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lives-between-lines · 3 days

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With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - poly!marauders x slytherin!reader

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Summary: Preparing for the dreaded OWLs proves to be a difficult task for one tightly-wound Slytherin. How do Remus, James, and Sirius each offer assistance, and how does she handle it?

Notes: No Voldemort, but pureblood elitism is still very much a thing. Story starts at the end of the Marauders and Reader’s fifth year. I don’t know the most about all the Marauders Era headcanons so I kind of did what I wanted, sorry if you don’t like it.

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~7.8k

p.1

─

I huffed as I reached for another heavy book on the shelf from one of the dark back corners of the library. I wasn’t in the restricted section just yet, but getting close to it. Between the weight of the other five books stacked in my arm and the height of the shelf I was trying to reach I nearly dropped them all.

“Careful, there, Princess. Might break something lugging around all those books,” someone said next to me. I nearly jumped as I hadn’t noticed anyone come down this same aisle.

I shot a glare at him for startling me. It was none other than Remus Lupin, one of those pesky Gryffindors who was constantly fighting me for my space at the top of the class. My glare intensified when I realized who it was.

“Yes, and it would sure be a shame if I managed to drop these on your foot and break something there,” I snarked.

He looked amused at me. “Whoa, Princess, no need to get feisty with me. I was just going to offer my assistance.”

“And what kind of assistance should I accept from you when you’re just as likely to try and trick me?” Lupin gave me a weary look. Typical of Gryffindors to think everyone is as blindly trusting as them.

“No tricks, Princess, just offering a bit of help,” he said with a shrug.

“Would you stop that? Stop calling me that,” I snapped at him before turning back to the book I needed. Before I could make a second attempt to reach for it, Remus stepped up next to me and I froze. But then he grabbed the book for me and set it on top of my stack then took a step back.

“Not a fan of your nickname?” He was of course referring to me being known as Slytherin’s Princess. Sometimes I like to pretend the nickname came about because I’m always top of the class, making my house proud, but I know the real reason is because I come from a wealthy, pureblood, Slytherin family and everyone thought me rather spoiled.

“I am not some simpering girl in need of a man to save her and it’ll do good for the people in this school to remember that.” Despite his significant height, I lifted my chin to Remus Lupin and dared him to say otherwise.

“Of course, of course,” he agrees, nodding his head and holding up his hands. “But you are Slytherin’s Princess, aren’t you?” His eyes light up in amusement at my frustration.

My nostrils flare as I hold back my anger. It doesn’t do me any good to blow up at some stupid Gryffindor, not when that is exactly what he wants and I am not in the business of giving Gryffindors what they want.

Instead, I turn to walk away. Take the high-ground as they say.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Remus calls after me, quickly catching up to and following me. “Seriously, dove, I’m sorry. I was only joking. Please, let me help you with whatever on earth you could possibly need all these books for.”

I stop abruptly and turn toward him. “And why should I accept help from someone like you?” I nearly growl at him, barely holding back my frustrations.

Remus looks taken aback by my words. “Someone like me? You mean a half-blood?”

It’s my turn to be startled by him. “I mean a Gryffindor,” I bite out. This was exactly why I couldn’t stand this brutish group, they were always so quick to jump to outrageous assumptions, thinking the worst of someone like me just because I’m in Slytherin.

He looks relieved and confused at the same time, but I don’t really care to help him unpack his complex emotions about the exact reasoning behind why I don’t trust him.

I dump my books down onto the table I had claimed earlier and began to scour the table of contents in the first one. Uninvited, Remus took the chair next to me and began looking over my shoulder at the book.

“Can I help you, Lupin? Or are you just interested in being a nuisance?”

“I’m glad to be a nuisance any day, but as I’ve said before I was actually hoping to help you.”

“And as I’ve said before I’m not looking for any help.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Is that this close to our OWLs you’re scouring books for something that you think you’ve missed, but you’ve been at the top of our classes all year, so I highly doubt you’ve managed to miss anything of real importance.” I give him a confused look, trying to discern how he’s figured me out so easily. Except he’s wrong, of course, I did somehow manage to lose the year a specific herb was realized to have certain medicinal properties. “So now I’m trying to answer the question of what does little miss Slytherin Princess think that she desperately needs to know, and will that really be the determining factor in her score on her OWLs?”

I glance around to make sure no one else is listening to me admitting defeat in front of a Gryffindor. “I don’t have the year we began to use hyssop to treat earaches,” I murmur.

Remus’s face seems to fall at my admission. “That’s what you’re so concerned about? A minor herb’s medicinal use? Not even that, you already know that, but what year that was discovered? That is such a niche detail, there is absolutely no way Sprout asks us that.”

I roll my eyes. “Obviously Sprout’s not going to ask us about that, it’s Binns that I’m worried about,” I explain. Although I really shouldn’t be giving my enemy any help in preparing for our upcoming tests. I was just as desperate to best him on these tests as I’m sure he was me.

“Binns?” He asks, outraged. “Binns would never ask about that in a million years.”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that. We had a lecture on the history of medicinal herbs, hyssop was one of them.”

“And so you really think that from that one lecture he’s going to ask us when hyssop was discovered to help with earaches?”

“I was reviewing my notes and I had written down the year but it got smudged.”

“You’re actually a raving lunatic,” Remus tells me. He looks around the library like he might get up and leave, but then he turns back to me. “I realize these are the most important tests of the year, but I think you have way overestimated the difficulty of the questions that will be on them.”

“And I think you can never be too safe.”

We hold each other’s gaze for several moments. Remus finally blinks and then sighs. “Confound it all, fine. Hand me one.” He holds his hand out expectantly.

I stare at him, confused.

“Well? Are we going to look for this blasted year or not?” I blink out of my stupor and hand him one of the books I had grabbed.

We sit in silence for a long while, pouring over the texts. The only sound in this part of the library is us turning pages. The first book I look through doesn’t contain my answer, and neither must the book Remus has. Although I am tempted to go back later and double check he didn’t find it and not tell me in an effort to trick me.

After I get through two more books and Remus goes through three, I can’t stop myself from asking the question that had been nagging in the back of my head the entire time.

“Why exactly are you helping me? Surely you’d much rather be focused on your own studying.”

Remus slowly pulls his attention away from the book in front of him. He blinks at me and then furrows his brows. “Sorry, I know you said something, I just didn’t quite catch what,” he admits.

I can’t help the small laugh at his honesty. “Why are you helping me? I thought you’d want to be studying for your OWLs.”

“I am studying for my OWLs,” he replies, tauntingly. I roll my eyes at him.

“Come on, you know what I meant,” I push.

He shrugs and I think that’s going to be all the answer I get, then after a pause he says, “you’ve intrigued me. I’m curious now to find out when we started using hyssop for earaches.” There’s something about his tone that’s off, but I mark it down to him just teasing me. “Besides, I’m already plenty prepared to get a perfect score and take my spot at the top of the class.”

I laugh at his taunting. “Clearly not prepared enough if you’re not well versed in the history of hyssop,” I tease back.

He gives me a winning smile and something in my chest stutters at it. I must just be unsettled by his obviously false flattery.

“Can I ask you something in return?” He asks after a moment.

I consider him, then reply, “I don’t promise to answer, but you’re welcome to ask.”

He smiles again and this time it feels like my heart has been squeezed just a bit. “Well I suppose that’s fair. But are you always so…” he trails off and I get nervous at where he’s going with this. “Well, are you always so intense about knowing every little detail?” He finally finishes.

It must be relief that floods my veins when he doesn’t ask anything backhanded or rude. I actually give him a smile before glancing down at my lap.

“I have to be, don’t I? There’s one way to stay where I am and it’s by rigorous study,” I admit.

“Is it really so important to stay at the top that you have to obsess like this, though?”

I think back to what happened when I would slack off with my studies at home before coming to Hogwarts. I can’t help the way my face falls at the memories.

“I suppose it might not be so important to a Gryffindor, but success is a high priority in Slytherin,” I finally respond. It seems when I don’t know how to react I lash out, although Remus is lucky to have caught me in a good mood as I let him off rather easily.

Nonetheless he still looks a bit dejected by my response. I feel a bit bad for shutting him down when we had been starting to get along rather well.

“We should probably focus on the matter at hand, though, if we ever want to find our answer before curfew,” I say, returning to the book in front of me.

“Right…” Remus murmurs. Part of me expects him to leave at that point, after all that’s when everyone else does. He surprises me when he stays and doubles down his efforts.

I open my mouth, to say what I’m not entirely sure. I close my mouth again when I realize that I want to apologize. There’s no way that Remus wants some half baked apology from me.

Time passes in silence, the both of us occupied with our search, but my mind keeps wandering to the way I had snapped at Remus. I didn’t understand why he had sat down to help me, but I shouldn’t have antagonized him for asking a simple question. It wasn’t his fault that the answer wasn’t so simple.

I can’t help stealing glances of him every few minutes, which significantly hinders my speed in reading my book, but Remus doesn't seem to notice and I can’t get myself to stop. This means that I notice almost immediately when Remus freezes suddenly. I try not to react, not wanting to have been caught looking.

“Holy shit!” He nearly shouts, someone nearby shushes him loudly, but he’s too busy jumping out of his seat to mind. “Oh, Merlin’s beard I actually found it!” He whispers loudly this time and pumps his fist. Standing at his height above me while I sit next to him I have to strain my neck to look up at his face, but it’s such a beautiful sight with how excited he is.

“You mean you actually found the year?” I ask, matching his excitement.

He nods enthusiastically at me then points to the line of text that contains the answer we’d spent hours searching for. “Yes, yes, look! It’s right there.”

We celebrate as quietly as we can and I quickly jot down the information into my notes.

“Oh, thank you, Remus! You’ve just saved me probably three hours.” I stand to join him. It’s then that I finally check the time and realize just how close it is to curfew. “Ah, shit,” I murmur. “We should turn in for the night. I don’t fancy having a run-in with Filch tonight.”

“Let me walk you to your dorm?” Remus offers.

“What? It’s nearly curfew, you’ll risk getting in trouble with Filch. No, I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself to my dorms for the night,” I reply firmly.

“Don’t worry about me, dove, I can handle myself. Let me walk you to your dorm.” This time Remus sounds more like he’s telling me than asking me. Nevertheless I nod in agreement and we make our way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.

On the way down, Remus teases me lightly about how obsessed I must be to dedicate so much effort into finding such a small detail. I tease him back about him being a nerd for helping me look for the answer. It’s lighthearted and easy and part of me thinks I could get used to having Remus as a friend. Another part of me questions what it would look like for me to be friends with a Gryffindor and whether my parents would approve or not. Then the first part kicks the second part for being such a self-obsessed ass.

Just outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room I wave goodbye to Remus and wish him a good night. I try not to blush when he calls me “dove,” and dart into the safety of the common room.

─

The next few weeks Remus seems to make it a habit of running into me in the library when I would otherwise be alone. In the past I had tried studying with Narcissa or Andromeda but the pair of them had bad habits of wanting to chat while I wanted to actually study, so my time in the library had previously been spent alone.

Remus was different, though. He understood my desire to focus on the material in front of me and not whether or not his hair was looking frizzier than normal.

Before I knew it I had come to rather enjoy his company. It felt almost reassuring that there was someone else who was similarly interested in studying, but wanted to do it with me. Somehow it was like studying at the same table as him made studying that much better, even if nothing of substance had changed.

─

On a Saturday morning, a couple weeks before we were to begin taking our OWLs, I went out to the Black Lake just before the sun rose. I had slept fitfully, getting more and more nervous for the tests ahead of me. There was so much pressure to do good on these, I didn’t know what I would do if I were anything less than perfect.

I don’t know why exactly I came out here, I just knew that I needed fresh air. Without much else of a plan, I sat down at the trunk of a tree and pulled out my wand. I practiced a couple small charms and transfigurations on the branches and rocks around me.

“I’d say that rock doesn’t stand a chance against you, but I’d like to know what it did to deserve such treatment in the first place.”

I dropped the spell I had been using to propel the rock in the air and it fell swiftly. There likely wasn’t anyone in the school who I would not have been shocked to see, but I was especially shocked it was none other than James Potter. He’s a fairly popular boy my age in Gryffindor, mostly known for his outspokenness and disruptive behavior. If my memory serves me right, which it always does, he’s actually friends with Remus Lupin.

“What are you doing out here so early?” I can’t help but ask.

“I could ask the same of you,” he points out. I finally take him in at that moment. He’s wearing loose shorts and an old Gryffindor quidditch t-shirt that he’s cut the bottom half off to show off his athletic build. His curly hair is a mess atop his head, but I get the notion it’s always like that. When I meet his eyes I’m struck by how blue they are that I can notice even with him standing several feet in front of me. I can’t help but think to myself how pretty he is. He gives me a dorky smile, as if used to the attention but still not sure how to respond.

“Couldn’t sleep so well. Thought some fresh air would do me some good,” I finally answer, not acknowledging how I’d just been looking at him.

“Some fresh air and tormenting rocks?” He teases.

“Is that all you think we Slytherins do? Torment everything?” I huff.

His face twists at my response. “No, no that’s not what I meant at all. It was just a joke, most people laugh at them.”

I sigh and lean back against the trunk of the tree. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit on edge,” I admit, though I’m not sure why I feel the urge to open up to this next to perfect stranger.

James takes a few steps closer and I tense up, but he just takes a seat next to me under the tree. “What’s got you so on edge?”

“Is that another one of your jokes? The OWLs obviously.”

“Oh, right. I suppose those are coming up soon.” He pauses and tears some grass in front of him. “What’re you stressed over those for?”

My brows pinch together and I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “They’re only the most important tests of the entire school year, of our entire schooling career thus far! These will determine our entire futures.”

It’s James’s turn to look at me like I’m crazy. “They’re just another test, though. And I really don’t see how they’ll determine our entire futures,” he says plainly.

I scoff and roll my eyes. Leave it to a Gryffindor to blow off something so important.

“Look, I know you’ve got this whole thing about being perfect in every subject and staying ahead of everyone else, so I’ll make you a deal.” I turn to him, my interest piqued. “If you do any less than perfect on each of your OWLs, I’ll turn all the professor’s hair purple,” he offers.

My jaw drops at his suggestion. “What on earth would that accomplish?”

“Well I figure people won’t be talking about what grade you got on your OWLs if they’re too busy talking about Dumbledore with a lilac beard,” he’s laughing even as he says it. I laugh, too, at that image.

“Make it bright pink and I’ll help you,” I reply through giggles.

James gives me his award-winning dorky smile and I can’t tear my eyes away.

“Seriously, though, I’ll bet you’ve already gotten perfect scores on every other test this year, there can’t be anyone else more prepared than you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, not used to outright compliments that weren’t also an insult. My gaze falls to where James is still fiddling with the grass. “A bit antsy, are you?”

“Sorry,” he sighs, “I’ve been trying to work on that. I actually came out here to go for a run, it helps me burn some of my extra energy before the day so I can focus a bit better.”

I can’t imagine wanting to start the day by burning through energy, I often woke up with barely enough to make it through the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry to be keeping you. I can go back inside if you want to run by yourself,” I offer and even before I finish talking, I’m pushing to stand up.

“No, no you’re fine!” He’s quick to reassure me. “Please, stay. Actually if you want you could join me, it might help you clear your mind.”

I consider for a moment before deciding to agree. There couldn’t be much harm in it, it was still at least another hour before most people would get up for the day and I didn’t have anything better to do.

While we run I can’t help glancing over to James, who’s clearly in his own world.

The sun began to peak over the horizon, slowly illuminating our path. At one point the sun is behind James when I steal another glance at him, and the way the light catches on his features makes him look like a real life angel.

James proves to be right, the run did help me to clear my mind. When we stop back where we had started I’m feeling significantly lighter than before, even if I am breathing significantly heavier.

“That was… fun,” I am slow to admit. “Thank you, Potter.”

“Anytime, darling.” He gives me another goofy smile. “Feel free to join me whenever you like, I come out at the same time everyday.”

“I just might take you up on that.”

─

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I take James Potter up on his offer every day for a week straight. I quickly come to enjoy the ritual of it, waking up before dawn, sneaking out of my dorm, getting the fresh air and clearing my mind before the day.

James’s presence was a reassuring one, even if we didn’t always talk much. I had the sense that he would listen to anything I needed to say and offer encouragement.

As our OWLs loom ever closer I come to rely on our runs to center me in the mornings more and more, but I also question how long James will continue to let me join him. He never says anything to indicate he doesn’t want me to join, though, so I take him at face value and keep meeting him under our tree every morning.

─

The night before we’re to start our OWLs I find myself unable to sleep for even a minute. Of course this wasn’t a problem for my dorm mates who had fallen asleep at least two hours ago.

I toss and turn, thinking that maybe if I could just get comfortable I could get to sleep. Of course I have no such luck. Eventually I decide that drastic times call for drastic measures.

I don’t have to worry about being too quiet as I climb out of my bed, pull on a jumper, and slip on my sneakers. I’ve mastered this routine from sneaking out for my morning runs.

Two years prior Narcissa was sniffling and sneezing her brains out, but didn’t want to wake Madam Pomfrey for medicine. Andromeda insisted we could take care of her ourselves, she just needed a good, hot cup of tea to clear her system. I never knew where she learned it, but she showed me a way to slip into the kitchens undetected. She then showed me which cabinet to find the herbs in, and also which herbs were the right ones. And then she showed me how to use the kettle.

It was amazing how much better Narcissa was able to sleep after she finished her cup of tea, and the next day she was right as rain. I quickly became obsessed with the simple magic behind a “good cup of tea” and asked Andromeda to tell me everything she knew about the different recipes and ingredients. When her knowledge proved to be rather limited I went on a rampage in the library until I was satisfied─ a good two weeks later.

My plan was a simple blend to help me sleep and settle my nerves. Chamomile and cinnamon was sounding particularly tasty, although I was considering whether I might like lavender with rosemary more. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice at first there was already someone else in the kitchens. Thankfully when I did I only jumped a little.

Confused, I stared at Sirius Black as he took a kettle off one of the stoves. He gave me an amused look in return.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He guessed.

“No, I’m quite afraid not.”

He gave me a sad smile in understanding. “Have a seat, I’ll make you a cup,” he offered. I can’t say why I listened, but I did. Maybe in a moment of weakness before a highly stressful event I didn’t care that I didn’t know him much, I just wanted to let someone take care of me.

“Any preference on what kind?” He asks.

“Hmm, I was debating between chamomile with cinnamon or lavender with rosemary,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I proceed to list off my many thoughts on the benefits of each ingredient and what might best suit my current situation.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that Sirius has made a decision for me and already started steeping the herbs in the water. I’ve somehow veered off onto what might make a good combination if Sirius was having a headache, or if his headache was caused by a cold and he had other symptoms what could help with that.

To his credit, he never once interrupts or even looks bored. In fact the entire time he seems to regard me with mild amusement, and I begin to get the impression that everything he encounters in life amuses him.

I don’t even stop rambling about tea when he sets my cup in front of me. After taking a sip, I start to tell him how very fond I am of lemon balm, then pause when I finally realize the cup of tea is already made.

For the first time since Sirius asked what kind of tea I wanted, he is finally given a chance to say something. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw?”

I scoff at his suggestion. “Don’t be absurd, Slytherins can be just as studious as Ravenclaws, we just typically hold our cards a little closer to our chest.”

“Right.” He nods. “This was you holding your cards close to your chest?” He then questions.

“Well it’s not like there’s any great secret behind tea. And besides, even if I haven’t been able to sleep I am quite tired.” A yawn escapes me just then to prove my point. “Narcissa always complains about my tendency to ramble when I’m tired.”

“Why would she complain? I found it rather entertaining,” he says, lightheartedly. Even though his tone has a hint of joking to it, I feel like he’s being honest.

I give him a small smile before taking another sip from my cup. It’s still quite hot, but the flavors are still strong. “Mmm, this is quite delicious,” I compliment. “Is it chamomile with… rosemary?”

Sirius gives me a proud grin. “Ten points to Slytherin,” he jokes. A smile falls on my face.

“What have you made for yourself?” I ask, glancing at his cup.

“Vanilla and rose.”

“That sounds lovely. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before.”

“James’s mum makes it for us all the time. Do you want to try a sip?” He offers. I nod quickly and he passes over his cup. Sure enough it’s a delightful mixture. I tell him such and he tells me the measurements so that I can make it for myself.

“So what’s keeping you up on this otherwise peaceful night?” Sirius asks.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groan. He looks at me dumbly, confused as to what the obvious answer might be. “We start our OWLs tomorrow,” I scoff.

“Merlin, you can’t really be this stressed about it.” He sounds disbelieving, though I’m not sure why.

“I can and I am,” I say, matter-of-factly. He rolls his eyes and turns to begin putting away the tea kettle. “Why are you up, if not because of the OWLs?” I then ask.

“Not for any good reason. Have always had trouble sleeping,” he says, but the tightness in his voice, and the way he tugs at a lock of hair behind his ear tells me there’s something else he doesn’t want to share. I can’t fault him for that, though. “Which of your OWLs do you feel most prepared for?” He asks after a moment of tense silence.

It throws me off for just a second. Most people want to know which test I’m most nervous for, want to know what area I’m weakest in, where the chip in my armor is so that they might strike there. I consider for a moment, not wanting to say something that I end up bombing. Eventually, I decide on my favorite subject. Sirius seems to accept that answer without pushing any further, so I turn it on him.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he answers almost immediately. “I want to be an auror,” he brags.

I roll my eyes at the proud smirk on his face. “Of course you do.”

“Well? What do you want to be?” Sirius asks as if expecting a lame answer such as archivist.

“My parents want me to be an alchemist,” I reply in what I would guess is a lame answer.

“That’s great for them, what do you want to be, though?” Looking into his eyes at that moment feels as if he’s staring into my soul.

“I… I don’t know,” I mumble slowly and my brows furrow. I can’t help but look at my cup of tea, half empty at this point. No one had ever asked me what I wanted before, not when it came to something so major. It was always assumed I would follow the path my parents laid for me.

When I find the courage to look back up to Sirius he has a sympathetic look on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap.

In return, Sirius’s face pinches in anger. “I wasn’t looking at you any type of way,” he defends.

“Yes, you were, you had this look on your face like you were sad for me,” I accuse. “Don’t be sad for me.”

“I’m not sad for you─”

“Good, because you have no reason to be. My life is great and everything is perfectly fine.” The way I say it even Sirius can tell that I’m trying to convince myself more than him at this point. I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to say something about how I’m a great witch and I’m meant to be an alchemist, but another voice in my head whispers to explain how I really feel.

“Look,” I start, then trail off.

“It’s complicated,” he finishes for me. “I get it. I’m sure you know about my family, you know I get it.” His voice is so soft as he talks to me, as if I’m a frightened animal. But despite my flaws I am still a Slytherin, and I do not appreciate being treated like a frightened animal.

“Leave it to a Gryffindor to be so self-absorbed they assume everyone knows their tragic tale of woe. Maybe instead of staying up late to make tea and trying to relate to girls you hardly know you should work on your form for your smokescreen spell.” The words spill out of me before I even consider them. I don’t even take the time to be shocked at my outburst. Instead I storm off.

“Yeah, you’re one to talk about self-absorbed, Princess!” He shouts at my back. I nearly flinch at the nickname, but keep going out of the kitchens and straight back up to my dorm.

─

The morning before the first day of our OWLs testing I follow my same routine. I wake up early to run with James, and he tries to ask if I’m feeling alright, but I brush him off and neither of us acknowledges the way I push myself harder on this run than I ever had before.

After our run, I go back up to my dorm to shower and get ready for the day. My dorm mates still haven’t caught on yet that I’ve started getting up hours earlier. They do ask if I’m feeling flush and press their hands to my forehead, though. I shove them off with a grumbled, “I’m fine,” and shove my things for the day into my bag.

In the Great Hall I can hardly stomach a plain slice of toast, but I just manage to get it down with some orange juice. I feel a bit queasy, but today is too important to pay that feeling any mind.

On my way to the first test of the day, I think back to Remus’s reassuring words from our study session the night before.

“Look, I know trying to reassure you that you’ll do great won’t get through to you, even if I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Remus says softly, almost hesitantly. “Instead I hope you know that it will be okay if you aren’t perfect.” My heart hits my stomach and I drop my quill. I start to shut down, prepare to lash out. Why would he say that? He thinks I won’t be perfect?

“Maybe other people will have different opinions, but I will still be your friend and I know that everything will turn out okay for you.”

Oh. My heart flutters back to life. We’re friends?

For once in my life, I do not lash out at someone for trying to get closer to me, for saying something honest that I wasn’t ready to hear.

I give him a sad smile. “Thanks, Remus.” I pause for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” I whisper. Then, because I’m not sure how to proceed after that, I stiffly turn back to my notes. Remus, ever the gentleman, goes back to his book and doesn’t push me any further.

I don’t think anyone had ever told me before that it was okay to be anything less than perfect, but his words become my mantra for the day.

“It will be okay if I’m not perfect,” I think to myself as I walk into the classroom.

I take a seat next to Narcissa. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

The professor instructs us to start. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I read over every question three times. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I double check each of my answers. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I finish the last question. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I walk up to the front of the class and turn in my test. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

As I leave the classroom I’ve almost convinced myself that it will be okay if I’m not perfect.

My stomach begins to churn and I walk straight to the nearest bathroom, into one of the stalls, and promptly begin to lose my breakfast. I hear the door open behind me when I’ve stopped heaving.

“Think you’ve found yourself in the wrong bathroom, Princess,” someone says mockingly. Footsteps come closer to me. “Oh shit, are you okay?”

I hadn’t bothered to lock the stall door behind me, so I’m able to turn and see Sirius Black. Again. I give him a horrified look.

“What the bloody hell are you doing in the girls’ room?” I nearly shout at him.

“Actually you’re the one who’s walked into the boys’ room,” he informs me. I give him a disbelieving look until he shifts and my gaze falls on a line of urinals behind him. My face blushes profusely and I stare at Sirius, mortified. He gives me a pitying look. “It’s okay, pretty girl, you’re clearly not feeling well. Stay there for a moment.”

Still in shock, I stay put. I hear the sink running for a moment, then Sirius comes back with a damp towel. He hands it to me to wipe my face.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“Don’t sweat it,” he replies. With a tender hand, he helps me to my feet when I’m ready. “Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey, then.”

“Oh, no, that’s really not necessary. It must’ve just been something I had at breakfast,” I lie.

Sirius gives me a disbelieving look. “You’ve clearly worried yourself sick and we both know it.”

I don’t reply as I follow him out of the bathroom. My plan was to start going in the direction of the hospital wing, then double back to the library to keep studying. Sirius’s plan was to follow me.

“I’m more than capable of walking myself to the hospital wing,” I say tersely.

“And I’m more than capable of walking with you. I’m glad we’ve determined our abilities for this excursion.”

I shoot him a glare that would scare off most other people. Sirius doesn’t even blink at me. My new plan: ignore Sirius as he insists on walking me to see Pomfrey.

“How did you feel about it?” He asked after a moment.

I don’t respond.

“I personally thought some of the questions were a bit repetitive, like I had to explain myself multiple times.”

I stay strong.

“But maybe that’s a bad sign that I didn’t do as good as I thought.”

Just keep staring straight ahead, he has to shut up eventually, I think to myself.

“On the second question─”

“Would you just shut up already?” I snapped. I was stressed enough over how I did without reliving it with someone I didn’t even like.

Sirius holds his hands up defensively. “Someone’s cranky,” he says with a laugh.

“I am not cranky, I just don’t particularly care to discuss the test with you.” My eyes roll of their own volition.

“What should you care to discuss then?” He asks.

“With you? Not much.” Maybe if I can discourage him enough he’ll grow bored and wander off.

“It’s a bit of a trek to the hospital wing from here, though, and I’ve found conversation to be a great way to pass time.” Of course, I should know that Gryffindors are not so easily discouraged.

“I’ve found that there’s no reason for you to walk all the way to the hospital wing with me.”

“Wow, are you like this all the time?” He finally snaps back.

“Like what?” I pretend to be ignorant.

He scoffs at me. “Rude, Princess. Are you always so rude?”

I flare up at the nickname. The way he says it, it feels like he knows I don’t like it.

“Nobody asked you to pester me,” I say.

“Most people would consider this an act of kindness, not pestering.”

“How unfortunate for you that I am not like most people.”

“It would do you a bit of good to learn something from them, maybe you could start with some manners.”

“I’m perfectly well mannered, thank you very much. You’re the one who didn’t listen when I told you I was fine to walk by myself, and you’re the one working yourself up by staying with me when you could bug off to literally anywhere else.” With that I begin to speed up to leave him behind.

Sirius actually stops for just a moment, as if really considering my words. Then he rushes to catch up to me. “No, I want to know what’s so bloody great about you,” he says.

I give him a strange look. “I never claimed for anything to be so great about me.”

“Maybe not but you sure act like it, so tell me: what is so bloody great about you? What makes you so special that you think yourself better than everyone else here?”

It’s my turn to stop in my tracks. “Who the hell said I think I’m better than everyone?”

“No one has to say it, Princess.” The way he says Princess feels like venom on his tongue.

I want to hit him. Punch him in the face and give him a great bloody nose. I want to hex him. Maybe knock him off his feet. I want to scream at him. Scream that I don’t think myself better than everyone, that I’m just an imposter pretending to be perfect all the time.

It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

Tears start to well in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was eleven and my family was getting ready to drop me off at Hogwarts for the first time.

“Do not cry, darling, it’s unbecoming,” my mother says to me. “Soon you will be sorted into Slytherin and prepare to continue your family’s legacy. You must show strength at all times, even if you do not feel it. We can not be perceived as weak.”

A single tear snakes out of the corner of my eye and down the apple of my cheek. I look down and it falls to the ground by my feet. Another tear falls, and before I know it I am fully crying. I start to struggle to breathe.

When I look back up to Sirius he looks terrified. He must think he’s what’s made me cry. The truth is it’s the last five years that have built up to weigh on me continually. It’s the way my life was gilded and no one had ever cared to look below the surface until a few weeks ago when Remus Lupin offered to help me study. Until James Potter offered to go for a run. Until Sirius Black offered me a cup of tea.

My quiet tears begin to turn into choked sobbing as I realize how sad my life really was, that these three Gryffindors had shown me a kind of genuine caring that I hadn’t known could exist.

Hesitantly, Sirius takes my hand to lead me over to a nearby bench so I can sit down and try to collect myself. It takes several minutes for me to control my breathing, and several more for my tears to subside. I finally look down to notice that I’m still holding Sirius’s hand, that I’d actually been holding it quite firmly.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse, as I release his hand from my grasp. “You were right. Everything is so very complicated.”

Sirius gives me that same look he did last night, and I realize. He wasn’t sad for me, he understood me. But how was it fair that he would get to leave, when his brother and I were left behind with our authoritarian families? Selfishly, I think maybe he could show me the way.

I sit there, lost in my thoughts, for a long while. Sirius stays with me. Eventually the bells toll to indicate it was time for lunch. When I glance up at Sirius, he’s already looking at me.

“Can I make you an offer?” He asks.

I grow weary at his words. “I would suppose that depends on what the offer is.”

“Well, your eyes are red and swollen and you’ve got mascara tracked down your cheeks,” he starts and I grow horrified as I realize what I must look like. There was no way I could go into the Great Hall looking like the mess I surely am. He lets out a small laugh at my expression. “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll grab us some lunch from the Great Hall. We can meet in the south courtyard.”

I was amazed that even after I’d been so mean to him, he would still be so kind to me.

“That would be quite nice actually. Thank you,” I reply softly.

Sirius gives me a swift nod, then helps me to stand up. We go our separate ways, me to my dorm to wash my face and apply some fresh mascara and concealer, and Sirius to the Great Hall.

─

I’ve just sat down in a corner of the courtyard for a couple minutes when Sirius shows up. I try not to look too shocked when James and Remus appear with him. Of course, I knew they were all friends, they went galavanting around the entire school proclaiming themselves marauders, but I’d never interacted with all three of them together.

It suddenly occurs to me that they likely share a dorm, and very well could have planned this all to be some grand prank on me. But they had all seemed so genuinely kind to me until this point, and I was so tired of constantly second guessing everyone’s intentions. I decided that if this were some prank I would let them have their fun at me, then show them the real wrath of Slytherin.

The three of them quickly set up a small picnic and begin lighthearted conversation. James compliments the way my hair looks today. Sirius teases James for the way his hair looks everyday, although I would argue it flatters him I don’t say that aloud. Remus gives me a knowing look as the two begin bickering.

Spending time with the three of them is easy, and feels right. Like it was always meant to be the four of us all together. None of them mentions my earlier breakdown, or even anything to do with our tests. I wonder what Sirius told them before they all came out here. Whatever it was, none of them shows me any judgment so I can guess he must have skipped over my rude behavior.

I’m sad when the bells ring again to signify the end of lunch. We clean up our area of the courtyard, then head back inside. Over the course of my time with the boys I feel my spirits lifted significantly, feeling much better and ready to face the next two weeks of tests.

It will be okay if I’m not perfect, I think to myself again, and this time I really do believe it. Because even if I’m only just getting to know Remus, James, and Sirius, I know that they are my friends and they’ll be there for me.

#poly!marauders x slytherin!reader #poly!marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders #marauders era #slytherin!reader #slytherin #remus lupin x sirius black #remus lupin x james potter #james potter x sirius black #harry potter fandom

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kingofbodyrolls · 16 hours

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Friendcation (m) | myg | wedding special

Yoongi has done everything in his power to make your wedding truly special, what he couldn’t plan for was the rain. But fret not, a bit of rain will not make your day less special when it’s surrounded by friends and family. And your wedding night? Well, being pushed down into the sheets by Yoongi is easily one of your favorite things.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: the whole gang + family 🥰 → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, wedding!au, mechanic!Yoongi. → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 12.2k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Yoongi is so sweet 😭 You’ll see what I mean when you read, but he’s also a horny man that just wants to make the wedding day and night the best for his love 😭 Also, there’s still the usual sexual jokes and banter than friendcation is known for— there’s a few inside jokes, but you really don’t have to have read the whole series to understand them! → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, sexy lingerie, oral (male receiving), deep throating, multiple orgasms, sexual banter, pregnancy kink, spanking, pussy rubbing, nipple play and sucking, clit play, creampie, cockwarming, slow and hard sex, first a bit rough and dirty but then it turns slow and more passionate 🥹 → Author’s note: Remember when I did the winter special and I said that I would probably write more? Well, here I am with a new edition to Friendcation! This special is actually set before the ‘winter special’ 🤭 I do have two more specials planned for this lovely couple 🥳 I know that this is a special to a completed and established series, but I still do think that it kinda works as a one-shot still. So if you find this, not having read Friendcation before, I think you’d still be able to enjoy this, and if you end up liking it, you can always start reading the series (it’s filled with a lot of crack and sexual tension 🤭). And please don’t let the very sweet and romantic beginning fool you—this is very much still friendcation and the story will get filthy towards the end 👿 The taglist is technically closed, and I just went with the old original one— but if you want to be added to the taglist for the two other specials I’m gonna do, just let me know. And If you for some reason don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know that too! → Author’s note, pt2: So… remember how I said I would post this on the 20th? SURPRISE! I’m in my feels because of the ot7 photo— so here’s an early gift for you all 💜 Also, I did not really proofread this, simple because I’m too much of a happy mess to do so, so I’m sorry for any mistakes and whatnot.

Do you prefer to read on AO3? It’s been cross posted there ✨

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

This moment, bathed in magic, will weave itself into the very fabric of your memory, an indelible mark that time dare not erase until your very essence transcends this forsaken world.

But until that fateful day arrives, every precious moment enveloped in your boyfriend’s presence is a treasure to be savored—a sweet prelude to the boundless joy awaiting you when he finally becomes your husband!

At times, the surreal reality of marrying Yoongi, your once-friend-turned-best-friend-turned-soulmate, eludes comprehension, prompting you to pinch yourself just to affirm that this enchanting journey from friendship to love is indeed your reality.

A simple getaway—a friendcation with your best friends, and the simmering tension between you and Yoongi exploded like a tightly wound spring finally released, echoing the burst of a bubblegum bubble reaching its limit before bursting in a cascade of flavor and delight.

That’s precisely why you now find yourself immersed in the tranquil embrace of Seoul’s outskirts, enveloped by a forest alive with verdant splendor—a tapestry of towering trees crowned with emerald foliage, interwoven with lush grasses and bushes displaying an array of vibrant green hues, painting a picture of nature’s untouched magnificence.

Under Yoongi’s careful hands, string lights dance like fireflies, weaving around the sturdy trunks and graceful branches of the trees, forming a celestial canopy above. Amidst this enchanting glow, he has created a makeshift altar, a sanctuary for your love to bloom amidst the verdant embrace of nature.

Every detail meticulously arranged by Yoongi leaves you in awe, a tender reminder of his deep devotion—a gesture that fills you with a bittersweet mix of wonder and gratitude, as you realize anew the depth of his commitment to making your wedding day a cherished memory.

As the string lights cast their gentle glow, the forest transforms into a captivating fairytale image, each illuminated leaf and dancing shadow conspiring to steal your breath away. In this magical moment, Yoongi’s tender side shines through, igniting a newfound appreciation that fills your heart with a fluttering joy you never knew existed.

“Do you like it?” Yoongi’s voice, soft as a whisper, accompanies the gentle caress of his calloused fingers tracing circles on your skin. In that tender moment, as his touch soothes the frantic beat of your heart, you’re overcome by a puzzling mixture of nerves and anticipation—after all, it’s Yoongi, you don’t understand why you’d be nervous.

As he gestures towards the enchanting scene he’s meticulously crafted—the trees adorned with twinkling fairy lights, the stools arranged before the makeshift altar, even Holly parked to the side, adorned with ribbons and lights—Yoongi’s efforts overwhelm you with a wave of affection for the man who’s not just your partner but your future husband. Each thoughtful detail he’s woven into this momentous occasion stirs your heart, amplifying the love that binds you together.

With a tender smile gracing your lips, you lean in closer to Yoongi, your eyes reflecting the warmth of the fairy lights surrounding you. “I love it,” you muse softly, your voice a gentle melody in the tranquil forest. As you draw him nearer, your touch carrying the weight of affection, you add, “But I never knew this side of you—so soft, so tender. It’s like seeing you in a whole new light.”

He chuckles, that deep, resonant sound that melts your insides and sends your heart soaring, like a bird set free in the vast, open sky.

“You know I want our wedding to be perfect, or at least as close as we can get. Perfection might be an illusion, something that doesn’t truly exist, but damn, you’re the closest thing to it, babe. Anything for you.”

Your cheeks flush with warmth as you divert your gaze to the damp grass beneath your feet. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice tinged with emotion. “I love it.”

Yoongi’s gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering with admiration. He gently runs a warm hand over your flushed cheeks. “I love your dress,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “Everything about you is stunning. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

You’re adorned in a simple yet elegant dress, the delicate lace you adore gracefully hugging your figure. To complete the look, a flower crown, woven from nature’s most exquisite leaves and blossoms, rests upon your head, making you feel like a woodland fairy in a fairytale.

You chuckle, warmth blossoming in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Yoon,” you reply, your voice soft and filled with affection. “You look incredibly handsome in your suit. I love you, and I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Speaking of marriage— you did tell our parents what time the wedding is, right?” you ask, your voice tinged with nervousness. You glance up at the sky, the sun hanging low, a golden reminder that the ceremony is imminent. Anxiety bubbles within you as you realize none of your friends or family have arrived yet.

“Did you give them the right location? What if they can’t find us out here in the forest?” you ask, your voice rising with mounting anxiety. The nervousness gets the best of you, your heart pounding with worry as the reality of the secluded setting sinks in.

“Relax, babe. They’ll be here soon. The officiator will arrive, and everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. As always, his calm presence grounds you, steadying your racing heart with just a single touch, or even the reassuring depth of his gaze.

Instantly, his words soothe you, the nervousness ebbing away with each syllable. You smile back at him, then glance down at your gown. It’s a simple, white dress—though you had wished for a different color, given how many traditions you’re already breaking. This fact has upset both your parents, who have scolded you countless times for not having a traditional wedding. But you and Yoongi are determined to follow your own path, and this forest wedding is exactly what you want—a heartfelt ceremony in the very place where your love story began.

As the distant hum of engines grows louder, you turn to see your parents’ and Yoongi’s parents’ cars winding their way up the uneven forest road. A rush of excitement courses through you as the vehicles come to a stop, and one by one, your beloved family members step out into the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, their faces radiant with anticipation and love.

Your mother rushes over, enveloping you in a tight, loving hug that fills you with warmth and reassurance. Moments later, your father joins in, his embrace just as comforting. Then, Yoongi’s parents step forward, wrapping you in their arms, their affectionate gestures bridging the gap between families. In a seamless exchange, your parents switch, their hugs crossing boundaries and symbolizing the unity and love that binds you all together.

“Is it too late to have a traditional wedding?” Yoongi’s mother asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she bats her lashes, her voice carrying a playful tease that dances on the air like a feather.

“Eomma! We’ve discussed this before. We don’t want a traditional wedding,” Yoongi groans, his frustration palpable as he defends your choices once again. You can practically feel the weight of his exasperation, as if he’s on the verge of pulling out his hair in sheer frustration.

“Yes, yes. I know,” she says softly, her smile tinged with wistfulness as she gently nudges Yoongi’s shoulders. Despite her words, her eyes shimmer with fond memories and unspoken hopes, casting a warm glow that belies her timid demeanor.

“Shouldn’t you just be happy that I’m getting married at all?” Yoongi frowns, a hint of playful defiance in his expression, but his lips curve into a crooked smile that reveals the warmth of his affection, his gums peeking through like hidden treasures.

“Yes, you keep surprising me. Next, you’ll give me grandchildren, yes?” she asks, her voice laced with playful anticipation, her arms enveloping Yoongi in a tender embrace. With a loving smile, she presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Eomma, no,” Yoongi groans in mock disgust, though a playful twinkle dances in his eyes at the attention his mother showers upon him. You catch the subtle excitement in his voice, a reflection of the shared dreams you both harbor for the future. And as you exchange knowing glances, anticipation tingles in the air, as you are looking forward to all the nasty and dirty stuff you and Yoongi will be doing under the moonlight tonight.

You might just make a baby, who knows?

As you stand beside Yoongi and his mother, your attention is abruptly drawn away by the distant hum of engines. You turn to see multiple cars pulling up, their tires crunching on the grass as they park beside your parents’ vehicle. With each arrival, the air fills with a sense of excitement and anticipation, signaling the imminent gathering of loved ones to celebrate your special day.

You scan the arriving guests, and your eyes light up with delight as you spot your friends and Yoongi’s heavily pregnant sister. Despite her advanced pregnancy, she radiates a vibrant glow, her anticipation palpable in the gentle curve of her belly. You can't help but feel a surge of excitement and warmth, knowing that she’s on the brink of welcoming new life into the world.

Your gaze sweeps over the arriving cars, and your attention is snagged by one unfamiliar vehicle, its sleek silhouette contrasting with the rustic charm of the forest surroundings. A spark of excitement ignites within you as you realize that this could be the arrival of the officiator, the final piece in the puzzle of your wedding ceremony.

Your friends spill out of their cars, their laughter and excited chatter filling the air as they rush towards you and Yoongi. In a whirlwind of embraces and enthusiastic greetings, they envelop you both in a cascade of warmth and affection, their love palpable in every heartfelt hug and joyful smile.

Jimin strides in solo tonight, a vision of confidence in his sleek suit. Namjoon arrives with his date—the one he couldn’t stop texting since your vacation months ago. She exudes grace and warmth, fitting seamlessly into the group. Seokjin’s arm is wrapped protectively around his girlfriend, her gentle smile glowing despite the weight of her pregnancy. Meanwhile, Jungkook and Taehyung arrive without dates, their playful banter and laughter hinting at the unbreakable bond between them, yet leaving you curious about their romantic adventures, or lack thereof.

Surrounded by the warmth of your friends and family, your heart swells with happiness, as if it might burst from the overwhelming tide of love washing over you. Amidst the joyful chatter and laughter, your gaze falls upon Yoongi, his eyes alight with a radiant smile that seems to stretch from ear to ear, his conversation with his sister and brother-in-law a testament to the deep bonds of family and the anticipation of this special day.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a golden glow across the forest, the air seems to hum with anticipation, the vibrant hues of the surroundings intensifying under the magical embrace of the golden hour. The fairy string lights, once subtle, now twinkle like stars amidst the verdant canopy, weaving an enchanting tapestry of light and shadow that dances with the gentle breeze, infusing the atmosphere with an ethereal charm.

The officiator locks eyes with Yoongi and gives him a subtle nod, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. Your heart flutters with excitement, mingled with a hint of nervousness, as you realize that the moment you’ve been waiting for is finally here. Giddy anticipation bubbles within you, causing your palms to grow clammy with nervous energy. You fumble with the delicate lace of your dress, trying to dry your sweaty hands, your fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Your friends and family settle into the chairs meticulously arranged by Yoongi, their laughter and chatter filling the air with warmth and anticipation. The chairs are nestled on the lush grass, forming a cozy circle in front of two majestic trees adorned with twinkling string lights that cast a soft, enchanting glow. As your loved ones take their seats amidst the magical ambiance, you feel a sense of unity and excitement building, like the anticipation before the opening act of a grand performance.

With a sense of solemnity, the officiator leads the way towards the towering trees, their branches adorned with twinkling lights that illuminate the gathering dusk. You and Yoongi follow closely behind, your fingers intertwined in a reassuring grip, each step echoing with the weight of anticipation and the promise of forever.

As the warm summer air envelops you, carrying the hum of insects and the symphony of nature’s song, you can’t help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you. This is your element, being embraced by the gentle caress of nature’s embrace, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the forest. With each breath, you and Yoongi are united in your love for the great outdoors, and in this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of your wedding venue, you feel more connected than ever before.

The officiator begins to address you, your loved ones, and the assembled guests, his words weave a tapestry of emotions and imagery. He speaks of the intricate journey from friendship to love, likening it to the delicate bloom of a red tulip, its vibrant petals unfurling in a display of magnificent colors. His voice resonates with tales of enduring love, reminiscent of the fairytales of old, and despite your initial skepticism, you find yourself drawn into the beauty of his words. While your own love story with Yoongi may not fit the traditional fairytale mold, there’s a raw and genuine beauty in the imperfect, real-life moments you’ve shared together.

As the officiator speaks, your gaze naturally drifts to Yoongi, his hands clasped lightly in yours. You hold him with a tenderness that belies your fears, as if he’s fragile and delicate, but deep down, you know he’s as sturdy as the roots of the trees surrounding you, built to weather any storm. It’s evident in the strength of his embrace, the gentle yet firm touch of his fingers interlocked with yours, offering silent reassurance and unwavering support.

When your eyes meet his, you’re captivated by the intense love shining in his dark chocolate brown eyes, a depth of emotion you’ve never seen before. His smile radiates warmth, softening the lines of his face and illuminating his features with a tender glow. Dressed in a sharp suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, he exudes an effortless elegance that takes your breath away, his presence commanding attention and admiration.

As the officiator begins the ceremony, the world around you fades into a soft, low buzz, like the distant hum of bees in a summer garden. Despite the faint background noise, Yoongi’s voice cuts through clearly as he recites his vows, each word carrying the weight of his love, lifting you higher than the clouds. His words wrap around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the depth of his devotion. When it’s your turn to speak, you watch the impact of your vows on Yoongi, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, his trembling lip betraying the depth of his emotion. In that moment, the love he holds for you shines brighter than any star, illuminating his handsome face with an ethereal glow.

Yoongi says ‘I do’, and a surge of exhilaration floods through you, lifting your spirits as if you could soar high into the clouds. This moment, the culmination of your deepest desires and fondest dreams, fills you with a profound sense of joy and fulfillment. For so long, you harbored secret feelings for him, uncertain if your love would ever be reciprocated. But now, as you stand on the brink of forever, you’re overwhelmed by the realization that he loves you just as fiercely. In his ‘I do’ you find the reassurance that your hearts are perfectly aligned, destined to journey through life together as one.

Yoongi’s touch is tender as he clasps your hands in his, his eyes shimmering with an unspoken vow of love and devotion. With gentle precision, he slides a golden band adorned with small, glistening crystals onto your ring finger, each delicate touch imbued with the weight of a promise that spans eternity. As the cool metal meets your skin, a rush of warmth floods through you, a tangible reminder of the enduring bond you share and the beginning of a new chapter in your love story.

A smile spreads across your face, one of those ‘I’m stupidly in love’ grins that lights up your entire being. You’re acutely aware that your expression must look utterly comical to anyone watching, but in this moment, you couldn’t care less. All that matters is the overwhelming rush of joy and adoration that fills your heart, painting your world in vibrant hues of love and happiness.

As the officiator’s gaze falls upon you, a sense of gravity settles over the scene, and you realize it’s your turn to say I do. Locking eyes with Yoongi, you feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere, as if the very air around you becomes charged with anticipation. The once bright skies darken, heavy clouds obscuring the sun, and the forest is cloaked in the earthy scent of moss. Yet, you’re unfazed by the changing nature around you, your focus solely on the man before you. With unwavering determination, you speak the final words, ‘I do,’ and as if in response to your declaration, the heavens open, showering the world with rain—a fitting testament to the intensity of your love and the power of your union.

The rain pours down in torrents, soaking you to the bone, your once-flowing dress now clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Oblivious to the chaos around you, the cacophony of your friends and family’s screams as they scramble for cover, you lock eyes with Yoongi. His long black hair is plastered to his face by the relentless downpour, and yet, there’s an undeniable joy in his laughter that mirrors your own. With a shared glance, you burst into fits of laughter, the absurdity of the situation only strengthening the bond between you. As you slide the ring onto his finger, your laughter mingles with the rhythmic patter of raindrops, a symphony of love and laughter. In that moment, as the officiator pronounces you married and grants you permission to kiss, you share a tender embrace, sealing your vows amidst the exhilarating chaos of the downpour.

And kiss you do. With an urgency born of love and longing, Yoongi leans in, his soft lips meeting yours in a tender yet passionate embrace. Despite the rain drenching you both, you can’t help but chuckle into the kiss, the warmth of his touch melting away any discomfort. As he pulls you closer, his arms enveloping your drenched form, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, binding you together in an intoxicating dance of desire. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the beat of your hearts echoing in perfect harmony. In the background, amidst the cheers and applause of your friends and family.

The kiss feels like a spell woven between you, a moment of pure magic and transcendence. It takes you back to the day when Yoongi proposed, a memory etched in your heart like a cherished melody. You recall the day vividly: Yoongi toiling away in his garage, hands stained with motor oil, yet his eyes ablaze with a passion that mirrored the fire in your own heart. It was one of those late nights, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil, as you shared takeout amidst the hum of machinery. Unbeknownst to you, he beckoned you over to the car he was working on, his intentions shrouded in mystery until the moment he kissed you—deep and fervent, igniting a flame of desire within you that threatened to consume you both. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might rip your clothes off and take you atop the very car he was fixing, the thrill of anticipation quickening your pulse. Instead, he pulled back, his eyes shimmering with unspoken love, as he uttered those life-changing words. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was quintessentially Yoongi—unexpected, sincere, and overflowing with the depth of his affection. And in that moment, as you uttered the easiest ‘yes’ of your life, you knew that your love story was destined for greatness, forged in the quiet moments of intimacy and the simple beauty of everyday life.

The rain continues to pour down, drenching you both to the bone, yet Yoongi’s kiss remains unbroken, as if time itself has stretched out to accommodate this perfect moment. Each passing second feels like an eternity, your senses heightened by the coolness of the rain and the warmth of his lips. You can feel a deep, growing desire unfurl within you, igniting a fire that burns brighter with every tender caress.

“Hey hyung! You shouldn’t stick your tongue down her throat like that, it’s gross!” Jungkook’s playful shout pierces through your passionate moment, jolting you back to reality. You reluctantly open your eyes, laughter bubbling up despite the interruption, only to lock eyes with your mother. Her expression speaks volumes, a single displeased look delivering a silent scolding that makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment. The contrast between the fiery intimacy of Yoongi’s kiss and the sudden, humorous reality check from your friends and family fills you with a mix of emotions—embarrassment, amusement, and a deep, abiding love for the man holding you close.

Yoongi pulls away gently, his hands steadying you as he straightens you up. A chuckle escapes your lips, quickly blossoming into full laughter as you realize the intensity of your kiss might have been a bit too much for your audience. The amused glances and knowing smiles from your friends and family only add to the humor of the moment, making you feel both exhilarated and slightly sheepish. The love and joy of the occasion, however, remain undiminished, as you and Yoongi share a private smile, basking in the sheer delight of your unrestrained affection.

Despite the rain, your friends and family rush towards you, their faces alight with joy and excitement as they shower you and Yoongi with heartfelt congratulations. Your parents, though expressing their initial desire for a traditional wedding, admit with warm smiles that this ceremony was uniquely beautiful and special. The mingling continues for a while, laughter and chatter filling the air, but soon, the persistent downpour compels both your parents and Yoongi’s to consider heading home.

You embrace your parents tightly, feeling the warmth of their love despite the rain. They are the first to depart, leaving behind words of encouragement and happiness. Next, you bid farewell to Yoongi’s parents. His mother, ever the tease, turns back with a mischievous smirk. “Have a lovely night. I expect grandchildren!” she calls out, her voice carrying a playful lilt. You laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, as her cheeky remark adds a final touch of joy to this unforgettable day.

And with that, they depart, their figures slowly disappearing into the misty depths of the forest. You and Yoongi are left behind, choking on your laughter, the echoes of their playful words lingering in the air. The sound of your mirth blends with the soft patter of rain and the rustling leaves, creating a symphony of joy that perfectly encapsulates the magical moment. As you watch them fade from view, a sense of serene happiness washes over you, knowing this enchanting night is just the beginning of your beautiful journey together.

Yoongi’s sister and her husband approach next, their smiles warm despite the rain. You exchange heartfelt hugs, feeling the comforting swell of family support. “Thank you so much for coming,” you say sincerely, your voice thick with emotion. They nod, their eyes shining with shared happiness, before bidding their farewells and disappearing into the misty evening.

The officiator steps forward, his eyes twinkling with genuine pleasure. “This was an absolute joy for me to officiate,” he says warmly, shaking your hand with a firm, friendly grip. “I rarely get the chance to oversee non traditional weddings, so this was truly special for me as well.” His words carry a heartfelt sincerity that touches you deeply. With a final nod and a parting smile, he bids you farewell, leaving you with a sense of profound gratitude for the unique and beautiful ceremony he helped create.

With only your friends remaining, they close in around you, a joyful swarm of affection and excitement. Their laughter and exuberant chatter fill the air, wrapping you in a warm, comforting cocoon of love and support. You feel their genuine happiness radiating towards you, each hug and congratulatory word a testament to the deep bonds you share. The moment is electric, their energy infectious, making you feel incredibly blessed to have such wonderful friends by your side on this unforgettable day.

“Did you bring your camera?” Yoongi asks Taehyung, his voice filled with hopeful anticipation. Taehyung nods enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Of course! It’s in my car,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“But do you really want pictures in this rain?” Taehyung asks, his brows furrowed in uncertainty, his concern evident in his tone. The rain continues to pour, casting a shimmering veil over the forest clearing. Despite his hesitation, there’s a glimmer of determination in Taehyung’s eyes. “My camera is weather-sealed,” he reassures, his voice tinged with resolve. “And I can always enlist Jungkook or Jimin to hold an umbrella over it, just to be safe.”

His willingness to brave the elements for the sake of capturing your special day fills you with gratitude and admiration.

“Yeah, just some shots over by that tree over there,” Yoongi muses, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a tender gesture that sends a shiver of delight down your spine. The gentle touch of his kiss elicits a soft giggle from you, the sound echoing amidst the gentle patter of raindrops. In that fleeting moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the forest, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and contentment enveloping you, binding you ever closer to the man whose presence fills your heart with joy.

“Okay,” Taehyung says with a nonchalant shrug, his excitement palpable despite his casual demeanor. The fact that Yoongi had asked him beforehand fills him with a sense of pride, evident in the way he confidently reaches for his camera. You watch as Taehyung, fueled by anticipation, turns to Jungkook, a mischievous glint in his eye as he enlists his friend’s help. With a shared grin, Jungkook readily agrees, stepping forward to be Taehyung’s trusty assistant for this impromptu photoshoot. Together, they gather the necessary equipment—a camera and an umbrella—and set off towards the designated tree, their laughter mingling with the soft patter of rain.

You don’t want to capture too many photos, just a select few to encapsulate the ethereal beauty of this rain-soaked day. Hand in hand with Yoongi, you approach the towering tree, its branches adorned with twinkling string lights that cast a soft glow against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Taehyung guides you further away from the tree, his camera poised to capture the perfect shot. With expert precision, he explains the importance of separating you from the background to achieve a stunning bokeh effect in the photos. Following his instructions, you step a few meters away, the string lights creating a halo of warmth and intimacy around you both. As twilight descends, a magical transformation takes place. The gentle hum of nature fills the air, accompanied by the soft patter of raindrops and the distant chirping of crickets. Suddenly, tiny pinpricks of light begin to dance around you, their soft glow illuminating the darkness like miniature stars. You gasp in awe as you realize that the air is alive with fireflies, their luminous presence adding an enchanting touch to the already magical atmosphere. It’s a scene straight out of a fairytale, a fleeting moment of pure, unadulterated magic that you know will be etched in your memory forever.

Taehyung presses his finger on the camera’s shutter, immortalizing the tender moments unfolding before him. First, he captures you and Yoongi standing side by side, your expressions innocent and serene. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, Yoongi leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The scene shifts as Yoongi gently turns you to face him, the world around you fading into a blur. With a sudden, passionate intensity, he captures your lips with his in a fiery kiss, the heat of it igniting every nerve in your body. Taehyung’s camera clicks rapidly, capturing each electric moment as Yoongi’s embrace tightens, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, just the shared breath and the undeniable love that burns brighter than the fairy lights around you.

Yoongi’s fingers glide to the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips leave yours, tracing a fiery path down to your throat where he kisses and sucks, leaving a deep purple mark on your skin. A groan of delight escapes your lips, your senses consumed by his touch. The world around you fades into oblivion as Yoongi’s lips travel back up to your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing against your skin. He whispers sweet nothings, painting vivid images of all the things he wants to do with you tonight, each word stoking the fire of lust and making your pulse race with desire.

Jungkook clears his throat, breaking the spell of Yoongi’s intoxicating kiss. As you reluctantly pull away, your gaze lands on Jungkook, whose cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, reminiscent of that day he accidentally walked in on you and Yoongi in the garage. The memory flashes vividly in your mind—the startled look on Jungkook’s face, the awkward shuffle of his feet, and the embarrassed apology that followed.

“I’ll only take photos of you kissing,” Taehyung huffs, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he lowers his camera. “If you want more raunchy photos, you should hire a professional.” He places the camera carefully to the side, while Jungkook, his cheeks still faintly red, lifts the umbrella higher to shield Taehyung and the equipment from the rain.

You and Yoongi both nod, a shared understanding passing between you. It’s so easy to get lost in each other’s embrace, to forget the world spinning around you. You offer a quick apology to Taehyung and Jungkook, but the sincerity is wrapped in the light-heartedness of the moment. Despite the raindrops falling around you, you all burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the patter of rain.

“But you are a professional photographer now, Tae,” you giggle, pulling Yoongi away from the tree. The rain continues to fall softly around you, creating a magical ambiance as you make your way over to the rest of your friends, who are still waiting for you with bright smiles and open arms. Yoongi squeezes your hand, and you feel a rush of warmth and happiness, knowing that this moment, surrounded by loved ones, is exactly how you imagined your special day.

“Yeah, but I don’t do that kind of photography. But I do know a guy who does amazing boudoir shoots,” he smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your eyes light up at the mention, the wheels in your brain churning with ideas. You turn towards Yoongi, your husband, a playful grin spreading across your face as you imagine the possibilities.

“Would you prefer photos of me in my wedding dress or in my wedding lingerie?” you ask, your voice a soft, teasing whisper. You notice how his pupils dilate, his breath hitching slightly, which brings a lovely, satisfied smirk to your lips. The anticipation in his eyes makes your heart race.

Jungkook scoffs and rolls his eyes, quickening his pace to escape the conversation, his discomfort evident as he strides ahead, trying to distance himself from your playful banter.

“Wedding lingerie?” His voice comes out raspy, almost strangled, as if the very thought has taken his breath away.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you, your heart beating faster with every step closer to your friends. You squeeze his hand in yours, feeling the warmth of his touch anchoring you in the moment, while the smiles of your friends awaiting you ahead fill you with a sense of joy and anticipation.

“Are you wearing it right now?” he asks, his gaze trailing over your body with a hunger that makes your skin tingle. It’s as if he could see through the layers of your wedding dress, his eyes sparking with curiosity and desire.

You chuckle, feeling a playful surge of excitement as you bounce in front of him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a coy smile, you purse your lips and quip, “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” Your words are laced with anticipation, leaving him intrigued and eager for what’s to come.

Taehyung’s chuckle ripples through the air behind you, rich with amusement, while Jungkook emits a soft sound of discomfort, his unease palpable in the subtle shift of his stance.

“You can give me that photographer's contact info later, right Tae?”

You hear Yoongi’s voice behind you, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of excitement. It makes you chuckle softly, surprised yet pleased by his interest in the idea. You hadn’t been sure if he would entertain the thought of such intimate photos of you. But as his words sink in, a warmth spreads through you, and you’re filled with a newfound eagerness. You’ve always been curious about boudoir photography, and the idea of exploring it with him fills you with anticipation.

You finally catch up with the rest of your friends, who immediately turn their attention to you and Yoongi, their faces lighting up with big, joyous smiles. The warmth and love radiating from them wrap around you like a comforting blanket, and you can feel the excitement and happiness in the air as they welcome you with open arms and congratulatory cheers.

“This wedding is a celebration of love in its purest form,” Namjoon begins, his gaze sweeping over the enchanting forest setting. The fairy lights twinkle in the dusk, casting a magical glow over the scene. You can see the admiration in his eyes, knowing he envisions a similar backdrop for his own wedding someday. With his deep love for nature, this setting, with its lush greenery and serene ambiance, is indeed the perfect venue.

“Thank you for inviting us,” he adds, a big smile spreading across his lips as he pulls his girlfriend into his embrace and plants a tender kiss on her forehead. Watching them, you can’t help but think how incredibly adorable they look together, their affection radiating a warmth that adds to the magic of the evening.

“Of course. We’re just so thrilled to have everyone here to celebrate this special day with us. You’re welcome to stay if you want—sleep under the stars like we did on vacation,” you quip, a big smile lighting up your face. Your eyes glisten with the fond memories of those three magical months, filled with laughter and unforgettable adventures with your friends.

Jungkook is the first to look away, clearing his throat but remaining silent. Jimin, however, turns to you with a playful smirk plastered on his face. “We didn’t bring any tents with us, sorry,” he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Seokjin chimes in with a knowing smile, “We need to sleep at home, closer to the hospital, you know, just in case we go into labor. Can’t risk it out here.” His hand gently rests on his partner’s belly, and you can see the mix of excitement and nervousness in his eyes.

His girlfriend shoots him a stern look, “I’m the one going into labor. Me. I’ll be doing all the pushing and stuff while you just sit and observe.” She scoffs slightly, her irritation clear as she places her fisted hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and determination.

“What? Do you think I’ll just sit and watch you give birth? No, no. I’ll hold your hand, your thigh, whatever you need, love,” Seokjin breathes, rushing over to reassure his pregnant girlfriend. The moment his hands rest on her stomach, you see her shoulders relax and a hint of a smile touches her lips. His touch seems to melt away her irritation, and the love between them is palpable, a beautiful testament to their bond.

You smile, savoring the moments when you observe your friends with their partners. It reminds you of how grand and sweet love can be, or how it can bring laughter with its quirks. Your heart swells with affection as you watch Seokjin and his girlfriend banter playfully. Their lighthearted exchange makes you chuckle, resonating deeply and reminding you of the delightful dynamic you share with Yoongi.

“We have some spare tents in Holly that you can use,” Yoongi quickly interjects, pulling you closer with a firm yet gentle grip on your hips. His touch sends a warm shiver through you, grounding you in the moment and making you feel cherished. You lean into his embrace, smiling as you think about how considerate he always is.

Taehyung swiftly stows his camera away in his car, sheltering it from the relentless downpour, before rejoining the group. He inserts himself into the conversation with a playful yet teasing tone. “Look, we just don’t want to hear you have sex again, thank you very much,” he quips, his expression a mix of amusement and mock exasperation.

You shoot a wide-eyed glance at the guys, their cheeks flushing with vivid hues of embarrassment, vividly recalling the escapades from your vacation days. Your own ears burn crimson with the memories flooding back, a mixture of nostalgia and amusement swirling within you.

“Yes, it’s probably for the best, yeah,” your words tumble out in a nervous chuckle, accompanied by a nod of agreement. The memory of past escapades tinges your cheeks with a hint of embarrassment. Deep down, you're relieved by their decision, grateful to avoid any repeat performances in front of your friends. Their words resonate, striking a chord of truth, and you find yourself conceding to their wisdom.

Jimin sidles up to you, enveloping you in a warm embrace, while your fingers remain intertwined with Yoongi’s.

“It’s your wedding night. You should get to enjoy it unrestricted, you know what I mean?”

His voice is a hushed whisper against your ear, igniting a blush that creeps across your cheeks. Oh, you understand his meaning all too well. After all, he was the one who lent a hand in selecting your wedding lingerie. In that moment, you’re struck by a surge of gratitude for your loyal confidant — your ultimate ride or die. Next to Yoongi, of course; he holds a special place in your heart.

Jimin extricates himself from the embrace, and you catch the familiar glint of disapproval in Yoongi’s gaze. It’s a look he often wears, a silent protest against the closeness he perceives between you and Jimin. But there’s no cause for concern; Yoongi needn’t fear. Your affection for Jimin is pure and platonic, a bond woven with the threads of years of friendship and trust. Yet, you can’t help but wonder if Yoongi sees something you don’t, something lurking beneath the surface of your friendship.

Jimin then sidles over to Yoongi, enveloping him in a snug embrace, his lips moving in a hushed murmur that escapes your ears. Whatever secret message Jimin imparts seems to evoke a predictable response from Yoongi—a roll of the eyes accompanied by Jimin’s infectious laughter, a silent exchange that speaks volumes of their friendship.

“Time to head back,” Jimin announces, gently guiding your friends towards their awaiting cars. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to enjoy their first night as a married couple in peace.” His laughter ripples through the air, a contagious melody that makes you chuckle.

As they make their way to their cars, each of your friends pauses to envelop you in warm hugs and heartfelt congratulations, their genuine affection palpable in the air. With bittersweet smiles, you wave them off, watching their cars disappear into the distance.

You pivot toward Yoongi, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Now that we’ve got the whole forest to ourselves,” you say, a playful lilt in your voice, “what’s your pleasure?”

Yoongi’s smirk widens as he raises a suggestive eyebrow, raindrops still clinging to his skin and clothes. “What do you think I want to do?” he teases, his voice low and inviting.

“Get in the van, babe,” he adds, his tone hinting at a world of thrilling possibilities.

Excitement and arousal surge through your body like an electric charge as you stride towards Holly, your hand eagerly grasping the handle as you step inside, ready for whatever adventures await with Yoongi by your side.

Yoongi follows you eagerly, the click of the door shutting behind him echoing the finality of the moment. With a soft sigh, you sink into the cozy embrace of the makeshift bed, the anticipation of the night ahead palpable in the air.

You lay down on the bed, smirking up at Yoongi as you lick your lips, trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in his mind. You wonder how he wants to take you, what he plans to do tonight. One thing is certain—you know exactly what you want to do to him.

Yoongi hovers over the bed, looking down at you with dark pools of lust in his eyes. Your gaze drops, catching sight of the bulge in his pants, and a soft, seductive chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’re already getting hard,” you breathe, your voice feather-light. The thought of having him in your hand, or even taking him deep into your mouth, sends a shiver of anticipation through you.

He grunts, “What did you expect? Now strip so I can see that lingerie, babe.” His voice is rough with desire, sending a thrill down your spine.

You laugh wholeheartedly, the sound echoing in the intimate space, because that is so Yoongi. You know the thought of your lingerie has probably been driving him wild since you hinted at wearing it.

With a teasing smile, you rise from the bed and stand tall before him, well, not taller, but still. Holding his gaze, you let your hands travel to your back, finding the zipper and pulling it down slowly. The sound fills the van, and you see Yoongi’s brow twitching, his anticipation evident. He's probably doing all he can to resist the urge to ravish you right then and there.

You let your wedding dress cascade off your frame, sliding down your hips and pooling around your feet. Yoongi’s expression is priceless; his adoration for you is unmistakable, his lust palpable in the way his lips curl into a smile and his eyes unabashedly roam over your body. You bask in his gaze, loving every second of it. Your hands find their way to your breasts, groping and pressing them together. “Do you like it?” you ask, mirroring his earlier question, batting your eyelashes at him with a feigned innocence that you both know is far from the truth.

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just stands there, taking you in. His eyes roam over your white lingerie set, lingering on the lacy bra that’s sheer enough to reveal the darker hue of your nipples. Delicate strings extend from the cups, winding over your shoulders and around your waist, accentuating every curve. You’re wearing a white lace g-string to match, barely covering anything, and to complete the look, a suspender belt holds up a pair of white lacy stockings. His silence speaks volumes, the heat in his gaze making you feel more desired than ever.

You chuckle softly, the sound filling the silence as he remains speechless, mesmerized by the sight of you. The power you feel in this moment is intoxicating, knowing you have him utterly captivated. Your eyes sweep over him, taking in every detail, and you lick your lips slowly, savoring the anticipation. Your mind races with wicked ideas of how you can tease him further, heightening the delicious tension between you.

“There’s a wet patch on your pants, Yoon,” you purr, closing the distance between you. Leaning in, you whisper into his ear, your breath hot and tantalizing. Your right hand glides down to his crotch, cupping his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat and firmness beneath your touch.

“Speechless?” you tease, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. His response is a low, guttural grunt, and you smile, knowing you have him right where you want him. With a subtle increase in pressure, your hand caresses his cock through his pants, relishing in the power you hold over him.

“Gonna suck your dick, Yoon,” you whisper seductively, your voice dripping with desire. “Gonna make you come down my throat. You can make me choke on your cock. Then you can fill up my pussy, maybe get me pregnant, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Each word is laced with a potent mix of passion and anticipation, igniting a fiery hunger between you both.

You feel a surge of empowerment, like a femme fatale in control of her prey—savoring every moment of rendering him speechless. Damn, you enjoy it way too much. It makes you soak your panties. The anticipation ignites a wildfire of desire within you, causing your senses to heighten. You can practically feel the electric tension crackling in the air as you drop down to your knees, a siren of seduction ready to unleash your desires upon him.

With a swift and practiced motion, your hands move with purpose, deftly unzipping his dress pants and pulling them down, along with his underwear, revealing the object of your desire in all its glory.

His dick springs free, a tantalizing sight that never fails to ignite desire within you. You revel in its presence, appreciating its length and girth, knowing how perfectly it fits you and the pleasure it promises. In this moment, with his dick before you, you feel a surge of ownership and longing, your heart racing with a potent blend of love and lust, knowing that it’s now exclusively yours to enjoy.

You take hold of him, your fingers wrapping around his dick, and you give him a slow, deliberate stroke, feeling him pulse in response to your touch. Then, with a teasing smile dancing on your lips, you lower your head and flick your tongue across the sensitive tip, savoring the way he shudders with raw desire at your touch.

Your gaze meets his, a facade of innocence masking the minx within, especially when it comes to him. You lock eyes, finding his already lost in ecstasy, as you trail your tongue along his cock, savoring the way his breath catches and he bites down on his lower lip, unable to contain his desire.

“I want to hear you, Yoon. And I want you to fuck my mouth. I’ll let you know if it’s too rough, okay?” You don't wait for a response; his stunned silence tells you all you need to know.

You take him fully in your mouth in one smooth motion, your hand gripping the base of his shaft firmly.

You take him deep, your mouth accommodating his full length as you breathe rhythmically through your nose, ready to embark on your task. Working your mouth back and forth along his shaft, you elicit low, primal sounds from him. His fingers thread through your hair, anchoring you as you establish a steady, deliberate rhythm.

You ensure to maintain eye contact with him, locking gazes as you work your magic. His intense stare reflects his captivation with you, every movement you make drawing him deeper into the moment. Swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, you create a vacuum, engulfing him in a whirlwind of sensation. He tightens his grip on your hair, emitting a primal hiss of pleasure, lost in the ecstasy you provide.

You take him deeper, pushing past the boundaries of your comfort to savor every inch of him. As he brushes against the back of your throat, you battle your gag reflex, determined to accommodate him fully. Finally, your nose nestles into his soft curls, and the heady scent of him envelops you. A primal moan escapes your lips, unleashing a torrent of arousal that courses through your veins, igniting every nerve ending in a frenzy of desire.

You maintain a steady rhythm, your lips and tongue caressing him with a practiced finesse. Yet, as your jaw begins to protest and your throat yearns for respite, you glance up at him, silently begging him to take control. Your eyes implore him, a silent plea for release, while a gentle tap on his thigh conveys your need for a change in pace.

“Damn,” he finally speaks, his voice hoarse with desire. Running a hand through his tousled black locks, he gazes at you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You look so perfect like this,” he continues, his fingers tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek. “With my cock in your mouth. Let me take over, babe.”

Relief washes over you as you relinquish control, allowing yourself a moment to simply savor the feeling of his dick between your lips, the weight of him against your tongue. It’s a welcome reprieve, a chance to lose yourself in the pure physicality of the moment.

With a firm grip on your hair, he sets a rhythm, each thrust pushing deeper into your eager mouth. Your jaw slackens, welcoming him eagerly as he moves with a primal urgency that ignites a fire within you. The intensity of his movements sends shivers down your spine— rough and fast.

Panting, he murmurs, “You in that lingerie set are really doing something to me,” his words punctuated by the force of his thrusts, each one harder and more desperate than the last.

Your eyes begin to water, but the overwhelming pleasure makes you love every second of it.

His breath comes in ragged pants as he locks eyes with you. “That suspender belt on your waist… you must be trying to kill me, because, fuck,” he groans. Sweat begins to form at his hairline, and the sight of his damp white shirt clinging to his skin makes him look utterly sinful.

“I want to fuck you wearing that so bad, babe,” he groans, his voice heavy with desire. You feel him twitch in your mouth and respond by suctioning your cheeks tighter around him, humming softly to intensify his pleasure.

It makes him shudder, and you can tell he’s close. Just a bit more, and you’ll have him spilling down your throat, you’re sure of it.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. I can’t hold back with you looking at me like that,” he groans, your name falling from his lips as he spills inside your mouth. Your hands grip his hips tighter, feeling him pulse as he thrusts a few more times, making sure you take every drop.

It tastes salty, just as always, but you savor it like a fine wine. When he finally pulls out, you make sure to show him your tongue, every drop swallowed, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, your panties already soaked, the wetness likely trailing down your thighs.

“Yoongi, I love you,” you gasp, breathless, your hand brushing away the tears that had escaped while he fucked your mouth.

“I love you too,” he murmurs tenderly, his hand cradling your jaw before his fingers trace lightly over your lips. “Come on. Get up and get back on the bed.”

You nod, a shiver running down your spine as you comply. Rising from your position on the floor, you crawl over to the bed and settle yourself down, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.

Yoongi steps out of his pants with fluid grace, tossing his shoes aside before shedding his blazer and pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his naked form. You’re captivated by him, every inch of his body resonating with an irresistible allure. His skin, its familiar pale hue, speaks of hours spent indoors tinkering with cars, sculpting his lean physique with just a hint of muscle, a testament to his dedication and hard work.

As Yoongi draws near, he takes your feet in his hands, removing your heels with a gentle tug and allowing them to drop to the floor.

“What do you want, babe? I’ll give you everything,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with tender affection, awaiting your heart's deepest longing.

“I want to have your babies. Like we talked about. I want that future with you,” you confess, your voice trembling with anticipation, your body arching towards him, showing him just how wet you are, a silent invitation for him to claim you completely.

“Oh, babe. You know I want that too. It will be a moment before I’m ready to go again,” he murmurs, his hand moving to your leg, his touch sending shivers down your spine as his fingertips trace patterns of intimacy on your skin, making goosebumps appear.

“Just touch me. I want your hands all over my body, please, Yoon,” you plead, your eyes locking with his, your voice a soft melody of longing, your lip quivering as you await his touch.

He traces the map of your skin with a feather-light touch, igniting a trail of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. As his fingers dance closer to the apex of your pussy, you hold your breath, yearning for his touch, but he tantalizingly skirts past, teasingly exploring every inch of your being before finally reaching your breasts.

“Your boobs are so perky,” he murmurs, his touch tracing the delicate contours of your bra, coaxing your nipples to a tantalizing peak.

“No, they’re not,” you pout, feeling your pussy tighten and your body quiver in response to his touch.

“Don’t speak ill of your body. You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a soft murmur against your skin as he gropes your breasts, his thumb tracing tantalizing circles around your nipples. Your heart races, torn between the desire for him to take you now and the intoxicating thrill of the teasing.

“And now you’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in darkness and possessiveness, thick with lust, sending shivers down your spine.

You chuckle softly, a playful glint in your eyes. “I was yours long before we said ‘I do.’ Marriage didn’t change that, you know?”

He chuckles softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine, yet his eyes hold yours, intense and full of promise. “Oh, I know,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over your skin. “But now I have a piece of paper that says you’re mine and mine alone.”

You ask with a playful giggle, shifting closer into his touch. “Yoongi, are you possessive?” It’s more a statement than a question; you already know the answer. He’s likely the most possessive guy you’ve ever met, but it’s a quality you adore, one that ignites a wild, untamed energy within you.

“You know I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” he murmurs, locking his gaze with yours. The intensity in his eyes makes you wonder if he’s truly afraid of losing you, even though he shouldn’t be. You’ve loved him for so many years, most of them spent in denial, but they still count. His possessiveness only reassures you of the depth of his feelings, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“You know I’d never leave you, right?” you whisper, your voice filled with unwavering devotion and the weight of all the years you’ve shared, your eyes searching his for the reassurance you know you don’t need but crave to give.

“Hmmm, yes I know. You love me and my big cock too much,” he laughs, glancing down as his dick twitches back to life.

“God, you’re so full of yourself,” you roll your eyes, only to moan as he pinches your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “But I guess it’s okay when you can back it up.”

“And yes, I love you,” you purr, your voice dripping with desire. “Now show me why I can’t get enough of that big cock of yours. I’m so wet already, Yoongi. Touch me,” you plead, spreading your legs even wider, a desperate invitation for his touch.

He licks his lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Then get on your hands and knees and lift that gorgeous ass for me, love.”

You shudder, anticipation coursing through you as you turn around and lift your hips, presenting yourself just the way he likes.

His hands glide over the curve of your ass, sending shivers through your body. His fingers find the straps of your suspenders, tugging them taut before releasing them to snap back against your skin. The sharp slap makes you hiss in pleasure, each stinging contact like a playful spank that only fuels your arousal, leaving you wetter by the second.

He does it again, and this time, a needy moan escapes your lips, the sound of it echoing through the van and blending with the rhythmic patter of rain outside.

You feel his hard cock press against your ass, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. The thought of him entering you, filling you completely, drives you wild with desire. You crave it, crave him, more than anything.

He seizes the suspenders once more, pulling them taut, their snap against your skin echoing in the confined space of the van, a sharp punctuation to the electric tension between you.

Fuck. You’re probably dripping on the sheets now.

With precision, he adjusts his position behind you, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he shifts your panties to the side, his fingers tracing the curves of your ass before the tantalizing sensation of his dick against your folds sends shivers down your spine.

“Down,” he purrs, his voice low and commanding, as he presses your back and head into the sheets with the firmness of his strong hand, igniting a primal thrill that courses through your veins.

You comply, sinking into the plush sheets, your anticipation mounting as you feel his cock teasing against your slick folds, yet he doesn’t yield to the sweet surrender of penetration.

With each powerful thrust, his hands firm on your hips, you feel the friction igniting a wildfire of need between you, his desire branding your skin with each passionate press.

“Fuck. You look so pretty in this. So sexy,” every movement sends ripples of pleasure through you, his words adding fuel to the fire of arousal burning within. His praise ignites a fierce longing, amplifying the intensity of every thrust against your folds, like he was fucking into you.

Desire courses through you like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought in its wake. The sensation of his fervent thrusts against your skin is intoxicating, yet beneath the surface, a primal yearning gnaws at your core, demanding to be sated with the ultimate union of your bodies.

Surging waves of pleasure crash over you, catching you off guard as your senses reel from the approaching climax. His name escapes your lips in ragged breaths, a fervent prayer whispered into the fabric of the sheets as ecstasy dances on the precipice of release.

As his tip brushes against your sensitive nub, a wave of ecstasy washes over you, eliciting a throaty moan of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, the intensity of sensation sending shivers down your spine. Every nerve ending ignites with desire, leaving you breathless and craving more. Fuck. Why does it feel this good? The question lingers in your mind, lost amidst the whirlwind of bliss.

“Do you think you can come like this?” His voice is a sultry whisper, laden with anticipation, as he plunges deeper onto your pussy. With each forceful thrust against your throbbing clit and slick folds, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

You clamp down on your lip, fighting back the wave of pleasure that threatens to engulf you completely.

Through a choked sob, you manage to gasp out a breathless affirmation, your voice trembling with anticipation and need. “Yes,” you confess, your admission punctuated by the primal rhythm of his thrusts, each one pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy.

Every nerve in your body hums with a delicious tension, coiled tight like a spring ready to burst. With each electrifying touch, each tantalizing thrust, you teeter on the edge of oblivion, your senses ablaze with the promise of release. You’re on the brink, trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, and you know it won’t take much more for him to send you spiraling into blissful chaos.

“I’m already close,” you gasp, your voice a breathless plea, heavy with need and desire.

That admission ignites a fire within Yoongi, prompting him to alter his rhythm, trading speed for slow deliberate, powerful thrusts.

Fuck! His cock now pounds against your clit with even more intensity, sending waves of exquisite sensation coursing through you. It’s almost unbearable. It feels fucking delicious and you can’t take it anymore.

The moment is so intense, and you cry out his name as pleasure washes over you, without his skilled fingers or tongue touching you. It’s mind-blowing.

“Good girl,” his words of praise rain down on you like a soothing melody, even as he continues his slower thrusts, allowing you to savor the waves of your orgasm that leave you trembling with desire.

“Fuck, Yoongi. That was amazing, I—,”

You’re cut off as Yoongi slowly eases his length into your entrance, the sensation of stretch mingling with pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. It’s intoxicatingly good, so utterly delicious, causing your fingers to clench around the sheets in a desperate grip.

“Fuck!” you pant, each inch he pushes in sending tremors of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending with a feverish intensity of lust.

“Shit, you’re always so tight. And taking me so well,” he praises you, his voice husky with desire as your body responds, your inner muscles clenching around him in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy, eliciting a deep, primal moan from him.

When he’s finally fully in, you feel a rush of relief flood through you, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His hands roam your ass with a possessive hunger, seeking out the suspenders once more. As he pulls on them, the satisfying slap against your skin sends a jolt of delight through you, causing you to instinctively clench around him, eager for more.

“You really like that huh?” he chuckles, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and desire, “I do too. Seeing you like this, feeling you react to me—it’s intoxicating.”

“Yes! Just fuck me, Yoongi. I need you, I want you. Fill me up. Fuck me good and make me yours,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire, each word punctuated by the heat of the moment.

“What my wife wants, she’ll get. You can count on that, love. I’ll fuck you good, don’t worry,” he reassures you with a firm pat on your back before plunging into you with renewed intensity, his movements becoming faster and harder with each thrust.

You moan uncontrollably, the sound escaping you in a crescendo of pleasure, unabashedly indulging in the obscenity of your own desire as he drives you to the brink with his relentless and skillful thrusts.

As he strikes that tender spot deep within you, a surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering you utterly powerless to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, each thrust opening you up to a realm of bliss.

“Shit, I’m happy that I’ve already come, otherwise I’d be done for already,” he gasps, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives himself deeper into you, each thrust a symphony of raw desire and primal need.

Your relief mirrors his own, knowing that this time together will stretch out deliciously, allowing you to savor every moment of his passion. The anticipation builds within you, a craving to witness every expression, every twitch of pleasure on his face.

“Yoongi, please, I wanna see your face while you fuck me,” you plead, yearning to lock eyes with him as he thrusts into you. You strain to turn your head, craving the connection, the intimacy of sharing this moment with him, body and soul.

He pauses, withdrawing his cock from you momentarily, his breaths heavy with anticipation. “Then flip over, love,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise, “Lie on your back, so I can see your face too as I make you mine.”

You comply, following his command eagerly, turning over and settling onto your back, legs parted invitingly. As he approaches, his dick in hand, slick with your essence, your anticipation heightens, every nerve alight with the promise of his touch.

“You look so gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as he guides his cock back into your pussy, each inch a testament to the intensity of your connection. A soft moan escapes your lips, his name a melody of pleasure on your tongue, as you revel in the ecstasy of his touch.

In this intimate position, you relish the opportunity to witness his unraveling, to see every expression of pleasure etched across his face as he reaches the pinnacle of ecstasy. When he finally succumbs to the waves of climax, it’s a sight that steals your breath away, one of the best in this world.

As he fills you up to the brim, a surge of affection floods through you, reflected in the warmth of your smile. With deliberate patience, he establishes a rhythm that's both tender and intense, each deliberate movement igniting a firestorm of sensation within you. The tantalizing dance of his hips against yours is almost torturous in its exquisite pleasure.

“You’re so handsome, Yoon,” you praise him, your voice a breathless whisper. “The way you’re making love to me right now… Fuck, it’s so good, I love it.”

You feel him twitch inside you, a subtle sign that he might not last as long as he thinks he will. A smirk dances across your lips, silently daring him to prove you wrong.

He descends to kiss you, the connection between your lips deep and passionate, matching the rhythm of his slow thrusts. The intimacy of the moment envelops you, igniting a fiery passion within. As he trails down to your neck, his kisses turn into playful nibbles, then a light bite, accompanied by a low, guttural groan of pleasure.

As his movements become more erratic, you sense his dick twitching more, prompting you to inquire, “Are you getting close again, Yoon?”

His voice, husky and filled with desire, caresses your ear as he murmurs your name, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes smoldering with lust. “Not yet,” he breathes, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes rove over your body as his hands follow suit, moving to your breasts. He tugs at the lace, pulling the cups and bra up to expose your bare skin, wanting to see you fully, unobstructed by the fabric.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing over your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of pleasure cascading through you.

With a teasing pinch of your nipples, he makes you hiss his name in pleasure, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips as he rolls his hips into you.

He moves down again, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making you arch your back in delight. He swirls his tongue around the bud before sucking hard, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

The knot in your stomach tightens, the sensation building rapidly. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge, almost ready to be pulled under, but not quite there yet.

“Fuck, Yoon. I’m so close,” you pant, your hands tangling in his black hair. You tug, making him release your nipple with a groan.

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice dripping with desire and affection.

“Touch my clit,” you pant, desperate and so fucking close, craving his touch to push you over the edge and come around his cock.

Before he sits back up, he leans in to kiss you deeply, then his hand finds your clit, teasing it lightly before tugging at the swollen nub. As his dick hits your soft spot, the pleasure intensifies, and you know you’re on the brink of coming, seeing stars with every thrust.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into your pussy. His fingers work your clit with vigor, perfectly synchronized with his thrusts. The light pressure on your clit is just right, deep enough to make you shudder, your toes curling in pure delight.

“Yoon!” you warn him, feeling your body tighten in response to his touch. Then, like a coiled spring released, you cream his cock, his fingers still swirling slow circles on your clit.

You pant for air, your body thrashing on the bed, but Yoongi, skilled and attentive, steadies you somewhat with his other hand.

“So pretty. You’re leaking,” Yoongi murmurs, his gaze fixed on the point where your bodies are joined. You sense his appreciation for the sight, the way his eyes trace the path of his cock disappearing into you. Damn, you love seeing it too, and his fascination with your joined bodies sends a thrill through you. You can only imagine the mesmerizing image below, your cum dripping out of you while he continues to fuck into you.

Your pussy pulsates around his dick, a rhythm of its own, coaxing a deep, primal sound from his lips as he spills his seed inside your warm, welcoming depths, filling you up with each pulse of his release.

“Shit, sorry,” he pants, his grip on your left leg tightening slightly as he adjusts his position, his breath hot against your skin.

You shake your head, a grin spreading across your lips. “Don’t apologize for not warning me, Yoon. I don’t care. You can come where and whenever you want.” Your words are laced with desire, your voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver down his spine.

You pull him down into your chest, enveloping him in the warmth of your embrace, his head resting against the softness of your breasts, while you feel a mixture of yours and his liquid seep out of you.

Yoongi breathes hard, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his exertion, his ear pressed against your chest, soaking in the comforting cadence of your heartbeat.

“Damn. It hit harder the second time. Caught me off guard,” he chuckles against your chest, his voice husky and tinged with fatigue, a testament to the intensity of your shared passion.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, your hands soothingly tracing patterns on his back, eliciting a shiver from him that resonates within you as you feel him twitch slightly inside your pussy.

You don’t want him to pull away from you yet, so you hold him close, relishing in the intoxicating blend of his musky and sweaty scent enveloping you.

“Thank you, Yoongi. For marrying me, for loving me,” you start, your voice heavy with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes, each word carrying the weight of years of pining, love from afar and all the moments you’ve shared with him.

He adjusts himself, his gaze locking with yours, “I should be the one thanking you. For loving me, for marrying me. For putting up with all my shit over the years.” His words carry a mix of gratitude and sincerity, a testament to the depth of his appreciation for your unwavering support and enduring love.

You chuckle softly, your eyes shimmering with affection. “Thank you for making today magical. With the twinkling lights and all the little surprises you had in store. You truly are the sweetest.” Your words are tender, carrying a warmth that reflects the depth of your appreciation for his thoughtfulness and effort.

With a soft smile, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.

As he draws back, his gaze sparkles with boundless affection, warming your heart and coaxing a smile from your lips in response.

“Where will our adventure take us for our honeymoon?” you inquire, drawing him close for another tender kiss, eager to embark on this new journey together.

“I’ve already booked it. You’ll wait and see, it’s a surprise” he declares with a grin, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. You’re left wondering if it’s a tropical paradise with sandy beaches or a lush, verdant haven tucked away in nature’s embrace.

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow @jeonsbabygirlsworld

Did you like it??? Are you excited for where they’re going on their honeymoon? 🥹

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therealcocoshady · 2 days

Text

Recovery - Chapter 40

Summary : Y/N tells Marshall she cheated on him.

Tags : Angst - Smut - Fluff

Thank you again to @shady-577 who kindly agreed to read this chapter beforehand and did a great job at motivating me when I was writing that SMUTTY part 🥵

Marshall stared at you for what felt like ages. He wasn’t mad, no. He was beyond livid. You’d seen him angry and pissed off before… or so you thought. He didn’t need to say a single word, though. The energy he exuded was enough for the whole block to know go he felt. You were feeling ashamed and helpless. It felt like there was absolutely nothing you could do and you just had to wait for his wrath to come down on you. Whatever it was that he was ready to throw at you, it was probably deserved, and there was no denying that. At some point, he had been silent for so long that you avoided his gaze. Him starting at you so silently was almost creepy. You were just sitting here, tears streaming down your face, waiting for him to say a word.

- Did he force you ? He finally asked.

- He didn’t, you said as you kept on crying.

- You wanted it ?! He asked in disbelief.

- No, I-, you began.

- So he did force you, he said as he cut you.

- No, you cried. I mean… I’m the one who kissed him.

- No you weren’t, he said. You wouldn’t do that. You would never.

- I did, you cried. And I’m so sorry. But I… I…

- You what ? He spat. You fell and your tongue accidentally ended up in his mouth ?!

- I kissed him because I needed to feel good again, you cried. I kissed him because I felt dirty and ashamed because the one person who said he would always have my back and protect me fed me to the wolves. I have spent all week being harassed on social media, witnessing people celebrating the return of Slim Shady and making awful montages of me ! I was feeling worthless and he was there. So yes, I kissed him. Because, for one split second, I felt seen and worthy again. I kissed him because I wanted to feel loved.

You were bawling, struggling to get the words out of your mouth, but it felt good. You could feel Marshall staring at you even though it was hard to decipher his expression, your vision being clouded by the tears in your eyes.

- I know I shouldn’t have, you said. I know it’s wrong and I hate myself for betraying you this way. I’m so sorry… and I know cheating is never ok but…

- Did you sleep with him ? He asked.

- No, you replied earnestly. It was just a kiss.

- How was it ?

- How was what ? You asked confused.

- Describe it, he instructed. I want to know.

- I… it was a kiss, you said. Just a kiss.

- How did it feel ? He asked. Did you like it ?

- Familiar, you replied. Comfortable. But I-I didn’t like it.

- Why is that ?

- Marshall, do we have to do this ? You asked with pleading eyes. I’m so sorry…

- Answer me, he said coldly.

- I… I didn’t like it because it didn’t feel right, you said. I immediately regretted it. Because it was familiar and it felt safe but it wasn’t you.

- Do you love him ? He asked. Is he the one you want to be with ?

- No. Of course not ! You cried. You’re the one I want to be with ! But I was hurt, and lost, and I know it doesn’t make it right but… there’s nothing else I can say. I fucked up.

He nodded and stayed silent. He took his face in his hands and didn’t move for a couple of minutes. Then, he took a breath and looked at you intently.

- Alright, he said.

- Alright ? You asked nervously.

- Do you want to be with me ? He asked back.

- I… yes, you said.

You were lost. You expected him to leave you on the spot, insult you… hell, even though you knew he wasn’t violent, you would have expected him to hit you rather than the reaction he was having.

- Good, he said. We’re going to get through it.

- Aren’t you mad ? You asked in confusion.

- I’m not mad, Y/N, he stated. I am beyond mad. But it doesn’t change what I said ten minutes ago. I love you, I want to be with you and we will get through this.

- O-ok, you said as you tried to dry your tears.

- Here’s what we’re going to do : you’re going to pack your bags and you’re coming home with me. Tonight. And tomorrow, I’m booking a therapy session for the both of us. Alright ?

- Ok, you nodded nervously.

You went upstairs and quickly prepared your things. When you went back downstairs, he was speaking with Talia and Jamal. Things seemed tense but civil nonetheless. You hugged your friends and thanked them profusely for taking care of you.

- Call us if you need anything, baby, Talia said.

- Of course, you replied.

- And you, Jamal told Marshall, you better take good care of her. Understood ? I swear on Talia, if you fuck it up…

- Yeah, Marshall replied. I know.

They stared at each other for a second before eventually dapping each other and you went on your way. The car ride home was relatively silent. You weren’t too sure what to say. As soon as Marshall said he wanted to work things out and that he didn’t want to dump you, you had felt relieved but now it was becoming apparent that the hardest part might be in front of you, not behind. He carried your bags and you went to the bedroom.

- Time for bed, he said. You look exhausted. I’ll call the therapist in the morning.

- Ok, you said timidly. Marshall, I… I’m really sorry, you know ?

- I know, he said. I’m sorry too.

You looked in his eyes, hoping to find something you could hold on to, in order to feel safe, more at ease. He was staring intently but his jaw was clenched. There was a hardness to him. You immediately lowered your gaze. He placed a hand on your shoulder and a chaste kiss on your forehead.

- I’ll let you get ready for bed, he said.

- Aren’t you coming ? You asked nervously.

- Yeah, in a minute.

He disappeared and you unpacked your bags, before grabbing a nightgown and matching silk robe from your closet. You got in bed and waited for Marshall. It was your first time sleeping in your bed in a week and, even though it was your house, your bedroom, it felt foreign. Without Marshall by your side, the bed was cold. You waited for a couple of hours but he didn’t come. You nervously got up and went downstairs, where you found him sitting on the couch, face in his hands.

- Marshall…? You asked.

- Sorry, he said. I’m coming. I just need a minute.

- Are you alright…?

- Of course not, he scoffed. How the fuck can I be alright when my woman kissed someone else ?! When someone else touched her ?! How can you expect me to be alright when you went and made out with your fucking ex boyfriend ?!

- I’m sorry, you said as tears started welling in your eyes.

- Being sorry doesn’t change anything, he replied coldly. I should know.

You nodded nervously as the tears started to silently stream down your face. He looked at you and sighed.

- Go back to bed, honey, he said. I’ll sleep here tonight.

- You could always take the guest room, you said.

- I’d rather keep my distance, he said. I’m sorry.

- And not even sleep on the same floor ? You asked. Look, if you don’t think we can-

- I want us to work things out, he said. I do. And I want you with me. That’s the plan. But right now, I’m pissed and you don’t want me around, babe. I swear.

- Why ? You asked as you sat next to him. You said we can get through this. Because it’s us.

- Because, right now, the only thing on my mind is to remind you of whose girlfriend you are, he groaned. Of who you belong to. Of taking back everything that’s mine, that this motherfucker got his hands on.

His eyes were dark and, from the tone of his voice, you knew just how he wanted to remind you that you were his. Truth was, even when you kissed Simon, you had never stopped being Marshall’s. Not even for a second. Which was probably the worst thing about all of it. You looked at him for a second and let your silk robe fall to the floor, leaving you in your nightgown. He stared at you intently, not saying a word.

- ok, you simply whispered.

- You want this ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- I want you, you nodded.

- I won’t be nice, he said.

- Don’t be nice, then.

His arm reached for you and pulled you to him. You were straddling his lap, trying to find balance when he kissed you hungrily. One of his hands was on your hip while the other was on your neck, letting you know he was in charge. You weren’t wearing anything under your nightgown, so your pussy was completely bare against his thigh. You let out a moan and he gently bit your lip before resuming the intense making out.

- Is that how you kissed him ? He asked. Did he ever kiss you like this ?

- N-No, you said breathily.

- Good, he said coldly. Now, tell me, where did he touch you ?

- What ? You asked in confusion.

- Where were his hands ? He asked. I need to know.

- He… he cupped my face, you said nervously. And he touched my shoulder… and he had his hand on my hip.

He brought a hand to your face, stroking your cheek. Then, he placed his hands right where you had described Simon touching you.

- like this ? He asked.

- Yes, you nodded.

He tightened his grip on you and kissed you again, making you feel just how possessive he was.

- You said you were mine, he reminded you. The night we got together. You said it.

- I am yours, you replied in a pleading voice.

- So you think you can just go and give away what is mine ? He groaned.

- N-No, you said. I’m yours. I’m all yours.

- Is that mouth mine ? He asked in between kisses.

- Yes, you almost cried. It’s yours.

- Show me, then, he directed.

You proceeded to kiss him softly, cupping his face, running your fingers in his hair. He hummed into the kiss before letting out a groan. Then, without giving you any notice, he planted a kiss in your neck before sucking on it, causing you to gasp a the intensity. You knew it would leave a mark but you didn’t care one bit in that moment. Then, his mouth went to your shoulder, right where Simon had touched you, and he bit it, not too harshly, but enough for his teeth to leave a mark.

- Mine, he groaned. You’re mine.

You nodded and, before you could say anything, he was ripping your silk nightgown off your body and biting your hip before sucking on it, causing you to let out a small cry. His piercing blue gaze inspected you, as if to make sure you were ok, and he kissed you again, letting his hands wander on your body. You were under his spell, willing to please him and let him know you were his, his only. You fell to your knees and looked at him, asking for permission. He simply nodded, letting you get to work. You undid his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. You pumped it a couple of times before starting to lick and suck on it. You closed your eyes, focusing, and heard him gasp as his length reached the back of your throat, triggering a bit of a gag reflex on your part. You kept on sucking, trying to take as much of him as you could.

- This mouth is mine, huh ? He asked.

You nodded and he gently stroked your cheek before putting your hair into a makeshift ponytail and using it to direct your movements. Before you knew it, he was fucking your mouth as you were trying to keep up. You were a drooling mess, with tears streaming down your cheeks. You half expected him to come in your mouth but he didn’t. In fact, he kept going for a long time, your jaw starting to ache. At one point, though, you couldn’t take it anymore and had to tap on his thigh to let him notice you were gasping for air. When he let go of your mouth, his cock was shining, full of your saliva. While you were composing yourself, breathing some much needed air, he shed the rest of his clothes and, when he was done, he grabbed your hand and helped you get back up.

- I’m not done with you, he said. I’m going to remind you who you belong to. So that you never forget it again.

You nodded and he kissed you before having you bend over the dining room table, your tits against the cold glass. You felt his hand on your butt, squeezing it, giving it a little slap. He kneeled behind you and started licking your pussy, no doubt feeling how wet you were. You could hear the sound of your own arousal when he inserted two fingers, curving them so they’d hit just the right spot. His tongue was stroking your clit, making you see stars.

- I’m going to come, you warned.

- No, he said firmly as he stopped what he was doing.

- Wh-what ? You asked.

- I decide when you come, he said. You don’t.

You were about to protest when he grabbed you firmly and had you sit on the edge of the table before entering you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, trying to find balance while he was pounding hard into you. He usually gave you some time to get used to him being inside but not this time. You were gasping and moaning each time he hit your cervix. And right when you were going to come, he stopped and had you change position, putting you in doggystyle on the couch. He resumed the thrusting, one hand playing with your clit, the other gently teasing your asshole while he was pounding into you. This had you losing your mind and you were unable to hold your orgasm. Your legs were shaking and tears were rolling down your cheeks as you were crying in pleasure.

- What did I say about cumming ? Marshall asked.

- I’m sorry, you panted.

- If you want orgasms, I’ll give you some, he said with a grin.

He made you come again and again, using and abusing your holes. Everything around you was a blur and your senses could only focus on Marshall, sliding in and out of you, leaving bites all over your body. You weren’t even capable of forming coherent thoughts and simply mumbled « ohs » and « ahs ». With everybody orgasm, you were sure you couldn’t take any more but he gladly proved you wrong.

- Did he ever fuck you like this ? He asked.

- Who ?

- That motherfucker, he groaned. Don’t make me say his name. Did he ever make you come like this ? Did he ever make you squirt like that ?

- N-no, you cried. No, he didn’t.

- That’s right, he said as he kept on stroking your clit.

You could feel your limbs spasming and, as he tried to get you to ride him, you found that you were absolutely unable to stand. You started doubting that you were able to go again but he encouraged you as he fucked himself into you.

- One more, baby, he said. Give me one more.

- I can’t, you cried.

- Yes you can, he said before biting your neck once again.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull and, for half a second, you wondered if there was such a thing as dying from too many orgasms. Was it the death you were destined to die ? Dying in the arms of Marshall as he bottomed into you, causing screams of equal pain and pleasure ? But you couldn’t tell him to stop. Not even if you wanted to. And you didn’t even want to. You felt your muscles contracting around him one last time and he almost stopped, causing you to whimper and cry in frustration.

- Whose pussy is it ? He asked.

- Min- No, no, yours !

- Who do you belong to ? He asked again.

- You, you cried. I-I belong to you.

He let out a grunt and thrusted into you a couple more times, chasing both of your highs. You felt him twitch inside of you as he came inside, before collapsing on top of you. You were trembling and shuddering, crying tears of pleasure and pain. You were sure you blacked out for a moment. When you came to your senses, Marshall’s fingers were tracing the features on your face.

- I love you, he said emotionally.

- I love you too, you mumbled.

- Are you ok ? He asked with a concerned look.

- Mmmmmh, you groaned.

- Mmmh yes or mmmmh no ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- Mmmyes, you painfully articulated.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you realized just how sweaty you were. You were laying on the floor, in a puddle of your own release. As you slowly regained your senses, you took notice of just how sore you were and, as soon as you tried sitting up, you let out a painful gasp. Evidently, your body has been put through a lot.

- Don’t move, honey, he directed.

- M’so sore, you complained.

- I bet, he said softly. How about a bath ?

You nodded and closed your eyes. You were feeling completely spent and unsure whether or not you’d be able to move ever again. He lifted you and carried you bridal style to the bathroom where he drew a bath for the both of you. He was incredibly soft and gentle, contrasting with the roughness with which he had fucked you senseless. Every part of your body was sore, from your throat to your pussy and ass, to your legs, without mentioning your neck and back. Marshall gently lathered you with soap and massaged your back. As his hands went to your legs, you automatically closed them.

- Don’t worry, I’m done with you for now, he chuckled.

- You better be, you mumbled. Nearly killed me.

He scoffed and placed a small kiss on your shoulder before applying some cleanser to your face, which direly needed it. Between drool, sweat and other bodily fluids that had dried on it, it felt terrible. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the softness of Marshall’s touch. He seemed to be back to his and loving self. When you were done with the bath, he wrapped you in a towel and carried you to the bedroom. He let you down on the bed and went to his closet to get some comfy clothes for you to wear.

- Sorry I tore the nightgown, babe, he said as he helped you get dressed. I’ll get you another one.

- Ok, you yawned.

You let your head fall on the pillow and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, making sure you were comfortable. He asked you a couple of questions but most of your responses were monosyllabic. You were all sore, fucked-out and overall exhausted. He got up and, as he reached the door, you were suddenly worried.

- You’re leaving ? You asked anxiously in a throaty voice.

- I think I have some cleaning to do downstairs, he replied with a smirk.

- Oh, right, you mumbled.

- I’ll come back with water and snacks in a few. You just rest, ok ?

- Thanks for taking care of me, you whispered.

- I love you, you know ? He asked.

- I love you too, you said emotionally. And I am yours. All yours.

- I know, he said.

He went downstairs and you glanced at the window. It was already morning and the sun was rising. It was beautiful and it gave you a sense of peace. When Marshall came back, you were staring at the sun dreamily. He handed you a bottle of water and sat in bed next to you.

- It’s beautiful, you said.

- It is, he agreed.

You turned and noticed he was staring at you. You blushed and lowered your gaze. He cupped your face and kissed you gently.

- We should sleep, baby, he said.

You nodded and laid down. He cuddled you in a spoon position, stroking your hair and tracing circles on your scalp.

- Are you ok ? You asked. Are you still… mad ?

- I don’t know. I think I’m still hurt, he admitted.

- I’m sorry, you said. I really am…

- I know, baby, he said. So am I.

- Do you think we’ll be ok ? You asked nervously.

- I hope so, he said. That’s what I want. I want us to forgive each other and move on.

You nodded and turned around, burying your face in his neck. He mumbled a few love words in your ear and you fell asleep in his arms.

When you woke up, you were still exhausted. You were alone in bed and assumed Marshall had gone to the studio to get some work done. Your whole body was sore and you struggled to get out of bed to go downstairs. As soon as you got in the living room, you were met with Marshall, who was speaking to Tracy. You immediately felt self-conscious to appear in Marshall’s clothes, with messy hair and a morning face. You also wondered what she was doing here. You knew that, before you lived here, she often came to Marshall’s place for work purposes, but ever since you had moved in, she hadn’t been around - which was fine with you.

- Hey babe, Marshall said with a smile. Didn’t think you’d be up so early.

- Bed was empty, you shrugged. Hi Tracy.

- Hi, Y/N, she said rather awkwardly. I… didn’t realize you were back.

- I am, you said equally awkwardly. I… live here, you know ?

- I know, she said. I just… Marshall mentioned you weren’t there, lately. But I’m glad to see you’re back !

The whole thing was rather awkward. She was staring at you intently. You were in Marshall’s clothes and it definitely had a pajama feel to it, but at least, you were decent. You shot a glance at Marshall, as if to ask what her deal was. He stared back and pretended to scratch his neck. You raised an eyebrow and looked at the mirror. You were wearing an oversized tee-shirt and sweatpants but they didn’t hide the marks all over your arms and necks. You looked as if you’d been in a car crash, or attacked by some psychopath. You expected to see some hickies, but were definitely surprised to notice bruises and some distinct bite marks, in your neck and all over your arms. You didn’t even remember Marshall biting you there. You covered your mouth and felt your face flush with embarrassment.

- So, there’s what you asked for, Tracy said as she handed Marshall a bag. I’ll be at the office with Paul all day. Call me if you need anything ?

- Thanks, Marshall said. Can you cancel my recording session with Royce tomorrow ? I need the afternoon free.

She left and Marshall handed you the bag Tracy had given him. It was a new phone.

- Sent her to the Apple Store this morning, he chuckled. Figured you’d need a new one.

- Thanks, you said before kissing his cheek. I wondered what she was doing here.

- I know you don’t like being around her, but I couldn’t exactly go there by myself without causing a riot, he chuckled. Last time I tried was a nightmare. I would have ordered in online but delivery takes longer.

- I’ll admit that having an assistant must come in handy, you giggled. She did not seem happy to see me.

- I think she was just surprised, he shrugged. By your appearance, mostly.

- Speaking of which… you fucking marked me !

- I think I got a little carried away, he admitted. But in my defense, every time I bit you, you moaned in pleasure. I simply obliged.

- So it’s not a revenge because you’re jealous ? You asked with a raised eyebrow.

- I’ll plead the fifth, he chuckled. Guess it’ll serve as a reminder that you are spoken for. Both for you and the rest of the world.

- I think the rest of the world will call 911 if they see me like this, you pointed out. You’re crazy !

- About you, yes, he said with a smile. Speaking of crazy… we have an appointment for therapy tomorrow.

- Ok, you said nervously. Do you think it’s going to work ?

- I’m willing to try anything, he said. I’m not losing you. I’m not giving up on us.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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cameronspecial · 3 days

Note

HIII I love your Dad!Drew Starkey x reader and I seen this video and I was wondering if you can write something about is with Dad!Drew Starkey x Black!reader? https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5v1u4kp62A/?igsh=MW1pZTBxOXJ1NnM3MQ==

If not just ignore this and please tag me in it💛

Save Me, Daddy

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

A/N: This isn't Black!Reader exactly because I try to write the reader as neutral as possible. I hope that it is okay. Also, I am sorry I can't tag you because you are in anonymous mode. If you are off of it, then it will automatically inform you when I post the requests. If you want to join my taglist, then feel free to contact me in anyway.

Masterlist

Being a parent is never easy, Y/N knew that coming into it. Nevertheless, Wilson always finds a new way to make it not simple for his mother. She leaves the three-year-old on the couch, watching TV, to go to the bathroom. When she returns, she finds the lotion that was on the side table is now on the floor with her son. His small hand repeatedly pressing the pump makes it worse. Globs of white shoot out of the hole and onto the carpet, releasing the eucalyptus scent into the air. “WILSON XAVIER STARKEY, what are you doing?” she exclaims. The little boy freezes and turns to his mother with wide eyes. “Hi, Mommy,” he tries to play off. He hasn’t grown into his father’s acting skills because his guilt is written all over his face. If he becomes a criminal when he grows up, she really hopes he gets better at acting or else she might have to spend his teenage years picking him up from jail. She shakes her head, “Don’t hi, Mommy me,” she criticizes. Their head turns to the sound of the front door opening and at the appearance of his father in the doorway, Wilson goes dashing towards the male with the grocery bags.

“Hey there, Slugger. What’s with the running?” Drew comments, laughing as Wilson wraps around his legs. Y/N points toward the dry lotion, “Look at what your son did. It’s my new expensive lotion too.” His eyes flick to the scene of the crime, stifling a laugh at the scene in front of him. “This isn’t funny, Drew. It’s a mess,” she lectures him, almost as if he is the one to make it. He throws on a neutral expression and nods. “You’re are right and Wils is going to clean it up. Then we’ll go to the store to buy you a new lotion for when that one runs out,” he offers. She looks between him and her son, “Yes, you will. Wilson, go get some paper towels from the kitchen.

The small boy runs off and they can hear his stool being moved a little so he can grab the roll. He rushes back, getting to work immediately. A sheet of paper falls on the lotion puddle and he begins to scrub. Satisfied that he is working, she turns to her husband. “Watch him, please. I’m going to go take a bath.” Without another word, she begins to make her way upstairs. Wilson looks behind him to see his mom out of sight and turns his attention to his dad. “Save me, Daddy, please,” he whispers. Except, Y/N isn’t far enough and she hears his pleas, “Nope, you made the mess, Wilson. You clean it.” The young boy’s head whips back to his cleaning, but he looks up at Drew with big eyes. Drew gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Sorry, Slugger. This is Mommy’s world and we are just living in it.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#drew #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fic #dad!drew starkey #dad!drew

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ethruia · 2 days

Text

ONE NIGHT ONLY — 9. life360 doesn’t gatekeep

synopsis — three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

a/n; IM SO SORRY FOR ANOTHER WRITTEN PART

prev | m.list | next

TAGS; @j2upiters @aerivrs @haesluvr @hyuck-me @tywritesstuff @aek1ra @ourbeautifulaffair @222brainrot @bugcattie @nosungluv @manooffline @amrqxz @haechansbbg @odxrilove

YOU SLOWED DOWN YOUR CAR AS YOU TURNED INTO THE PARKING LOT.

the arcade your friends decided to go to was called ‘pete’s paradise’. it was slightly small but jam packed with different rows filled with a variety of games. your friends always loved to go there after yangyang got off work to play air hockey. anton always complained that karina was too good for the group and never wanted to go against her because he knew he would lose. when you walked up to the entrance to pete’s haechan and jisung were standing by the doors waiting for you to arrive. you said your hello’s to the two of them entered the building.

you immediately spotted your friends by the dance dance revolution machine, jaemin and giselle were both playing while anton was bickering with yangyang and karina.

“well it’s not my fault you were acting like we haven’t seen each other for ten years” anton shrugged.

“it’s called an expression you idiot” karina rolled her eyes. “your brain just too small to figure out context clues” she turned away from anton and noticed you three at the door.

“yn! you’re here!” she ran over and gave you a hug. the rest of the group followed after when they noticed she said your name.

“i see you followed our advice and brought jisung! just a little surprise to see haechan too” giselle spoke up, as it was your turn to give her a hug next.

“um yeah.. we didn’t want to exclude him i hope that’s okay” you were quite nervous about giselle and haechan in the same room but hopefully she would stay true to her word and not be too bothered with you two.

after awhile things tended to get less awkward and everyone was having fun — anton was playing whack-a-mole with jisung, yangyang was with jaemin and giselle and they were playing some racing game, and that left karina with you as haechan went to the bathroom. you took the time spent with her to tell her about how you’ve been feeling so you could finally get advice from a third party.

“haechan has a crush on me. he told me a few days ago and i don’t know how to feel about it. i mean i had a crush on him in high school but it was too late, he was already with giselle. now i feel like i shouldn’t do anything about it because you know how heartbroken he left her and i don’t want to make her upset or uncomfortable” you were fidgeting with your fingers when you looked at her as she was trying to piece together a response.

“well you can’t control someone you like. i know you don’t want to hurt giselle but i think you should go for it. they broke up almost four years ago, plus she has a really nice thing going on with jaemin right now. she did say not to date him and as much as i don’t want secrets in the group, you should date him” she was confirming the only real way you had to go about this — a secret relationship.

“he’s taking me on a date later after we leave”

“what about jake? you didn’t break up that long ago, i know your feelings for haechan are genuine but you still got hurt recently” her voice was filled with concern.

“i am definitely hurt but i think him leaving me for yuna made me feel like there wasn’t even a point for me to even be upset, he was distant even before we broke up there really isn’t any surprises” karina looked at you like she was giving you her approval and that’s all you needed. you would talk to giselle on your own soon but first you had to put your relationship with donghyuck first.

while you were having your talk with karina, giselle was also having a conversation with yangyang.

“i feel a little upset with them being together if i’m being honest, but i know i should probably get over it” she gave a slight smile as she knew that she couldn’t block out what was happening between you two. “i know they’ve been best friends for years and now that they’ve rekindled it i shouldn’t feel this way, but i just feel a lot of the repressed emotions from before i guess”

“and your feelings are valid you know,” yangyang took a slight pause. “he was your first real relationship, your first true love. it would only make sense it hurts to see him”

“i just don’t want to ruin this for yn. she’s my best friend and i don’t want to hurt her because i ‘forbid’ her from associating someone she spent so many years with”

“just give it time — for now just focus on the fashion show and then give it some more thought after” yangyang squeezed her hand as he got up and walked with her back over to where jaemin was playing skee-ball.

for the next 2 hours everyone spent time rotating the games until it was the time to go their separate ways. you said goodbye to everyone until it was time to finally leave with haechan.

“you ready?” haechan took your hand and guided you to your car.

“are you ready to be a passenger princess?”

“i’m always ready to be your passenger princess you don’t even need to ask” he got into the car and showed you where he wanted to take you — a small shopping district not too far away from where you were.

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gravehags · 21 hours

Text

how to adopt and care for your ghouls

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT

Words: 1,966

Tags: established relationship, hijinks, fade to black (mostly) smut, ghouls doing ghoul shit, ghouls imprinting on reader like a bunch of feral kittens, copia going through it, hint at potential future uhhhh ghoulette/reader action maybe?

a/n: this is so stupid i'm obsessed with it

~~~

“That’s all the new ghouls settled in the den, then,” you announce, tired but accomplished. You shut the door with your hip and toe off your shoes before launching yourself into the arms of your beloved who is currently seated on the couch.

“Oof! Bene, bene, thank you for taking this on, amore. You know I could have had a sibling do this, si?”

“Yeah,” you say, wiggling your way under the blanket and looking at the TV, currently on mute and playing some reality show, “I suppose but I don’t know, this is a huge step you’re taking and I wanted to support you in any way I can. Almost like I love and cherish you and want your success, as wild as that may sound.”

“You…love me?!” he scoffs, reaching to the side and hauling you on top of him as you squeal inelegantly, “I see why you might. I am very handsome, and smart, and successful, and did you know I have a band, bella signorina?”

“No!” you gasp, “A band? You? You never mentioned that to me, not even once, not even a little bit. I just thought you were some hot weird priest and well, I have hierophilia, so naturally–”

He shuts you up by firmly pressing his lips against yours, both of you giggling in between kisses. When you pull away and push yourself off the couch, backing up towards the bedroom he follows, stalking you with a sinister grin.

“Hierophilia, eh?” he purrs as you bump into the doorway and lean against it, “Does this agnellino require penance for her sins?”

You take your lower lip between your teeth and smile.

“Your Eminence, I’ve never seen you without your cassock before,” you murmur, eyes raking over his t-shirt, the red sweatpants, and the lovely, familiar tent in them that has your mouth watering, “It makes this so much easier.”

When you slowly lower yourself to your knees as he approaches, you hear him chuckle before sliding a bare hand into your hair.

“Go on then, ragazza mia,” he groans as you lower the waistband of his pants and take him out, “Show me how that–ah–pretty little mouth can atone.”

Your lips slide off the head only for a moment, your hand wrapped around him and stroking lazily.

“Thank you, Your Eminence.”

By the time the two of you crawl to bed, you’re both ruined and exhausted and entirely satisfied.

–

“Cazzo!”

You hear the curse loud and clear through the door to the rehearsal room and wince, your hand on the doorknob. The shouting continues as you cautiously open the door and eight heads swivel over to look at you. Your beloved looks exhausted and red faced, hair disheveled and midway through gesticulating wildly when he immediately drops his hands and his anger and scuttles over to you.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” you say, watching Copia attempt to push back the strands hanging in his face.

“No, no,” he waves, turning to cast his gaze behind him at the seated ghouls who still watch you intently. “I, eh. Amore can you–can you watch them for a moment? Five minutes, maybe ten? I need to uh…recompose myself. These fucking ghouls will not listen.”

The last part is hissed out as you cup his cheek, nodding.

“Go, take as long as you need.”

He turns his head to press a swift kiss to your palm before stalking out. A silence rings out as you turn to look at the infernal beings staring at you like raccoons caught in the garbage cans.

“Hey…guys,” you begin, slowly walking over to them. “I don’t know if you remember me but–”

“Of course we remember you,” the shorter ghoulette whispers, her tone reverent, “You’re the one who took care of us after we were brought here.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, surprised, “I-I mean I just made sure everyone got settled. You know, made sure everyone was comfortable. I don’t even think we know each other’s names.”

So you tell them yours.

And they tell you theirs.

And from there it’s a blur.

You don’t know who pulled you into a chair first - maybe Swiss? But all of a sudden you’ve got ghouls draped all over you, their tails wagging gleefully as they gaze at you with adoration.

“Are you the Cardinal’s mate?”

“Your eyes are so pretty.”

“Can you tell the Cardinal to stop calling us ‘piccoli stronzi’?”

“Are you single?”

You’re not sure who said what but that last question you definitely know is from Swiss by the way he grins at you and winks before being elbowed sharply in the ribs by Cirrus.

“Ok first,” you say, your heart full as Aether shifts to lay his head in your lap, “Tell me why Copia was shouting. What did you guys do?”

“Ugh,” Cirrus says, crossing her arms and canting her hips, “That. He’s pissed because he was trying to tell us how to do our jobs.”

“Well…” you say, “That’s kind of his job, isn’t it?”

“He’s no Papa,” Dewdrop huffs, slumping in his chair. You eye the scarring on the sides of his neck from his elemental transition and your heart hurts for him. Copia was deeply aggrieved about that particular ritual and though you weren’t present for it like you were for the summonings, hearing about it from him was enough to understand the brutality of it.

“He may not be Papa,” you begin carefully, “But he summoned you. Well, most of you. There is no Ghost project without him but also without any of you. You all have a symbiosis with him and…he just wants everything to go right. To be perfect. Surely you understand the stress on his shoulders to not fuck this up, yeah?”

Aether grunts from your lap.

“Wish you were the head of the Ghost project,” Rain murmurs, while towering Mountain nods in agreement. You laugh.

“None of you want to hear me sing, trust me,” you say, idly dragging your fingers through Aether’s hair as Cumulus and Cirrus watch with poorly concealed jealousy, “but my beloved has so much to give. I just ask that you give him a chance. For me.”

You don’t get a response as you hear the door shut behind you.

“Amore,” Copia says, looking a great deal more relaxed but wary as he beholds your captive audience, “This is an…interesting turn of events.”

When a disheveled Aether lifts his head off your lap and gives Copia a lazy grin, you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing.

“She was giving us a pep talk,” Cumulus chirps, rocking back onto her heels, “Really motivational stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Copia says, still cautious.

“Ok everyone,” Cirrus claps sharply, “Back to your instruments. We got an album to learn. Right, boss?”

The ghouls all look to Copia, but Copia is too busy looking at you to notice. You smile and shrug.

“I’ll uh…leave you all to it,” you say, standing up and walking over to your love to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, “See you later, hon. And…be sweet to them, hmm? For me?”

It’s the last time you hear Copia shout in that practice room.

–

You’re nice and cozy in bed, nestled against the pillows and watching stupid cat videos on your phone when there’s a soft knock at the door. At first you think maybe Copia forgot his keys but surely he would have texted you? You throw the covers back and slide off the mattress to pad over to the door. When you open it you expect to see your beloved, perhaps one of the papas, but instead there are…two ghouls.

“Hi,” the taller of the two says, trademark grin on his face. His companion stands silent, shoulders squared and arms behind his back.

“Hey Swiss, Dewdrop,” you say, smiling at them. “If you’re looking for Copia he’s–”

“We’re not,” Dewdrop says flatly, and his tone makes you laugh against your better judgment.

“Oh! Okay. Are…are you looking for me?”

Swiss nods eagerly.

“We uh,” he starts, rubbing his palms, “don’t feel good.”

Dewdrop shakes his head solemnly.

“Uh-huh,” you say, crossing your arms, “I mean, the infirmary will probably be able to help you better than I can but I’ll try my best. What’s up?”

“We can’t sleep,” Dew pipes up.

“Nope, not a wink,” Swiss confirms.

“I mean I’ve got some sleeping meds - can you guys take sleeping meds? Oh God, I don’t want to kill one of you I–”

“Can we stay with you?” Dew asks quietly.

You smirk.

“This your clever way of getting into my bed?”

Swiss coughs and Dew grins, teeth sharp.

“I mean, you said it, not us,” Swiss laughs, “but since you offered–”

You make a quiet noise of protest as the ghouls sidle into Copia’s living room, looking around. You shut the door, shaking your head.

“No funny business, my loves,” you coo, walking back to the bedroom with them on your heels.

“Oh we wouldn’t do that to Cumulus and Cirrus. O-or the Cardinal.”

You spin on your heel.

“What was that about Cumulus and Cirrus?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison, faces unreadable.

You eye them both suspiciously before climbing back into your now cold bed, scooting to the middle.

“Well, come on,” you say, waving them over. Swiss climbs in on your right side and Dewdrop on your left, snuggling into you. You’re not sure if it’s just your imagination but you swear Dew is emanating warmth. It makes your eyelids heavy and you yawn so deeply your jaw cracks.

“Alright you two bozos, time for bed.”

“Thank you Lady Copia,” Dew says, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Christ, please don’t call me that,” you sigh, tilting your head to rest on Swiss’. As your companions drift off a steady purr begins to rumble between the two of them, lulling you to sleep.

“What the fuck?!”

Your eyes snap open and you choke on your gasp upon seeing a figure in the dark and a glowing white eye staring down at you. The light comes on not long after, and you blink up at your love.

“Hey, hon,” you say, your voice hoarse. “What’s wr–oh.”

The two ghouls are still in your bed, eyes shut. Swiss has his leg slung between yours and both have their arms wrapped around your waist.

“At the risk of sounding like a cliche,” you murmur, yawning, “it’s not what it looks like.”

Copia glowers down at the three of you.

“Is that right?”

He’s being so very loud, your beloved.

“Shh bello mio, they’re sleeping.”

“In my fucking bed,” he hisses. You know he’s annoyed but you’re just glad he’s being quieter about it now. He throws his hands up and starts muttering in furious Italian.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell them to move. Guys,” you say, nudging them gently, “guys you gotta get up. Copia thinks we’re having a torrid affair.”

Neither of them stir but Swiss starts snoring loudly and you swear you hear a snicker from Dew.

Copia looks incensed.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t even move let alone make them move.”

“Stronzi,” Copia growls, “get out of my bed and your hands off my love or I will send you back to the fucking pit.”

There’s definitely no mistaking Dew’s laughter this time and you have to bite your lip to muffle your own as you look up at your furious lover. He hovers over the three of you, fuming for a minute before turning on his heel and stomping off to the living room to fling himself onto the couch. As you fall back asleep, arousal stirs in your belly imagining the ways he’s going to make you pay.

You hope it involves penance.

#curator reader series #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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angstigone · 2 days

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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲) (𝟑/𝟒)

the title is a lyric from the song 'give me everything' by pitbull (feat ne-yo and afrojack)

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘂 𝘅 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝗔𝗨)

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 (𝟭): 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 (𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱) 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟐) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟑): '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭) 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

before going any further I'd just like to put this disclaimer that I am absolutely not responsible for any emotional damages that will come from reading this chapter and I apologize for any possible trauma unlocked.

I am sorry.

with this being said as always, I'd love to hear your opinions through reblogs and comments, as they do make me write faster and better and I am going to be tagging @ffsg0jo and @arcielee!

also last night I got hit by an extreme yearning for nanami and an idea for a regency/bridgerton au for his as well, so pls be warned and let me know whether you liked the idea (it's very 'princess and the pauper' barbie, because - according to me - that's the movie with the best prince).

have a nice day!

SUMMARY: when all your and your husband's secrets comes finally up.

You had never thought throughout your life that it’d be Satorou Gojo who would be feeling awkward being stared down by your beloved brother while you sat beside your mother and recounted to her the wonders of your new position, starting from the wondrous gardens you could wander into, any day to your heart’s content. «… you should visit us before the good season ends, Haibara» you muttered softly as both your brother and husband startled and after a meaningful look they both resulted into a merciful submission.

WARNINGS: angst, mention of past child abuse and familial complexities, slight toxic behaviors between reader and gojo, mention and discussion of sex (not graphic) and a character suggesting that reader put on weight (although not in a mean way), geto suguru being #1 shipper of this, she/her pronouns, afab character, regency/bridgerton au.

It felt silly how happy you now felt after the utter sadness that you had gone throughout your first day of marriage, as you lightly pushed your husband away from your gowns; he had meant to hide his face underneath while the carriage came to an halt, signaling further that Satorou’s misbehavior was done for the day.

«Enough, Satorou!» you further conveyed your displeasure although it did little as you felt your cheeks burn lightly with the strain that happiness took upon your mouth «… we have arrived! What… what would your staff say if their first sight of me, you bride, was to be defiled by your dirty hands?».

«My hands aren’t dirty» it shouldn’t surprise you, by now, that Satorou took offense also upon this comment «… and I’d say that’d be a rather… amusing and entertaining way to introduce yourself».

And just like that the scoundrel was beneath your skirts, barely kissing upon a thigh before you closed your legs swiftly and kicked lightly to his abdomen to ensure that he’d get the clear indication that such thing wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

Not at least till you were in the safety of your bedrooms.

Since the first night of marriage, and Satorou’s desire to be soft with you, you had found yourself enjoying greatly your wifely duties; you were addicted upon them as Satorou gently slithered between your legs and kissed up and down your legs till you flustered and told him to ‘rush through it’.

“Rush?” he had questioned, almost offended, as one of his hands slightly bent a knee to the side to further expose yourself to his glacial gaze “... why would I do such a stupid thing, when I have you right where I want you?”.

Although the act, itself, was painful in part, you had grown to feel quite… satisfied and pleasured as Satorou would always ensure your own … gratification, whether it came from his own, his hands or his mouth, a devilish thing that had you definitely in less than proper situations.

Still, you didn’t wish for that to be the first impression to his own staff and underlings.

In all truth, you felt nervous: you weren’t all too sure of Satorou’s own feelings although he had made sure to show you, not just by performing his ‘husbandly’ duties, but also laying next to you comfortably in bed, tangled hands and breathy soft words whispered right in your ears.

“You are a dream, my lady”.

“My sweet, sweet darling wife”.

“You make such pretty noises, my little darling”.

«Well, I don’t think that it’d be entertaining for anybody truly but you» you huffed, forgetting how cute Satorou found it as he dismissed your annoyance with a light smirk, albeit he did raise up to sit where he was supposed to you while he asked to the carriage driver for a moment «… hey! No! Don’t stall! Or they’ll think…».

«… that I wish to spend time with my newly-wed wife?» he made it sound so simple and innocent, although you worried about your new status as his countess.

It was a huge jump to move from a lady onto such a title and seeing the rumors that spread across town around your hasty marriage, you weren’t particularly eager to discover what it meant all too soon.

«Darling, my sweet sweet darling… what concerns you?».

And he kindly went so smooth the expression wrinkles that appeared right on your bows.

It was in such situations that you wondered whether your mother was right, about this being the time that Gojo fell for you.

And you did as well.

«It’s just… it feels, like… a big jump to become a … countess» you admitted, as your words felt so utterly stupid «… what … what if … I do worry about what others are going to say, especially as I…».

«Why do you care?».

In another situation, you’d have thought Gojo to be utterly arrogant with his assumption, buthis tone felt genuine as if he truly couldn’t fathom why she might care for others’ opinion.

As if such a thought didn’t occur to him, which might be in part truthful since he was never concerned with others’ opinions.

Otherwise they wouldn’t have been here to begin with.

«I…» and worst of all: you didn’t have an immediate reply for him.

In all truth, you couldn’t even fathom why you had been nervous to begin with, and when you finally came up with it, you couldn’t help but fluster upon realizing that you cared for others’ opinions because of how it might reflect on Satorou.

«… if you can’t find a reason after being questioned, I am sure that you shouldn’t take it with such a strong consideration» Satorou deliberated as if it wasn’t obvious, grabbing her hand while his other reached for the handle of the carriage and you were the one stalling, pulling on the hand in your own.

«Please…!» you pleaded unsure «… I just… well, I do worry of… my worst behavior befalling onto you… my… my…».

«If the next word befalling your mouth is ‘husband’, I will shove my head between my thighs again to teach you a lesson».

You flustered immediately at his bold declaration as you hid your head swiftly in your hands turning away from him.

«… and please… if anything, I don’t think that anything that you do might make me worse in their eyes. Most of them have been with me since I was a young child and my sole amusement was bothering and pranking them».

The thought of a mischievous child, a small blueyed one had you almost open your mouth in awe as you felt a slight glee at the soft confession made by your husband.

«I just… it’s just… not… I never thought I’d be here».

«Me neither» Satorou admitted gently, although the tense softness in his tone implied that he wasn’t annoyed with such a result «… but I have known you for a good chunk of your life and I do know you to be lively, gentle and smart».

«You knew me as a child» you couldn’t help but slightly protest «… and you didn’t particularly like me».

«A pity and a misjudgement on my part» Gojo joked lightly, although as soon as he noticed your dampened mood he went to add more seriously «… I might not have known you that well, but I could already see that you’d become somebody insanely too good. And then you grew up to be a wonderful woman and even though it’s true - we don’t know each other very well -, I do… believe that you’d make a wonderful lady of the household».

Why did this man that you had known - truly - for so little seemed to know you better than yourself?

He seemed to know how to make you cry, long for him and comfort you.

Was it maybe meant for you to be husband and wife?

«And if you ever falter, my dear…».

Oh you perfectly knew that tone as you readied yourself for any comment.

«… don’t worry, I’ll help you through it. I won’t punish you too harshly, fear not».

And with a mischievous look that got you wondering what he entailed for ‘punishing’ you, he went to open the door and you were promptly faced with the entirety of the Gojo’s household staff.

The maids were all prim and proper while the men had their heads lowered not meeting your eyes as Satorou brought you to the main entrance right as an elderly woman moved forward.

«It’s good for you to be back, master Gojo».

«No need for such honorifics, granny»-

It shouldn’t have surprised you that your husband could be disrespectful also to his own staff, although the woman didn’t register any annoyance nor offense while her eyes swiftly moved upon you.

You flustered and felt your cheeks heat up as you underwent ‘the examination’.

Thankfully the older woman didn’t find you lacking.

Nor extraordinary.

«… my lovely bride, the former young lady Haibara».

«Her ladyship» the woman bowed, although with the same reverence she reserved towards Gojo and you could only guess you had yet to earn it «… hope the journey wasn’t long. We heard of the storm and of your extra-stop».

«Why are you asking her such a thing?» Satorou complained lightly «… and I’ll have you know that the journey was dreadful and I couldn’t wait to be home. In my own bed. And not in the sopping, wet…».

«It was fine» you quieted Satorou’s monologue, and earned a slight smile from the older lady «… although as my lord husband said I am glad to be ho… to be here».

You caught yourself in the mistake as you were yet unsure whether you could call this place your own ‘home’.

Whether it'd be disrespectful.

Either way the head of the staff didn’t comment on your faux-pas, instead breathing heavily and gesturing for the staff to start collecting your luggage as she started to speak again.

«… I have already assigned a personal maid to you, my lady. Haina is a kind girl and she shall be at your utter service. I shall fetch her after I have given you a tour of the mansion and…».

«I shall take you onto such a task» Satorou butted in as he shouldered past the older woman, much to your displeasure since you were worried you might be believed as rude for disrupting her plan.

Instead as you turned to at least a soft ‘I am sorry’, you found a complacent smile on her face as she didn’t protest any further and Satorou brought you alongside himself.

For a tour you saw so little as you were, instead, brought into what seemed like a private alcove and as you were halfway through asking for an explanation, your husband’s lips were pressed tenderly against your own while his hands went to grab your waist.

«Satorou!» you tried to chastise him, earning little to no reaction, as Satorou kept pressing his lips to your own,almost childishly «… we are supposed to be proper! On a tour!».

«And I am giving you a tour!» Satorou protested, almost offended and for a moment you thought that you had just been in bad faith, as he meant to show you something and just kissed you in the heat of the moment «… of all the best places to sneak away when things around the manor get boring, this way you know where to come when you little, pretty head gets all overwhelmed, alright, my darling?».

If anybody else - such as your own brother - had ever spoken to you with such a patronizing tone, you’d have immediately shut them down.

Instead with Satorou - as if his own personality was rubbing off onto you - you couldn’t help but giggle in defeat as you went to press your own lips to his, while you felt his hand moving from your waist onto raising your dress.

In that moment, you could care less about what the staff thought of their new countess.

«… and then raising the taxes would ensure a better and more stable situation for the spring festival».

Satorou inevitably droned out the chatter of his advisors as they went onto the current situation of the estate, since they had requested this reunion to ensure that he’d be updated about the state of his affairs.

As if he wasn’t always updated, enough that he seemed to know everything going on.

Nothing went unnoticed in his domain, as if he had eyes behind his head.

Although right now he could care less of having everything under control as his gaze trailed after where you and Haina, your personal maid, were chatting about anything.

A blanket laid down on the gorgeous gardens of his estate as you enjoyed the slight heat of the incoming spring under the watchful gaze of Ina, his old nanny and current head of the staff.

You were wearing a pale pink dress that suited your skin tone.

You wore your hair down as you oftentimes did whenever you wouldn’t be leaving the estate grounds and you looked honestly thriving.

Never Satorou Gojo would have believed that marriage would have suited him, but right now with the way you were eagerly explaining some game on a board to Haina, he couldn’t help but believe that there might be an exception sometimes.

«My lord?» his attention still was requested on other matters, as one of his advisors called him out.

A grin on the man’s face as if he thought to have caught Gojo in a mistake and the white haired count retorted with one of his own.

«… did we.. did we distract you?».

On his deathbed, his father had told not to trust anybody.

Not a single advisor.

“They are just dirty little fucking parasites just waiting for the right moment to snatch up everything you built” he had told Satorou, while holding his hand, a gesture that had startled the younger boy he had been as his father hadn’t ever been that affectionate “... you can only trust family so be sure to choose attentively and…”.

“And I shall never have such a thing” Satorou had spat out as he had swiftly sent his father’s hand flying down “... I have no intention to pursue the continuation of your lineage. Our dynasty dies with me”.

«No, you didn’t» he counterattacked swiftly the advisor’s insinuation who looked at him like the cat who got the milk as he didn’t think that his count was being truthful «… what’s distracting me is the idea of you wishing to raise the taxes right by the spring festival! It’d make them all hate us even more… not to talk about the fact that it’s counterproductive to have our dearest subjects have nothing to show in a festival because we took everything away, don’t you think?».

The advisor was pale, as Satorou hadn’t only effectively fought him off but also won.

Spectacoriously so.

«… we shall, if anything, lower the taxes. On the behalf of the new countess» he commented as he knew such a move would have won many hearts and this would have gotten you definitely more at ease, as since first coming into your role your nervousness hadn’t left you, no matter his assurance and calm.

You worried about whether you were liked enough and proper by the standards, having oftentimes sought out the governess and Haina for any help in settlements and organization, especially as your arrival had been so close to the spring festival.

You had sent Gojo away from his bed one night as he kept on distracting you with languid and soft kisses.

“I have urgent business to attend” you had ushered him away as Satorou - the lovesick fool - let himself be dragged away.

“Isn’t your husband a matter to attend to?” he had teased you just to see the embarrassment heat you up wholly as you wore a slightly sheer pinkish nightgown that he had wished to rip from the moment that he had seen upon entering your chambers.

He had kept his parents’ traditions of a separate bedroom, if anything to let you have the time to settle and calm although he’d often visit you and sleep in the same bed.

“... what a prudish wife I have found for myself”.

“Satorou!” you had whined as a slight doubting gaze appeared upon your face “... I shall attend to you. Just… just later”.

Oh, how he loved your bashfulness!

He had slept with you just two times, the first on the night at the tavern with your soft mewls of innocence being ripped away as he tried to hold himself back; what he had felt for you in the garden couldn’t be compared to the intensity perceived in that moment when every gentle kiss you pressed to his cheeks reeking of gratitude had him as inflamed as an heated touch.

The second time had been in the house as you had been the one to seek him out gently as he was at his desk dealing with some of the unfinished business that he had left behind to join the ball season.

“... can we… can we do it again?” your shyness had been rewarded by Satorou through a gentle surrender of his own as he let you do as you pleased with his body, cackling at your eagerness mixed with nervousness “... do you think I shall be soon with child?”.

“Oh” the memory was immediately soured by Satorou’s denial for such a thing although he hadn’t worded it properly taken by the panic at the discovery that you might want children “... I can’t… you see I…”.

You had seemed shocked and Satorou had thought this the moment when you left him, when you saw him as the crook he was and regretted the marriage, but instead your eyes had saddened not soured.

“I am sorry” you had spoken gently as your hand had caressed his arm, while Satorou thought he should have been the one to tell you so.

“Why, my love?” he aimed to seek out the further reasoning behind your mercy, as he had gently caressed your cheeks already feeling a slight dampness.

“... children are blessings and I had always hoped to give to my children a sibling as I was to Yo” you had spoken gently and earnestly and Satorou had felt a pang of pain in his chest “... either way I don’t… I don’t mind, Satorou”.

“Do you?” he had sought out confirmation “... truly?”.

And you had nodded eagerly, cuddling yourself closer to him.

“I don’t mind it being just the two of us, you know?” you had even giggled so cutely that for a moment Satorou had felt in heaven “... and in the end if you can’t have children…there isn’t much to be done”.

And it had hit Satorou that you thought he couldn’t have - biologically - children, not because he refused to spend his seed into you as he was too stubborn to go back against a binding vow murmured with hatred towards his father to spite the Gojo dynasty.

You had fallen asleep in his arms while he had stayed awake, thinking that the incoming morning he had to tell you that you had misunderstood him and he was too selfish to give you what you wished for.

Still, he hadn’t been able to bring himself as you gently woke up in his arms, kissing the open palm of his hand and saying how happy you were with each other.

He had told himself, he’d tell you.

Eventually.

He didn’t enjoy the thought of lying and withholding the truth, but with time passing he couldn’t help but feel like his eventual punishment would have become tenfold.

Oh avoidance.

«If the matter is closed…».

Such dark thoughts had him aching for you, as he saw that you and Haina had raised up from your spot, probably going inside for your afternoon bath since the following day you were to leave the Gojo residence to visit your family.

He wasn’t eager to know the sensation of Haibara’s eyes stabbing him but he also could tell just how traumatic being uprooted into your new place could be and he wished for you to be close to your family, since you had one that loved you so much.

«… actually there are more… ahem… matters that require your atten…» the advisor who had tried to have him make a faux-pas spoke again, and this time Gojo didn’t withhold the subtle hatred in his gaze.

«If the matter is as stupid as the one you brought forward, I think that such things can wait for my return».

For now he was far more interested in discovering whether he’d be in time to catch you before you slipped in your bath or he’d join you directly.

«… you should visit us before the good season ends, Haibara» you muttered softly as both your brother and husband startled and after a meaningful look they both resulted into a merciful submission.

You’d have laughed, hadn’t it been that you had sworn to yourself that you’d behave in front of your family as you had a devious plan for Lady Murasaki.

Gojo had informed you that he’d be leaving you for a few hours as he had a few matters to attend to in the city and you had told him that such a thing didn’t bother you.

“I’ll visit some friends I have left behind” you had insisted as he was worried that you’d feel alone “... and if I do feel all too lonely, my brother will be more than happy to keep me company”.

In all truth, you wouldn’t have gone to any friends, but you’d have met the typist to have the latest pamphlet out, a clear answer to those who had doubted your marriage to count Gojo.

You couldn’t help but pinprick of slight guilt at not only going behind Gojo’s back but also because you had yet to reveal to him your identity of Lady Murasaki but how could you though?

Throughout your career as a pamphleteer you had insulted and made fun of him and the thought of ruining your steady pace in the marriage right when it felt so blooming was heartbreaking and nerve wracking.

No, this was a secret you’d have taken to the grave.

Or so you had hoped as you rushed through the busy street of the industrial part of town, clad in a thick woolen coat to conceal your identity, to meet right in time the printer.

So taken by your worry to be on time you hadn’t noticed when a burly black haired lord had bumped right into you, lightly cursing underneath your breath while the gentleman you had clashed into giggled, clearly having heard what you had said but most importantly revealing to be none other than your husband’s partner-in-crime, Suguru Geto.

You startled, especially as a look of surprise settled on the man’s face as he recognized you.

No, no this couldn’t be happening.

You didn’t have a proper excuse for why you were on this side of the town as it’d have contrasted with your promise to meet with friends that you had told Gojo.

What if Geto told him that he had met you?

How could you justify yourself?

«Lady Hai… I mean countess» he curtsied to you gentlemanly, further having you in a flurry of panic as you tried to come up with a proper excuse for your presence there.

Saying that you had lost yourself would have been far too unbelievable and you had no reason or purpose to be there, unlike him who had just exited what seemed like a bawdy tavern.

«What a delightful surprise!».

«Truly» you suppressed your unease through gritted teeth «… I am in a ru…».

«I had meant to ask Satorou how you were settling» and yet the black-haired man completely ignored your necessity pushing you in place by kindly helping you up as he kept the distance at an arm’s length «… after all that mess with your brother and the duel… I had worried that you might be… well, that the marriage might be doomed from the start. Especially as Satorou seemed so nervous, I had to give him a few words of encouragement to have him still his overthinking…».

«I am indebted to you for that» you muttered attentive to keep the obvious annoyance you felt to yourself as the memory of your marriage ceremony wasn’t the brightest in your mind with you and Satorou being at each other’s back, turned and worried «… now if you could just let me throu…».

«Why in such a rush?» oh that shit-eating grin, you’d have loved to write a peculiar column onto it on your pamphlets.

Wait, you actually had and that had you slightly smirking.

«… I didn’t know that you had any business in such a place».

Oh, how easily he had caught you, still you tried for the unease not to be shown on your face, as not to further compromise your situation.

As you were halfway through giving a meek answer, you noticed that lord Geto’s attention was caught by something on the ground and as you shifted your gaze on the dirtied floor you realized that your book had fallen and all the original pamphlet drafts were now in part scattered to the ground, much to your horror.

That just worsened when you saw the lord gentlemanly dipping down to collect the papers before you could stop him.

«Oh you must be mailing letters, aren’t …» and then you knew for sure that you had been caught «… what… what… why are these papers signed by none other than Lady Murasaki?».

You knew that there must be some kind of lie that would have gotten you out of this situation but you were in much too shock to properly react as Geto gently but sternly grabbed your arm and brought you in the first secluded pastry nearby, before he started to hiss angrily.

«You… you are lady Murasaki?».

Well, you couldn’t blame his anger, as you had oftentimes made fun of his pompous behavior at balls, although it startled what he said next.

«… does… does Satorou know about it?».

Your silence was an answer enough and Geto lightly grimaced before he started again:

«Do you… how can you keep such a secret from him?».

The way he sounded almost paternalistically had you finally snap out of your trance as you regarded him with a tight glare.

«That’s neither your own or his business!».

«Oh but it is» Ghetto seethed lowly «… do you… do you have any idea whatLlady Murasaki had done to him or me?».

You startled at the obvious accusation before again regaining your tight defense.

«None that can be brushed off easily within a few seasons» you said haughtily «… what about the ladies that you and Satorou made fun of? Or fooled for nothing but the pleasure of your own egos!».

«I’d be careful of how you speak about such matters, especially as one of those men is your husband» Geto said cuttingly and albeit you were trying not to raise anything you couldn’t help but feel a slight guilt at the reminder that you had oftentimes belittled Satorou in your tireades.

Still, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

Satorou had an ego for days and in truth, everybody would have forgiven him for the most heinous of shit, simply because he was… Satorou Gojo.

You, yourself, found it extremely difficult to be mad at him for the way he had behaved when you were both younger and yet, here you were betraying him by posting again as lady Murasaki.

«… and you have no idea how much of the damage you have done by creating this little persona».

Oh that was enough: your ethics might be flawed but you wouldn’t have let yourself be so harshly spoken to by a scoundrel such as Suguru Geto:

«You have no idea of how little freedom we women have. And how much you men behave as our own masters. So, let me have this little freedom: to warn women of the ridiculous dangers of high society before it’s too late».

Geto seemed definitely taken aback by your spiel, although he was quick to continue your verbal sparring:

«You have little to no idea of what you have caused,Llady Murasaki» being called by your pen name had you definitely scrunching your eyebrows «… you have truly no right to write… such… heinous things!».

«And yet… are they untrue?» you held Geto’s gaze knowing that he couldn’t deny the truth, although he still huffed and finally declared.

«You have to tell Satorou».

«Not at all» Lady Murasaki was your own creation, and if you didn’t wish Satorou to know, you wouldn’t have told him.

«You do» Geto insisted as he sent a slight look your way, although not one of haughtiness or reprimand but genuine concern «… if he discovers it any other way… it’d be… it’d be bad».

«Satorou… Satorou isn’t like that».

You don’t think that your husband would have hurt you in anyway an husband might but somehow you knew that Geto’s words would be true: if Satorou discovered about this, he’d definitely… be hurt and such a thought had you… terribly guilty.

«… what… it’ll hurt to know, now».

«And it won’t lessen the pain with time, if you don’t tell him» Geto promptly insisted «… I’ll give you a month then you have to tell him, understood?»

You couldn’t help but be utterly offended at Geto’s audacity to tell you what to do, as he wasn’t your father nor your husband and although he was looking out for a friend, he had also put his nose in business that didn’t concern him.

Still, it also hit you the finality with which Geto spoke: he wasn’t bluffing, he’d have told Gojo.

The thought terrified you, although deep down you felt a sort of contentment at finally having a way to liberate yourself from the heavy weight of your second identity, especially before it became all too troublesome.

«I… I’ll tell him» you promised your voice slightly wavering «… but after the spring festival».

«I’ll agree to that» Geto muttered much more calmly «… but first I… can I ask you what got you to start writing such things? I… I have known you and your brother for a bit and I didn’t…».

«… didn’t think I was capable of writing such things?» you shot back slightly smiling sadly «… well I… in all truth, I think that I did it because you didn’t think myself capable of doing such things. I… you always thought me to be some naive little child and it was also… my way of regaining power over a life on which I didn’t have control».

«But… but you are a countess now!» Geto harshly protested, although there was a bit of disbelief as if he couldn’t believe that she had felt this way and instead of angering you, you felt a bit pacified by his comment.

«Don’t… don’t… mistake my words… I am happy with… Satorou… but… but I never had a choice in what I wanted. Nor my life, nor my debut and especially not my marriage. I am lucky that it worked out, but for all those ladies who are too naive for the world and stuck in horrible matches?» you couldn’t help but smile a bit awkwardly as you felt silly at revealing such things «… well, I wished to simply warn them».

The silence that fell between you and Geto wasn’t uncomfortable, if anything there was a slight exchange of thoughts that couldn’t be said out loud.

«And if anything… my last pamphlet was about how happy the newest countess had been with her love match. Is it the time that Gojo Satorou settles?» you joked feigning a wondrous surprise as Geto laughed lowly.

«Ever think that you’ll put a good word for me?» he asked gently albeit a bit humorously.

«Oh don’t even think about it!».

Satorou had always been peculiarly nosy with the things of others, and his governess had always insisted that such a thing would have him in trouble.

He couldn’t certainly expect that such a thing would happen in the worst time possible.

The spring festival had been a success, much to your obvious comfort as you smiled happily accepting the townspeople flowers and compliments while Satorou stood by your side gently, letting you for once shine as he hadn’t ever realized till this moment just how little you tended to make yourself feel for others.

He wouldn’t have accepted such a thing from now, he had thought upon realizing such a fact.

You were flustered and sweet as you came back home in the carriage, your hands threaded together as you recounted every little detail possible, as if he hadn’t been right there by your side. It made him happy that you were as well and somehow glad for this marriage of convenience, as for the first time he felt like it might work.

That it might still give him a family although on his happiness a slight concern appeared as he worried not only for the lie he had given to you but also that - as always - his apparent happiness might be destroyed by a shadow of the past.

He dreaded that he had yet to tell you the truth about why he couldn’t have children and although he had grown to enjoy your time spent together, he hadn’t yet been able to be vulnerable to you, shooting down any inquiry of your own towards his family.

You didn’t seem to take it to heart but for how long would this go before you took offense and realized that your husband was far too closed off and impenetrable?

As for you, you seemed quite the open book, hence he was startled upon stumbling on your desk in something that wasn’t decidedly your usual correspondence.

He hadn’t meant, in all truth, to snoop around, instead searching for a document that he had left in your room the previous night as he had spent - as always, the night with you - any semblance of duty being forgotten upon the sight of your rosy cheeks at the glass of wine that you had taken at dinner as you boldly commanded him around having fallen into your role as a countess.

He had startled when after the act, you had gently brought him close to you and shyly told him that you’d never hurt him.

“Not on purpose, you must know” and you had been close to saying anything that had Gojo wandering but you hadn’t added anything, snuggling in his naked chest instead.

As he looked around for the document, he had noticed it being laid upon your desk, probably from the place where he had stuck it, as you were far more orderly than him but his eyes were taken aback when he read your elegant calligraphy.

“It is without a doubt that the match between the count and countess has proved to be quite the talk of the season. Especially bad mouth if I may say. Are people of the ton so jealous that they haven’t been ensnared by a pair of pretty eyes and a smart mouth?

Enough poison towards sweet and naive lady Haibara, she must know no less…”.

He had known that tone perfectly, as it had been the one of the lady that had tormented him thoroughly: Lady Murasaki, the court gossiper and his harshest enemy, who turned out to be none other than his own wife.

He startled at the realization, releasing at once the paper and although he knew that it was a terrible idea he snooped around his wife’s room till he found a box that revealed a small treasure: the original drafts of the pamphlet further pointing out one single solution: that his wife was none other than lady Murasaki.

“Is this the season that count Gojo delights us by putting himself off the market? The ton could use a bit of less gaudiness in its seasons!”.

“Whenever lord Geto and count Gojo are together, the recipe for disaster has already started”.

“It is certainly without a doubt that if you can train a horse to stand on its lower legs, you can also train count Gojo to become a proper husband”.

Your satyre wasn’t as stinging as some of the comments that Gojo had ever received form his own parents or preceptors and had it been anybody but you, he’d have laughed at the ridiculous way in which you had described.

Still, it was you… his own wife who had written such staggering comments and it had him definitely feeling a bit crushed…

… betrayed.

Why… why had you written such things?

And why had you agreed to marry him?

Certainly to save your brother, but you had also agreed upon his help, which had thrown the two of you in this mess.

His head was spinning and it didn’t happen often for Satorou Gojo to feel this way.

He wished to confront you, to speak directly with you but at the same time, the thought that you had… you thought of him this way had him further retreating into himself.

After all, hadn’t his father said that he shouldn’t have trusted anybody?

He should have known that applied to family as well, as his own dreams of domesticity were promptly disrupted.

Maybe respecting his vow would be easier than he thought.

You couldn’t help but lightly grimace as Haina adjusted the dress upon you since the slight happiness of your marriage had you a bit chubbier on your stomach.

Not that you minded as the recent worries definitely had you starving, since Gojo had become quite distant to you in the latest period, blaming it onto incoming matters, which you understood.

He was count and you were countess, but the way he didn’t let you in anymore as he had at the start of your marriage was almost… painful.

And it didn’t help you with the thought of telling him about the fact that you were lady Murasaki.

The spring festival had passed and although Geto had accepted to give you a further day you didn’t know how to breach the topic when your husband seemed so distant.

Had he… had he grown bored with you, already?

«My lady, not that… but did you put on some weight?» albeit enjoying Haina’s gentle and quiet nature, she could be quite nosy and a tad brash «… I merely ask because… well, it’s been a few months since your… your marriage and it wouldn’t be… it wouldn’t be unsightly for you to be with child».

Immediately your frown deepened and Haina noticed that she had spoken wrongly.

«Not that… not that you are ugly or… anything, her ladyship! You are as pretty as the day he brought you home and if anything men just simply enjoy a bit more to hold…».

«We can’t have children» you spat out although you weren’t sure whether Gojo would have allowed you to tell anybody else «… I… the lord can’t give me children. That’s why I frowned not at your words, Haina. Although thank you for comforting me».

Haina seemed taken aback and for a moment you worried whether she’d have tried to awkwardly comfort you again, before a slight fluster filled her face.

«… who… who told you such a thing, my lady?».

You startled at her slight noisiness and the way she seemed to doubt your words.

«The count, of course».

«Well, then I… mean… it is a surprise I…».

The two of you were startled when a door slammed open revealing Mrs. Kinawa, the governess who had greeted you upon your arrival with Gojo, and who oftentimes came to you as a mother duck with a wandering duckling afraid of dipping its toes in the water.

«What’s this nonsense I am hearing?» although you enjoyed her presence, you felt like oftentimes this woman would be brusque - and no differently from Haina quite nosy.

You regarded her with a slight embarrassment as she went on while Haina was quick to try to finish your dressing if anything to avoid the burden of a conversation that was changing.

«… the count doesn’t have a problem in that department. I have been with him since he was a child and I’d have known if any terrible sickness had struck him down. Gods, if anything I’d have cheered».

«But…!» you went to protest lightly, not believing that Gojo would lie to you about such a matter; and why would he «… that’s what he told me! And I… I don’t mean to well, I don’t mean to bother you Mrs. Kinawa or undermine you but…».

«Has he inserted himself inside of you girl?» you startled at the crass and bold words of the older woman, regarding her with a slight fear while Haina pretended not to have heard you as she dashed with the dirtied towels out of the room although you wouldn’t have been surprised if you caught her snooping around the door «… do tell me, this way we can assure ourselves that that scoundrel at least does his marital duties».

«He … has» you felt a slight fluster in admitting, especially as Gojo was your first man. And the sole one, probably «… it has… happened a few times… but I… maybe it isn’t… it isn’t that he can’t… rise to the occasion».

«As long as his seed is spent on you, darling girl, it’ll do just fine» again those startling words although this time it was for a very different reason: Gojo… he… he didn’t spill himself into you.

He’d be crying about how close he was and immediately push himself away from you.

You hadn’t thought anything of the pearly white liquid that oftentimes stained his hands and the sheets, thinking that maybe he thought it far impure for his wife as you had always been told - in the rudimental anatomy lessons you had been given- that you’d be with child the moment that he … inserted himself into you.

«… girl, don’t tell me that you don’t know how the act is done. You have been married for a few good months!».

«I… I… back at home I… I wasn’t taught about it, I just… well, I do know the… bases but… something… does he… does he need to spend himself into… me for me to bear a child?» because if that was what was needed it now was obvious why you weren’t with child, yet.

And that Gojo had lied to you.

You felt your head heavy with all these thoughts as you tried to be rational, thinking that maybe he hadn’t meant to or there must be a further medical explanation that neither you nor Mrs. Kinawa could reach and the best way was to confront him, which you did once the dressing was finished and the governess informed you further about the nature of sex, as you felt extremely awkward and stupid. for having believed Gojo.

If he had lied to you, you couldn’t help but feel… further betrayed. He had known… your lack of expertise and taken advantage of it.

Still, for what reason?

Had he told you that he didn’t wish for children - which you didn’t believe at all - you’d have maybe hidden your desire for them.

Still, it should have been your choice together, not his own solely.

By the time you exited your rooms you were startled with the rage you felt, which hadn’t inhabited your body for a long time since being married to Satorou, startling him as you opened the door to his studio, uncaring that he didn’t wish to be disturbed.

«What’s the matter?» he asked, concern lacing his beautiful eyes and for a moment you held hesitation for your words: you had your own secrets and he had his, it was only right that you felt like a hypocrite for your indignation, although such a situation couldn’t go on.

If he told you about why he didn’t wish for children with you, you’d have told him about lady Murasaki.

«I have heard… an interesting conversation about… well, about the fact that you have lied to me about your inability to…» you flustered although the rage in your body shook you lightly with emboldened confidence «… conceive».

He seemed startled like a child caught in the act and it all crumbled onto you: for the entire road to his studio, you had thought that this had to be a mistake in having understood him on your part.

That he hadn’t lied to you and that maybe things could be fixed but faced with his obvious lie, you felt your breath stall and your heart stammer.

«You… you lied to me».

«Close the door» he was quick to say, instead of coming close to you and consoling you although you immediately noticed that his hand had gripped onto the desk tightly and his body seemed shaken by a tension as well.

Still, he held nothing of his usual tenderness.

Was it possible that his entire change of demeanor had been because of worrying he’d be caught in his lie?

You complied with his order although the moment that the door was closed you ushered closer to him with an angered tone:

«Why… why did you lie to me?!» you asked as he kept on being dejected, although in his eyes there was something akin to an utter sadness.

«I don’t think that you should be asking honesty out of me when you were the first one that lied» he promptly shot back and before you had the time to process, he went onto adding «… Lady Murasaki».

For the second time in a day you felt the earth beneath your feet unsteady as you immediately thought who might have told him; you doubted that Geto would have lied to you, although Gojo was his best friend. He was an honorable lord and it’d have just hurt Gojo further to discover the news from him and not you. As he was right now.

This also explained his mood of the past few weeks as everything settled in place.

«I’d… I’d have told you» it did little to ease the guilt in her chest, as he regarded her like a liar «… would you?».

«Would you have really told me that you are the woman behind the pen that made fun of me and my friend?» he went on, shooting back poisonously as you felt like you couldn’t blame him fully for the obvious distaste he had for your alter ego, although you were stalled from what he said next «… was this… a way for you to get better intel around me and make me a further fool than I already am?».

You startled at his booming tone and especially accusation although you were quick to shoot back.

«Do you think I had a choice in it?» you counterattacked, as your fists came to your side while Gojo still stayed behind the desk, a physical and emotional barrier «… I… I… I was forced into this, as much as you!».

«And you thought to make a horrible situation into a better one, didn’t you».

You couldn’t… truly blame Gojo for his mistrust, especially after the talk with Geto and the knowledge that Satorou wasn’t as… awful as you had pictured him.

He had started to open up with you about himself and you had thought that love might blossom. Instead, here you were screaming at each other because of the lies you held.

«… and about the children, I… that’s why I didn’t want to marry you! I swore on my father’s deathbed that his wretched legacy of lies, loveless relationships and abuse would end with me. I’d never take a wife nor bear a child and I intend to do so, because as I have noticed such things only bring an unhappy life».

Although you had no right to feel hurt at Satorou’s words, you still felt it.

You had lied to him and at least withheld the truth and he had done so as well, although his own crime came with the heavy weight of a loveless family and hadn’t you been feeling so angry, hurt and sad, you’d have happily clutched into your arms, comforting him for the child he could have never been.

«Yet, I can’t go back on my vow, at least to you. So, I shall not share your bed from now on».

You were startled at Satorou’s decision that nothing could ever change.

No chance of resolving this among you anymore.

«No…» you were simply able to whine as you tried to get past the desk to throw your arms at him and plead «… Satorou, I… I am sorry for not having told you…».

«Are you sorry for your words, though?».

You were fixed with a gaze of ice promptly and it had you shivering out of the coldness of it.

You worried that it might freeze you on the spot.

«… because I don’t think that I… I don’t think that I can ever see you as more than her. You.. you might be my wife in name but you… we are nothing to each other».

And you were too struck to speak again as you slightly crouched down while Satorou passed by you as if he hadn’t noticed your obvious distress.

As if he couldn’t care less, which you thought must be the truth.

You had lost your husband, in the span of a few moments and although you hadn’t wanted him in the first place, you wept as if you had lost everything.

credits for dividers: @/saradika-graphics

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