ever.

" Why do you need the right to love me? I will say this once and for all, it's okay. So love me like you did before...or so much more." he reiterated as his forehead kissed hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth that emanated from her.

" You do not have to worry about what happened before happening again. I will stay by your side until you beg me not to. I have loved you before, right now and always. So please stay." he pleaded for the world to see.

But he did not care. He only cared for her, for Y/n. Because after all this time, he never forgot. His heart has always yearned for her just like how it beats for her alone. And it burst with love for the woman before him as he gaze onto her eyes. He saw everything there. Everything that she cannot put into words. And who was he to not seal it, again. Hence, he kissed the life out of her. The years of longing, hatred and guilt poured into that one kiss as the world cheered for them.

The flashes of cameras and the deafening cheer echoed in the street of his home as his love is back. He made thanks to the God he had never believed and the string that has yet to snap. Indeed it was true, ' the string may bend and tangle, but it will never break.' That the years apart was no punishment but, a way for them to grow - to see things clearly, to look back and learn that what happened was worth it. Yes, it did break them but, it also taught them that a relationship is partnership, that it really does take two to tango.

But then again, they were but humans, the two of them. Faulty but faithful. Hence, they'll hold tightly this time - never letting go, and remembering the start. Because Pascale was right, we only regret the chances we didn't take.

#charles leclerc x reader #ferrari #charles leclerc #f1 #arthur leclerc #monaco gp 2024 #angst #frienship #Charles Leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 month

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An exclusive deal

Written for @astrangersummer, week 12

Prompt: not-date

Rated: M

Words: 1,778 (also on AO3)

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Record label owner Eddie; Waiter Steve; Sex work; Attempted non-con (mentioned); Protective Eddie; Possessive Eddie

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Eddie has been fantasizing about Steve Harrington for as long as he can remember.

There was nothing tender to it in the beginning. Eddie was well aware of high school hierarchies and the unspoken laws of small town life. He was a freak who listened to the wrong kind of music, who lived on the shady end of town and sold drugs from his run-down van. He’d never amount to much in life.

Steve on the other hand? Perfect, pretty King Steve with his rich parents, the big house, a different girl on each arm every weekend? That boy was destined to go far, everyone in Hawkins knew that much.

Eddie was not an idiot. He knew that there were worlds between the two of them. There was no way in hell Steve would ever be his. And so he contented himself with imagining how that soft, smooth skin would feel under his hands, how those lips would taste as he sucked and bit at them while Steve moaned into his mouth. How the muscles of those perfect thighs would shake, wrapped around his waist or slung over his shoulders as he slowly reduced the King to a whining, sobbing mess.

Eddie booked it out of Hawkins the second he finally had his diploma in hand. He never once looked back. He still thought about Steve, occasionally.

It was only after they met again, years and miles away from that wretched place and with their positions in life all but flipped that Eddie's fantasies took a different turn.

Suddenly, Steve wasn't just an unattainable pretty face floating past in the hallways, but an actual, real person. Still floating, mind you, now on roller skates while waiting tables, but a person no less. A person with a past he refused to discuss. A person with a stubborn streak for miles and a beautiful, snarky sense of humor, and a soft, vulnerable side he was desperate to protect.

And suddenly, without warning, Eddie’s feelings shifted. Suddenly, he found himself preening at each glimpse of that smile, found his chest growing warm and tingly every time Steve accepted his tip money or leftover food.

Suddenly, the very thing that had always been a distant daydream seemed possible, and suddenly, he found himself craving it with a burning urgency that startled even himself.

He wanted Steve to be his.

And now, Steve is here in his apartment, shifting on the sofa so that he can lean further into Eddie’s space.

It's everything Eddie has been thinking about for weeks. Having Steve here, in his living room, close enough to feel his body heat, close enough to touch.

Except this is not a date.

“Ow, fuck,” he hisses as Steve touches a piece of alcohol-drenched gauze to his split lip. “That hurts!”

Steve scowls at him.

“It wouldn't hurt so much if you could stop fidgeting for five seconds” he scolds, but his touch goes more gentle. “We need to clean this before it gets infected.”

“Well,” Eddie says, “Maybe I’d stop fidgeting if you were more careful.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting two fingers to Eddie’s chin so that he can keep his head in place. “Stop being such a crybaby. I swear to God, I've babysat four-year-olds less whiny than you.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie snarks. “I doubt the four-year-olds ever had their heads bashed in trying to protect you from some sleazy, wannabe rapist in a dark side alley, so there.”

Steve freezes.

“Shit,” Eddie says, fighting against the rapidly rising urge to punch himself again. He's probably mildly concussed already, God knows he can do without extra hits. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“It's okay,” Steve says, but his expression has become guarded and distant again. Before Eddie can stop him, he stands, snatching the first aid kit from its place by their feet and carrying it over to the side table standing a small way off. A tense silence settles over the room while he turns his back, pretending to organize the contents, and Eddie wrecks his brain for something to say to lift the mood.

“Who was that douchebag, anyhow?” is what his mouth settles on. Steve's shoulders go rigid, and scratch that, Eddie clearly hasn't been punched enough yet.

“Dunno,” Steve mutters, just as Eddie is considering whether to bash his stupid fucking head against the sofa table or the nearest wall. “I don't ask their names, usually.”

Eddie can practically feel how the remaining color drains from his face.

“Wait, whoa,” he blurts. “Hold on a second. Their names? As in plural? What the hell, Steve?”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Steve slams the first aid kit shut so hard the plastic cracks, and whirls around. “Don't act so shocked. You think I'm getting by on waiting tables alone? Please! We're both grown-ass adults, don't make me spell it out for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie screeches. His hands are shaking, he can hear his own blood in his ears, and apparently, he's gotten off the sofa at some point, because he's on his feet and Steve takes a step back as he advances on him, bumping his ass against the table. “What are you even- … You can't do that.”

Steve's eyes go hard.

“Why not?” he asks, and the aloof tone and stubborn jut to his chin remind Eddie painfully of the first time they met again at the diner. “What's it to you?”

Everything, Eddie wants to say. It's fucking everything to him, because Steve is everything, and the idea of Steve with anyone else makes his blood boil and his stomach twist.

“I just…” he stutters instead. “I don't- … I don't get it. Money's a little tight, so you thought it would be a good idea to fuck strangers in an alleyway?”

Steve flushes and sputters. It would be adorable, under any other circumstances, if Eddie could feel anything but helpless rage right now.

“I don't fuck them,” he says. “I just …”

He trails off, blush darkening by about five shades. His eyes stay glued to one of the framed band posters on Eddie’s wall as he forms a loose circle with his thumb and fingers. He does a vague, jerky up-and-down motion, once, before he lets his hand flop to his side.

“Sometimes I suck ‘em off, but only if they're nice and pay extra.”

Eddie stares at him. Maybe, if the situation was any different, he'd find it funny how Steve can't bring himself to say the word handjob, but will casually talk about sucking someone off for a bit of extra money, but right now, all he wants to do is scream. The thought of Steve on his knees in that dark, stinking side alley, of that pretty, pink mouth opening for some other guy's cock, fills his mind with dark needlepoints of red.

“Are you fucking serious?” His hands have found his hair, pulling on a fistful of curls until his scalp stings. “That's- … Shit, that's dangerous, Steve. Do you have any idea what-”

“Oh, wow!” Steve throws up his hands and laughs, but there's no joy in it. “It's dangerous? Really? Well, thank you for telling me. What would I ever do without you?”

“Well excuse the fuck out of me,” Eddie snaps, and his voice rises dangerously. “Like what, I'm not allowed to worry about you?”

“No, you're not!”

The words bounce unpleasantly off the walls of the living room. They feel like a punch to the gut, and without his conscious doing, Eddie finds himself stumbling a step backwards. Steve takes in the shock on his face and huffs.

“You're not,” he repeats, more calmly this time, and somehow it's even worse the second time around. “You don't get to- … fuck, Eddie, I dunno what you think this is, but we're not- … You're a customer. I serve you food, you pay me. You tip well, so I'm nice to you, but that's- … We are not friends. You don't get to worry about me, and you most definitely do not get to tell me what to do or not to do with my body, okay?”

Silence settles between them. Somewhere outside, the sound of sirens slices through the night.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I'm- … okay.”

Steve nods. His breath is coming in ragged little puffs.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Good. Thanks for helping me out.”

Panic clawing at his chest, Eddie watches how he turns, picking up the bag with his roller skates from the floor. He wants to shout out, wants to tell Steve not to leave, wants to lunge and hold him back and never let him go again.

But he can’t. This is not a date. They’re not friends. Steve isn’t his, and he can't tell him what to do, can't protect him, can't do anything but pay him for his service and hope that-

“Wait.”

The word is out before the thought fully settles. Steve turns on the threshold of the living room, eyes weary and tired.

“What?”

Eddie doesn't allow himself time to pause. If he did, he'd think about what a horrible idea this is, and he doesn't have time to second-guess himself now.

“How much do you make with that little side hustle of yours?”

Steve shrugs.

“Depends? I have a couple of regulars, but-” He cuts himself off and Eddie can see how he reels himself back in, how his shoulders go rigid and his expression closes off. “Why should I tell you?”

“Because I'll double it.” Eddie means to sound bold and confident, but he nearly barrels over himself in his haste to get the words out, and his voice cracks pathetically on the last syllables. A disbelieving little smile twitches over Steve’s face.

“You'll what?”

“Double it,” Eddie repeats, more firmly this time. He finally finds the use of his feet again, bridging the distance between them with a few quick steps. Steve’s smile drops. “No, screw this, I'll triple it. You want me as a customer, I'll be your goddamn customer. On one condition.”

Steve's shoulders bump against the doorframe as Eddie steps into his space. For a second or two, Eddie thinks he's going to bolt - run right out the front door and into the darkness, maybe disappear from Eddie’s life forever. But he stays. Stays close enough for Eddie to see how his breath hitches in his throat. Close enough for Eddie to see the temptation in those gold-flecked eyes.

He knows he has won before he even says it, and it fills him with a grim, possessive satisfaction. He's probably a horrible person for it.

“I want this to be an exclusive deal.”

To be continued ...

Tag list: @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon @steddhie

@formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #a stranger summer #upside diner au

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blogthebooklover · 8 months

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30 Things I Learned As An Adult

In honor of me turning 30 in January, I’ve decided to write out a list of 30 things I learned as an adult. Now, some of these worked for me through trial and error, while others did not.

1. Self Care Is Important

I cannot stress this enough. We all need to practice self care, to take time for ourselves. It takes baby steps to find a good self-care routine, and there’s plenty of online resources to find one to your tastes. Remember it is all about trial and error, and don’t worry about perfecting it right away. Research some different self care routines online as a starting point.

2. Read Books, Not Fanfiction

Okay, don’t get me wrong, I do love reading some good ole fanfiction, and current events. However, definitely pick up a book once in a while. Whether it’s a graphic novel, comics, manga, please develop a reading habit. It definitely helped me out a lot as a former college dropout, there are reading lists on sites like Goodreads, here on Tumblr, even colleges have lists what books students are required to read. And it does help with expanding your knowledge and vocabulary. As I’ve previously said, I’m a former college dropout who’s currently back in school, however, developing a healthy reading habit is what kept me grounded. If you need a starting point, I recommend reading a fiction book, preferably in the SciFi/Fantasy genre; or reread a book from your childhood. Also, PLEASE GET A LIBRARY CARD! You’ll definitely be saving a lot of money, and we need to support our public libraries now more than ever.

3. Say “No” More Often

If you don’t feel comfortable going out, or if your manager calls and asks to cover a shift, just say “no.” Remember, you have the power to set boundaries, especially with family, friends, and work. This correlates to number 1 on my list, self care is super important, and you cannot put your health at risk for anyone. I’m going to repeat that last part: SELF CARE IS SUPER IMPORTANT, AND YOU CANNOT PUT YOUR HEALTH AT RISK FOR ANYONE!

4. Register To Vote, And Vote In Every Election

With politics being so polarized and divisive in the past decade, and the upcoming 2024 US Presidential Election, please register to vote. And voter suppression has been very rampant in the past two, arguably three, decades. To anyone about to turn 18 here in the US, please register to vote ASAP! And vote in every goddamn election, both national and local. I seriously cannot stress this enough.

5. Eat Healthy, No Seriously

I love some fast food once in a while now, however, please take some time to learn about healthy eating. It will catch up with you in the future, and our US healthcare system is already fucked as all hell. I know the rising costs of everything, including food, is insane right now; but please keep informed about how to prepare good healthy food.

6. Take Breaks From Current Events, Social Media, and the Internet

This also correlates with number one. While it is very important to stay informed with what is happening in the world/country of origin; especially with the US Presidential Election year. Remember, it’s okay to take breaks from reading too much news, and scrolling through social media feeds. It really does have an effect on your mental health, and unfortunately too many people tend to fall down the conspiracy theory rabbit hole on all sides of the political spectrum. To the teenagers and young adults, take breaks and focus on your mental health and well-being. To the adults, read the previous sentence. With everything so polarizing, take care of yourself first.

7. High School Friends DO NOT LAST!

My friends from high school and early college years were definitely the “ride and die” type of friends, metaphorically speaking. If you have that one friend who was/is the “give the shirt off their back” type, check in on them once in a while. However, with the former, just move on. The friends I had in high school definitely had a lot of childhood trauma, and in one aspect, I’m glad that they were honest about it; it was/is a way to heal. However, any “friend” who just doesn’t want to better themselves and use you for any convenience, DUMP THEM AND CUT OFF ALL CONTACT! Remember just as you set boundaries with your toxic family members, and even for your job, you should do the same with friends.

8. Change Jobs, ASAP!

This is a very important one. I didn’t really have a job as a teenager, I wanted to enjoy being a kid for a little longer, however, I did have an occasional babysitting job. At 23 years old, I got a job at a fast food place. While I do appreciate part of the experience, like how to use the “customer service” voice, however, any red flags that pop up in your head, change jobs, ASAP! It was toxic, too political (for some weird reason) and a lot of drama (and not from the teenagers). The grocery store I work at now does have its busy times, however, it’s much more calmer, and I don’t see too many “Karen” types.

9. Declutter More Often

This is also a definite must as you get older. Whatever you don’t need anymore, donate them. Whatever is completely broken, throw it away! Whatever it is that is in good condition, sell it or maybe give it to someone as a birthday/holiday present. Any old makeup, throw it away! It’ll help reduce the amount of clutter and mess. If you need a starting point, I suggest the KonMari method. It really did help me out a lot.

10. Use A Planner

This is a life-and-time saver. Write down any appointments, cleaning days, paydays, bill charges, etc.; into a physical planner. If you’re in college, please use one! And write down any assignments to work on/turn in BEFORE the deadline. Also, anything important, put into your calendar app on your phone and laptop as a reminder.

11. Have A Skin Care Routine

Okay, I know having a skin care routine isn’t for everyone, and we all have different reactions to skin care products; however, don’t be afraid to experiment with a good skin care routine. In my early teen years, I used Proactiv skin care for my acne, and it helped out a lot. Remember: cleanse, tone, any serum of your choice, and moisturize. This also helps out if you don’t feel like jumping into the shower. Also, use sunscreen, seriously.

12. Don’t Get Married, Until You’re Ready

This is coming from someone who is single, lol. If you plan on getting married to your romantic partner, I’m proud of you! Marriage is about communication, being honest, and doing equal amount of work (finances, household chores, etc.) Save money if you’re planning for a wedding, or go to your local courthouse to get a marriage license if you don’t want the big, fancy reception.

13. Don’t Have Kids, Until You’re Ready

Again, this is coming from someone who is single and childless, lol. Having kids is a lot of work: physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially. Not everyone is capable of being a parent, and I have read PLENTY of posts on here and other websites about toxic parents/parenting styles. Take time and think about if you’re ready to become a parent.

14. Learn How To Budget Your Money

This is for anyone of any age out there. Please learn how to budget your spending. Look for stuff on sale or clearance, or cut back on certain types of spending. I know most people have no idea where to start, but there is! There’s some great websites and YouTube channels on how to budget your money. Another great tool to use are spreadsheets like Microsoft Excel or Google Sheets. I use a Google Sheet template to help track my spending and budget my finances. Also, if you have gift cards from your birthday/holidays/etc; definitely use them, you won't be breaking your bank account :). Also, definitely have some paper cash in your wallet for emergency use.

15. Open A Savings/Emergency Funds Account, ASAP!

This is a huge one to have as an adult, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. Anything left over from paying the bills, from a side hustle, or from your tax returns, put that into savings. Certain banks will also have the option of creating “financial goals” in savings accounts; so I highly recommend using that as well. This also correlates with number 14. If you’re interested, open two or three savings accounts, the last one should only be for emergency funds.

16. Get A Physical Hobby, AKA Exercise!

It doesn’t matter what type of exercise you do, please do it! And for anyone who is physically disabled, there are modified options provided on YouTube. We do lose certain motor functions as we age, so definitely pick an exercise that’s right for you, as they say. Even if it's just going outside for a walk for 30 minutes, please do some type of exercise.

17. Learn How To Meal Prep

It doesn’t have to be for every meal of every day, pick a meal you want to make and prepare ahead of time. And prepare that meal the day before, so it will be on hand when you leave your house. There are some great videos on YouTube, and some ideas from Pinterest if you need a starting point.

18. If You’re Able To, Go To The Dentist!

Seriously though, try and go for a checkup/teeth cleaning. You’re only given one set of teeth after all your baby teeth fall out, and you need to take good care of them. If you’re able to, or live near to one, local colleges have free cleanings through their dental training programs.

19. If Your Job Offers a 401K, GET ON IT NOW!

My old job at a fast food restaurant didn’t have retirement benefits, but my current grocery store job does. I jumped on it right away, even if it’s not the job I want right now. And it’s a good starting point to have some money saved up for retirement. If you leave the job that has a 401k, you can do what's called a rollover. This will put the money that was set into the first retirement fund into another one; you can do this with your bank or if your new job has a 401k.

20. If You Don’t Have Health Insurance, Sign Up With The State, or Through Your Job.

In my experience, I have insurance through the state at the moment. If your job offers health insurance as well, jump on it right away, even if it’s not the job you want, it’ll be a starting point that correlates with number 19.

21. It’s Okay To Not Go To College

This is coming from someone who was a college dropout at 19, and currently back in school. If you don’t feel ready to go to college, that’s okay too. College is very expensive, especially here in the US, and not everyone can get a scholarship, even if they did apply for a lot of them. Maybe get a part-time job or two (for some income), explore some hobbies you enjoy, and take some time to think about some goals.

22. If You’re In College, It’s Okay To Stay At Home

Again, coming from a former college dropout, I stayed at home while attending a nearby community college in another state. However, out-of-state tuition and housing is also very expensive. If you have a good relationship with your parents, and if you’re going to school in-state, talk to them about staying home while going to school. If you don’t, then talk to a trusted friend or family member about getting an apartment together that isn’t on-site housing while you’re attending school.

23. Watch Non-English Language Movies

If you’re a movie lover like me, take some time to watch some foreign language films once in a while; and I know we anime fans do, lol. To be honest, it does get very boring watching English language films all the time, whether from the States, England, or Canada. Watching foreign language movies will definitely help you to understand the world a lot better, if you don’t have the means for traveling yet; and they will help you to understand that no matter where we live, we all have similar issues, hopes, dreams, etc. If you need a starting point, I recommend any of the Studio Ghibli movies, I would start with Kiki’s Delivery Service; or Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth.

24. SET BOUNDARIES

Remember: toxic family members and friends are not worth it. You are worthy and valid for love and respect. This correlates to number 7. This is also very useful in the workplace.

25. Express Yourself Through Fashion

Like everyone else, I feel most comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt myself; however sometimes I like to dress up just for fun, or to build up my self esteem and image. This also helps when learning to pair an accessory with an outfit. Play around with different color palettes and clothing styles, and find the one you feel the most “you.” For example, I’ve always looked my best in jewel tones and a cooler color palette. Read some fashion articles or watch some YouTube videos about how to pick out an outfit.

26. It Is Not Selfish To Prioritize Yourself

This correlates with number 3. I have noticed it’s mostly a Western/American/Christian culture norm, we’re always told to take care of others before taking care of ourselves; or we’re selfish for prioritizing ourselves over others. It is not selfish, it is part of self care. Again, this is tied in with number 24.

27. Failing and Making Mistakes Is Part of Growing

There is so much societal pressure on trying to be successful in life and work, especially in the Western/American hemisphere. However, making mistakes and failing at something is part of growing, and learning as an individual.

28. It's Okay to Not Have a Label to Define Yourself

Hear me out. I understand the use of labels in society and culture in general; everyone wants to belong somewhere and feel accepted. However, it is okay to not have a label to define who you are, and who you want/choose to be. Take all the time you need to figure out what's best for you. And sometimes people don't realize a label will fit them until they are much older in life. Or they couldn't at the time.

29. Don't Compare, You'll Get There

We are human, and we all have the tendency to compare ourselves to others. Unfortunately, this doesn't end after high school and college. And that needs to seriously change, especially in the Western/American hemisphere. Simply writing down "don't compare, you'll get there" is a great reminder to have for yourself. Everyone learns and grows at their own pace.

30. It Really Is The Little Things That Keep Us Going

When life seems to get too hard, it really is the little things that keep us going. Whether it is something as simple as someone holding a door open for you, or someone complimenting* you on your outfit or your work ethic; those moments are the ones that matter the most. Remember those moments, hold on to them.

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callsignvenomcod · 9 months

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a soft life

Prompt: Retired! Simon Riley. A slow life in a Manchester farm.

warning: mentions of PTSD, mentions of cartel related violence, mentions of violence, MDNI.

PS: Opening line is from the book "Jarhead" (2001) by Anthony Swofford.

______________________________________________________________

A story.

A man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war. And afterwards he returns the rifle in at the armory, and he believes he's finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands, love a woman, build a house, change his son's diaper; his hands remember the rifle.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

For a long time, it was hard to convince himself he deserved to grow old. It might have been a given fact to some other people but not for those in the military, not for Ghost, at least; not after Tommy and Beth, or Las Almas or Johnny. It took him a lot of time to be grateful to be almost 40. For several reasons, he never saw himself living past 20.

And now he was opening up the crates of the chickens he kept in his very own farm, a piece of land he actually owned, without a mask on, very far away from the bullet sounds and a barrack, from the mud and the camo, away from everything and everyone, not sound in the horizon but the chickens and Riley, the border collie dog he got, barking at a three somewhere in the distance.

He retired the summer he turned 40, there was a ceremony and everything, with Laswell and Price and he got more chest candy that would eventually end up in a wooden chest, never to be seen again, under the bed. There wasn't a reason, he just had to. He was in his prime, physically, but his mind was made of glass lately, everything rubbed him the wrong way, couldn't even train recruits without snapping too hard at them, making them quit, yell at them too much, scare them too much, beat them up to a pulp too much.

Every man in the military had a story. A life before, a life after. And in the middle, sand, or mud, or just camo. A war that last years, a mission that lasts hours. Silence and nosie.

He, like other recruits, like other Sergeants, Lieutenants, Colonels, had shadows over them. It took months for him to stop looking over his shoulder while doing the big shop on a sunday, started going to those overnight groceries store to shop alone instead. The butcher's reminded him both of his adolescence and the carnage he had caused, flinched whenever he saw a mohawk kid walking down the street, looked twice sometimes only to find a stranger.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets, aye.

He turned in his paperwork and retired silently with lots of medals under his name, lots of dead men and probably women under his knife, missing friends, missing nerves and too scarred to be a model now. Ha.

Oh, and Y/N's wanted to get away at some point anyway.

Y/N. The last drink he never should have had, the cut that made him hide his face, and the party that made him feel his age. Pulp's words, not his. All it took was a few nights shopping at the Tesco she was working in as a cashier, late night shift, for them to become acquainted.

A year of mutual pinning, a single night in which Y/N placed the bourbon bottle and the batteries inside of the paper bag and looked up at Simon, change in hand (because he paid in cash always, no traces behind) and smiled at him. COVID had made it easier to transition from the skull balaclava to a medical mask and then to a bare face, so Simon looked at her behind the black medical mask and stared at her while she opened her mouth.

-Why do bees have sticky hair?

Simon blinked, looking down at her. -Pardon?

No line behind him. It was the first time the cashier talked to him other than "Goodnight" and "Drive safe", or "It will be 5.66, please". There was a faraway sound of some sort of 80's American pop music, something to pass time by. Simon had noticed her since the first time he came into this very same Tesco a few months ago, had noticed how she sang along whatever music was on, how her Tesco blue uniform looked too big on her, making her look insanely small and slinky. He noticed how she was always almost without a medical mask and whenever she used it, it was laced around her chin; he noticed short, clean nails, and a heart necklace over her chest, a pair of dazzling dove eyes, full hips, a belly.

He really noticed the full hips.

The girl fucking giggled and repeated. She must had a bit of Irish in her judging by the sound of her accent. Simon felt as awkward as a teenage boy in front of any girl ever -Why do bees have sticky hair?

The man shook his head, still confused, a quid in his hand.

-Because they use a honeycomb.

Ah, a woman after his own heart. Such a lame joke.

He snorted out a laugh.

It simply slipped and he memorized the name tag before grabbing his shopping bag and shaking his head, hearing her giggle behind him as he exited the store, and he came back two days later after convincing himself he needed two jars of red bean jam instead of the usual one.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

And now she sleeps here; and Simon had stared at her sleeping form wondering how much time it would take for her to start hating his way of loving, of being, how many times he would go silent on the phone, a bad texter, a worst caller, how he hated crowded places and loud noises and most of their dates happened in her flat, when her roommate was out, staring silently at a film on TV, her friends thinking she's getting her brains fucked out by an experienced, older, lust thirst Vet when in reality, Ghost was gathering up the courage to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

And now she sleeps here.

In the crook of his neck, his thigh over his hip, wild hair all over the bed, sometimes inside his mouth because he stopped using a mask a while ago.

In the mornings, tangled in their bed, warm sheets, the soft breeze of Riley sleeping under the bed, her sweet sweat and vanilla scented skin under his, it took Simon a few seconds to realize he was sleeping in the company of someone; in the arms of a woman and in his own bed, a king size bed with soft white sheets that were washed and changed every 5 days, not a twin bed in a barrack, that his years of active service were over, not forgotten, as if, but that he could allow himself to become whatever he might end up becoming if the 141 didn't happened.

-Come here, boy. Come here, Riley. Yeah, yeah...- said Simon scrunching down to caress right behind Riley's ear, the dog sticking out his long tongue and barking of joy mixed with the hyper sense of his breed, the soldier being careful not to break the eggs he held in a small basket. Simon had found him a puppy a few months ago, seemed like years really, in a litter box with 6 of his brothers and sisters, a beat-up cardboard sign reading "For adoption." And Simon picked up the only one with a lazy ear. He knew deep down that Y/N would appreciate that and simply put him in the passenger seat of the black Bronco truck he owned and drove all the way back home. -You're up early, eh? You having breakkie with us?

He had fallen into a comfortable routine now. He would wake up, crawl over Y/N's sleeping figure, careful not to wake her with the crack of dawn, 5AM with the BBC on his headphones, a 6'2 shadow jogging through the hills of the outskirts of Manchester, for an hour only the dark of the road, the eventual baby blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun. Sometimes Riley was up for it, sometimes he stood behind cuddled up in their room. And upon his return he would work out in their driveway for another hour, noticing the growing presence of what the media now called a "Dad Bod" (Y/N's words, not him) and eventually hearing soft barefoot steps coming from the room.

There was tea for two before he had to head out, get some tasks done, and a soft kiss hanging from Y/NS plush lips, and he would always try to push it, try his luck. He would smile against it, whispering "Good morning..." with a lazy voice, hands on Y/N's full hips, kneading them, in need of them, and Simon would press up with hard on against her stomach, while deepening the kiss.

It never failed to make her wet. It never failed to make her forget the kettle on the fire for a minute and simply give into his kiss, his embrace; him, overall. Simon would pick her up, easily, laid her on the counter, and her robe would open for him, with or without his help, and she was always so wet for him, so ready to do it.

-Simon...- she will say. - Breakfast...

And he wasted no time into twisting her words, dropping to his knees as if he was in the presence of a saint, of a virgin, of the end of the world, staring at her glistening cunt first thing in the morning, looking up with the adoration she deserved; she would gulp and argue it was not what she meant but she would recoil and whimper when Simon stuck his tongue inside his cunt anyway, overlapping her folds, blissfully eating her out before the sun was completely out.

The dog kept barking all the way down to the house, past the barn and the driveway, the small stable with the one horse they had, the pen he was building to eventually own sheep, and Simon felt the cold breeze of the early morning seeping through his black knit sweater and his jean jacket, as he walked all the way across the grass fields and into his porch, the swinging chair Y/N liked to read in, in a need of a reparation.

-Right...- he whispered to himself seeing the hammer he left outside to remind himself to fix the damn chair, bloody hell. Riley's nose peeked through the front door, opening it with ease and technique allowing themselves in, and the cold of the outside world was quickly gone.

Simon stepped into a cozy home, with a color palette he would have never picked, all warm yellows and oranges, pinks and whites, and soft cushions, warm blankets, a picknick turntable in the coffee table; and music, soft music he didn't recognize coming from it, a spinning record on it with yellow and pink lyrics, a girl signing about a loved one, and another voice, a present one, horribly trying to sing along.

He snorted out a laugh when Riley started barking and the voice was interrupted abruptly.

-Simon?...- Radio silence. -Babe?

Oh, the sound of his name in her mouth.

He crossed his living room, stepping into the kitchen, holding four eggs in a small bowl, one from each hen they owned, and he stood in the door frame, just a tad taller than him, admiring the view. He had endured white missions in the Russian winter, literal months of the gruesome torture and gory tasks and they all suddenly made sense because there was a girl.

Ah, there was a girl, alright.

Today was English breakfast. No peas for him, no sausages for her. It was stereotypical but easy to make and no one was around to judge them anyway. Next house was a few miles down the road, and even the road was far away, the town was a 30-minute ride. It was their little bit of heaven. The man stepped in, handing her the basket like every other day and kissed her temple, as she grilled some tomatoes slice ups leaning back against him. His hands would find her hips again and she would yawn with intimacy, hair still a mess, thighs still sticky. -Teas on the table, love. It's gone get cold.

-Ah, it's alright...- he said, hugging her tightly, as she kept leaning on him. -Slow morning today, eh...

She had been there and stuck around whenever the PTSD started acting up. She was the one that loved him when he started going fucking mental; and stuck around when she found her burning up SAS gear, a lost look in his eyes as he did so. He would throw in a Ghost mask and watch it burn for a moment, before murmuring a shocked sob and reaching out into the flames to retrieve it. She stuck around while he drank too much bourbon sitting on the porch, skull mask on, his dogs' tags held so tightly his knuckles will go white with force. Y/N even stuck around when the nightmares came, and she would wake up to Ghost whimpering on his side of the bed, breaking a cold sweat, his jaw tight and her brows furrowed, screaming out "Johnny! Johnny!" before waking up in tears, in raged hot tears down his cheeks, short of breath, his head a full of bullet noises and sirens wailings, pictures of his team and the blood and the grease paint. A mess. A shaking shadow.

Every October 11, she will make sure to hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little softer, love him, if it was possible, a little louder.

And she was here now, cooking breakfast, no peas for him; now he was living a soft life, with tea every morning, and a dog named Riley, with soft hands that wondered around his chest whenever he thought about Soap too much, about Gaz and that helo. But she was here now, and she had no sausages today, as they sat down on their small chair in their small kitchen in their small farm. He was living a soft life, and he didn't think of himself as worthy of it, but he must have been done something good to have her cooking breakfast and sleeping in their bed and caressing their dog under the table.

Tomorrow, Ghost would ask her to come out to the porch to find her reading swing fixed and a wedding ring.

She's going to say yes.

He didn't heard the bullets anymore.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Venom here.

Thank you so much to anyone that's been liking my story.

Happy 2024!

#simon riley #cod headcanons #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost cod #modern warfare #mw2

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lokilaufeysonslove · 1 month

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝!𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝!𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // your parents were never kind and sweet type of people, but in your sixth year things got out of hand. To put a cherry on top, a certain platinum blond haired Slytherin Prince decided to be Sherlock Holmes and found out your secrets, ones nobody is supposed to know.

// Warnings // mentions of violence, both physical and verbal violence, abusive parents, bullying, hate towards reader, ignorance, name calling (princess in a mocking way, shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time), reader has a backstory, suicidal thoughts, reader has an attempt of suicide, crying, talk about past.

// Author’s Note // please pay attention to warnings! I don’t write about Draco usually, but I couldn’t get idea out of my mind, so I just went with it. This is enemies to lovers. Also, I have mentioned once that reader is 16, but for the sake of this plot, since every sixth year is 16. This is a part two, please read part one first! / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @talesfromthecrypts

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 in progress

Few months had passed since the first day of Hogwarts. Things with your family were getting worse each day. You received letters from them on a daily basis, all of them saying how much of a disappointment and waste of time you were. You felt as if you were a piece of trash. Your mother made sure of it.

You became lonely, quite literally. You were studying during the day, and sleeping or just thinking at nights. Sometimes you would even sneak out in the Astronomy Tower late at nights, just to be alone.

Hermione, Harry and Ron became concerned, but you were shrugging them off and keeping your distance. Harry, being the Sherlock Holmes he was, became suspicious and tried everything to get you to say something, but you were mastered in hiding and keeping secrets.

Little did you know that a certain platinum blond haired boy was growing suspicious as well.

One day, you were sitting in the library, pretending to read, but all you could think of, was a letter your mother has sent you earlier that day, which was laying innocently on the table in front of you. Shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time. You were sick and tired of those words, you just wanted to get rid of them, but they kept wandering inside your head, never leaving.

You heard footsteps approaching you, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. You looked up to be met with Malfoy, Goyle and Zabini. Again, something was wrong with the Slytherin Prince. He was quiet, it seemed like he wasn’t the one who was leading the latter two.

Goyle walked forward and leaned on the table with his elbows. He looked at the letter and took it in his hands. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted by standing up and snatching the letter out of his hands harshly.

“If you’re going to tell me how much of a shame and disgrace I am, don’t waste your time. Believe me, you don’t have to. I have already been told that more than enough times.” You said without thinking and immediately regretted it. Your voice was quiet, but firm. You turned around and walked out of the library.

The three boys looked at each other with the same expression that said ‘what the hell did just happen’. Neither understood what happened. This only caused one of them to grow even more suspicious.

Christmas was approaching. Everyone was happy, happy to spend time with their families, happy to spend time with their loved ones. Everyone except you. You didn’t want to go home, no, not home, your parents’ manor. You wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but you would get into a huge trouble, and getting in trouble with your parents wasn’t very… pleasant.

You were sitting in the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor house table, when Harry approached you, a little hesitantly.

“Hey,” he started softly, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

You were fighting the urge to roll your eyes, “Yes Harry, I am fine, really. Don’t worry.” You gave him the fakest smile ever, and he bought it.

But Malfoy didn’t… he was watching from afar.

The letters your parents sent you every day and night were very shitty. That’s how you ended up in Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory, sobbing your eyeballs out. You were leaning against the sink, looking in the mirror and sobbing uncontrollably while Myrtle told you that everything would be fine.

“No Myrtle, nothing will be fine. Ever.” You said in the middle of sobs.

“Talk to your parents then.” Myrtle said in her dreamy, high-pitched voice.

You laughed bitterly at her statement, your voice coming out loud and harsh, a maniacal sound that would make a person wince. “Talk to my parents? Oh, but they are the very reason why I am sobbing the shit out of myself right now Myrtle. Do you know how they treat me? Can you even imagine the pain they put me through? Let me guess. No! You don’t! You can’t! Has your father ever beat you until you were bleeding?! Has your mother ever used Cruciatus curse on you?! And that’s because of this whole pureblood supremacy shit! Because of the house you are put in! I am tired Myrtle, tired of standing strong for 16 goddamn years! I deserve some break.” You said, rising your voice every time you would swear.

It was crystal clear that Myrtle was shocked, “Talk to your friends, or your headmaster then. That is abuse, it needs to stop.”

“I can’t! If I say a word about this, they will most definitely kill me. I don’t give two shits if I die, no. I just don’t want to be killed by them! And about friends, I do not have any. And do you know why? Because I can’t have any! I don’t want to put any of my friends in danger or be put in danger because of them!” You looked in the mirror, then lowered your head once again and started crying.

After few minutes of brutal silence and your quiet sobs, you looked up and wiped away your tears with the palms of your hands.

“You know what,” you started, looking at Myrtle, “do you know how high the Astronomy Tower is?”

Myrtle looked really confused now, “Why?”

“Oh, just wanted to go up there, gaze at the sky, but I have a terrible fear of highs, you see…”

It was a lie, of course, but Myrtle bought it. After all, parents like yours were good at rising flawless liars.

“It’s high, indeed, but I don’t think you will be scared. Platform is huge.”

You faked a sad smile and thanked her, “Thank you, I’ll see you soon.” You walked out of the bathroom. “Or not.” You mumbled to yourself, thinking nobody heard you. But someone did. This someone being very annoying Draco Lucius Malfoy.

He spied on you the whole time and to make matters even worse, he heard every single word you said. So, obviously, he followed you.

When you reached the Astronomy Tower, you headed straight towards the edge and looked out.

“Oh my god, what am I doing?!” You asked yourself out loud.

You slightly leaned forward, when two strong arms cuffed your wrists and turned you around. A soft gasp escaped from your mouth at this sudden action. However, you were shocked when you saw who did this.

Draco Fucking Malfoy

“What the hell?! Were you actually planning to jump out of there?!” He asked. But what confused you more was the anger latched on his face.

“Why do you care?” You asked in a quiet tone.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were going to commit suicide!” his voice was firm and stern, but dripping with sarcasm at the same time.

“Yeah, but why do you care?! Not that we’re friends or anything. You have been making my life miserable since the day I stepped my foot in the Great Hall for the first time, and now you care all of a sudden?!” You hissed through gritted teeth, your voice coming out venomous, a bit louder this time. You didn’t know why, but him being angry at you for attempting to end your life, for attempting to end all this pain and leave this hell forever, made you angry too. He was one of the people who made you hate your life, made you hate yourself, and now he was suddenly scolding you for trying to end it all. You didn’t know why, but it made you boil with anger.

What made you even angrier was that he didn’t say anything, he just stood there, looking down at the cold floor of the tower, completely silent. Why do you care?! Your voice echoed in his head, sounding louder and louder every second. Why did he care? You were right. He had been making your life a living hell since the day one, he had been the one to approach you for no reason and call you the most insulting, disgusting, and horrible words ever. He had been the one to make fun of you in front of everyone and make you feel insanely insecure. After all the things he did, why did he care? Maybe it was guilt eating him out, maybe he didn’t ever realize how much you were hurting, how much you were going through, until very now. But for some reason, he felt bad, he felt defeated, and he hated every second of it.

You were tired, exhausted by stress, crying and all the emotions. You were feeling nauseous. You wanted to drop down and pass out for hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries. You didn’t care, you just wanted to disappear, vanish. You were weak, too weak, but you still stood there, watching at young man in front of you, who was staring down at his shoes like a child who broke a vase, waiting for him to look up. Under any other circumstances it would be almost cute, but not now. Not when you were about to end your life, not when the boy in front of you was a boy who played a big part in your decision.

Silence was brutal. None of you saying a word, waiting for the other to speak up. Waiting for the other to say something, anything. You stood there, glaring at him like a mother glares at her son when she grounds him.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you broke the silence by chuckling. But it was not the funny type of chuckle. No, it was bitter, venomous, painful chuckle. Anyone would hear the pain in your voice, anyone would see the pain in your eyes, pain was the only thing that radiated from you. It always had been.

“That’s what I thought.” You said and sighed deeply, “Listen Malfoy, forget about everything, and I mean everything you heard and witnessed today. And don’t you dare say a word about this to anyone.” You said and walked past him and down the stairs, your shoulder brushing against his.

He still didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do. He knew he couldn’t tell anyone, anyway. This was the pureblood family you were talking about. Rules are different there. Finally, he shook himself out of his trance and walked down the steps, trying to be as quiet as possible, since it was already past curfew and the last thing he wanted was Filch catching him.

Slytherin common room was expectedly empty. He was positive he would fall into a deep sleep the moment his head would hit the pillow, but he couldn’t go to his dorm just yet. He was still thinking about what happened just few minutes ago. As much as he wanted to forget it, he couldn’t. Can you even imagine the pain they put me through? He could never have imagined that you were going through this much. Let me guess. No! You don’t! You can’t! Yes, he couldn’t. Has your father ever beat you until you were bleeding?! And here he thought his father was the most horrible person. Has your mother ever used Cruciatus curse on you?! He could never even think of his mother being that brutal. And that’s because of this whole pureblood supremacy shit! Because of the house you are put in! I am tired, tired of standing strong for 16 goddamn years! I deserve some break. You were right, you really did deserve some break.

He felt horrible, he felt disgusted by your parents, he felt bad for you. Oh, come on Draco! Why do you feel bad?! She probably deserves that.

His brain said all of this rubbish, but his heart seemed to disagree. It screamed loudly, louder than his brain, You pathetic little idiot! How can you say that?! No live being deserves that, not even a cockroach!

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize how he ended up on the emerald green couch in front of a lit fireplace. He dropped his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Taking deep breaths, he began to relax a little. He looked up and stared down at fire, warm and welcoming, yet roaring and dangerous. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. Maybe for few minutes, maybe even hours. But he didn’t care. All he could think of right now were you.

He didn’t know why he had a sudden urge to help you, he didn’t know why he had the sudden urge to just hold you until your sobs would calm down. He had never felt this way. It confused him. He never cared about you, but for some reason, hearing your cries made his heart shatter into many pieces. If it were any other person, he would feel sorry for them, he would pity them, but this was definitely not pity. This was… he didn’t know either. But it felt strange.

Standing up, he took one last deep breath and headed towards his dorm room, where he could finally get his long awaited sleep.

#tw: abuse #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x abused!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #x reader #x female reader #fem reader #harry potter #harry potter universe #potterverse

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