#and now when I’m alone/left alone I panic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milswrites · 1 day

Text

At the end of the night

~ Azriel X Fem Illyrian!Reader

Based on this request

Summary: They say you never forget your first love. So how could Azriel move on when you were never far from his mind?

Warnings: Gross men, intoxication, injury, blood, talks of wing clipping, talks of Azriel’s past, smut 18+ mdni (p in v), angst, fluff, the whole shebang.

Word count: 8.7k

'Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much that he dies every night to let her breathe, and in return, she reflects his love.'

The hour was late.

Far too late for a young woman such as yourself to be walking through the shadowed streets of Windhaven unaccompanied. The waning moon lost amongst the clouds as you moved under the cover of darkness.

You had no true destination in mind. Rather, your aimless wandering was done on account of you trying to pass the hours until you were able to return home once more. The lurking dangers of Windhaven appeared much more appealing than whatever bacchic activities were currently taking place at your home.

Night becoming your only friend as you spent all your time within its company.

It was now common practice, keeping yourself occupied whilst your father drank himself to oblivion alongside his barbarous friends. Your home no longer habitable, as with each day that passed it began to resemble a dreary tavern more and more.

Yet the streets themselves were just as an unpleasant place to be.

Even in the darkest hours of the night, the camp was still teeming with life. From lousy drunkards to irreputable whores, it seemed as though everybody was searching for some relief tonight. All seeking an escape from what was the hellish day-to-day of Windhaven.

It was therefore no surprise that your presence didn’t go unnoticed as you worked your way through the miserable throng. The sight of a young woman such as yourself, alone and unaccompanied during the midnight hours, was enough to capture the unwanted attention of a nearby group of intoxicated Illyrians.

They moved quickly.

One moment laughing amongst themselves as they stumbled along the uneven paving, and the next, they had you surrounded. Eyes ravenous and smiles sinister, they approached like a predator closing in on its prey.

The male closest to you hungrily trailed his tongue across his lips, taking a sweeping glance of your tense form before speaking, “Not lost are you sweetheart?”

The putrid scent of his foul breath was enough to make your wings curl in distaste, nose twitching with disgust as you replied curtly, “No, I’m just looking for my friend that’s all.”

You attempted to sidestep the male in order to continue on you way. Having provided them the false knowledge that someone was waiting for you, you hoped that would be enough to keep the group of inebriated males at bay.

Yet luck was not on your side tonight.

The firm grip of a calloused hand shooting out to meet your arm as the male who first spoke held you in place. “A friend?” he scoffed, knowing smile growing across his face as he made a show of checking his surroundings, lips pouting with faux disappointment as his eyes turned back to you, “I don’t see any friends.”

“Hence the looking” you spat, tearing your arm from his tight grasp as your wild eyes fluttered about in search of an exit route between the ever-nearing group of males.

Dauntingly, the largest of the warriors took a slow step towards you, wicked features half-lost to the shadows as he approached.

“You don’t need to lie sweetheart” he simpered, attempting to bring his hand to rest on your shoulder as you stumbled away from his touch. Flaring your wings in an attempt to appear more intimidating. But your action meant nothing to the male who continued to advance, “We’ll keep you company darling. What kind of gentlemen would we be if we left a pretty girl like you all alone in a place like this?”

Words lost to the rising panic growing in your chest, your gaze continued to fly around in desperation. Begging stare lost upon the disinterested faces of the passer-byers who wanted no part in the troublesome scene brewing.

In one final act of hope, you raised your fists. Ready to make a stand as you ignored the shaking of your wings and trembling of your knees. Yet your courage was wasted, sadistic laughs spilling from their lips as the males continued to move in closer, unphased by your valiant act of bravery.

But then darkness approached.

Lanterns extinguishing as the shadows crawled in.

With the light gone, the menacing grins plastered on your tormentors faces dropped, bodies tense as the dark silhouette of foreboding wings slowly crept towards them. Braced to flee as the stranger began to speak with a deadly air of calm.

“She’s not alone, she’s with me.”

~~~

You’d never had a friend before.

Windhaven had always been a place of strained alliances and disgruntled kinship. It was the last location you’d expect to see anything beautiful bloom amongst the weeds.

And yet, ever since that fateful day when the shadowsinger had swooped in to rescue you before delivering you safely home, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that perhaps the two of you were meant to be more than amicable acquaintances.

Azriel must have shared that feeling. The male having come to find you the next day, and the day after that. Which is why it was no surprise that it didn’t take long for the two of you to become inseparable.

Those somber nights spent walking around the camp with only yourself for company were now far behind you. Rather, the young male sought you out at the end of each workday, whisking you away from your home before your father had even the chance to pick up a bottle.

It was during these nights, where the two of you would sit and talk for hours. Your conversation acting as an escape from the cruel reality of your lives. Each story told and laugh shared working to make the pair of you forget exactly what was waiting for you back at the camp.

Sometimes, the two of you didn’t even talk at all. Simply being within each other’s presence was soon enough for the two of you to be content. You never thought about your troubled father or uncertain future when you were with Azriel, you didn’t need to.

Not when being with him made you forget.

Therefore, it was no wonder that between your riveting conversations and lingering touches, you found yourself pondering exactly what your relationship with Azriel was.

That perhaps the feeling which had sparked inside of you upon your first meeting wasn’t just the need for friendship, but the desire for something greater.

And so for the first time in your life, you allowed yourself to dream.

~~~

Cassian’s frenzied appearance at your door was the last thing you had expected to see in the early hours of the morning. His chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath long enough to be able to get the words out.

“It’s. Az.”

He needn’t say another word, your feet already working to carry you away from your home as Cassian’s exhausted voice called out from behind, “The training rings, he’s at the training rings!”

You ran, feet aching and heart pounding, until you finally reached your destination. Feet dragging to a halt as your wide eyes witnessed the spine-chilling scene before you.

A bloodied Azriel, eye swollen and jaw bruised, was being torn from an equally mutilated male. Eyes savage and tongue bitter as he continued to shout unintelligible nonsense at the grounded Illyrian. Rhysand’s face turning red with the effort it was taking to restrain his hysterical friend.

“Az?” you uttered lowly, mouth parting in disbelief as you took in his manic state. Heart plunging as your eyes dropped to the weeping cuts on his blood-stained fists.

Ears pricking at your voice, Azriel’s head snapped towards you, body slacking in Rhysand’s hold as he noticed your arrival. Dark brows knitting together in shame as he shrank under your disappointed stare.

Mustering the strength to pull himself from Rhysand’s crushing grip, Azriel broke away from his friend. Casting one last lethal look towards the crumpled warrior at his feet before stalking away. Walking straight past you without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Males” you huffed with a shake of your head, struggling to tear your gaze from the macabre scene before you in order to chase after your friend.

It didn’t take you long to find him.

Azriel having predictably fled to the spot where you spent most of your time together. Retreating to the small clearing tucked deep within the forest surrounding Windhaven. No doubt needing a space far from prying eyes to clear his tempestuous thoughts.

You made to clear your throat as you approached, cautious not to startle an adrenaline-spiked Illyrian. Yet Azriel beat you to it.

“I’m not going to apologize” his gravelly voice cut through the silence of your surroundings, hazel eyes failing to meet your own as you closed the distance between you, “that bastard got what was coming to him.”

Lowering yourself to the leaf-littered ground in order to sit by his side, you took a deep breath before moving to rest your head against his tense shoulder. A soft sigh escaping from your lips before you spoke, “Are you alright? . . . Your hands -”

“Have seen worse” Azriel replied, lips twitching with the bare-bones of a smile in response to your concern, “I’m fine, truly.”

Yet his harrowed eyes told you otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze cold and absent as he stared at the forest floor.

“Why?” you simply asked, face a picture of confusion as you tried to make sense of what could have been said to elicit such a reaction from the shadowsinger.

“You wouldn’t understand” he said dismissively, shrugging as he started to pick at the laces of his boots in avoidance.

“Try me” you answered, hand moving to stop his anxious action, pulling his own into your lap to assess the damage that had been done. Hoping that if your eyes were occupied elsewhere, the male might find it easier to speak.

An hour may have passed, or perhaps only minutes, yet when Azriel finally spoke his voice commanded your attention, “He said I was unworthy of being an Illyrian.”

“That’s it?” you question, brows drawing together as you failed to understand how Azriel would let some simple little remark get under his skin in the way it had, “That’s all he said?”

Azriel released a shaky sigh, knuckles turning white underneath the caked blood as he elaborated. “I didn’t -” Azriel paused to allow a harsh exhale, “I didn’t grow up Illyrian.”

You were unable to stop the way in which your eyes left Azriel’s hand in order to flicker to his face in surprise. He had never spoken about his past before. You had always surmised that it wasn’t pretty, his scars had told you that much. But for the sake of his privacy you had never pressed him further.

Yet here he was, offering you a piece of his dark and twisted past.

“I spent most of my childhood in a cage. I couldn’t train, or fly. I didn't even have the luxury of space to spread my wings. And then . . .”

Your grip on Azriel's hand tightens as he struggled to find the words, your consoling touch giving him the strength he needed to continue, “And then my brothers thought it would be funny to test the true extent of an Illyrian’s healing gifts.”

The frigid nature of his fingers in your palm told you all you needed to know about that. Heart sinking and nausea growing as your gaze fell to the scarred contours of his hands, sickened that anyone would do that to a child – to their family.

“Then I was dumped here. Wings weak and hands frail," Azriel's frown of anger morphing into one of shame as he spoke, "and I felt . . . Useless. Eleven years old and I already knew that I was a lesser Illyrian than everybody else. All because I was never even given a chance at life.”

You wanted to speak, to comfort the male and tell him that he wasn’t the same little boy who had found himself stranded in Windhaven all those years ago, yet Azriel’s sharp inhale told you he wasn’t quite done.

“I could barely even hold a sword at training. It took years for my tendons to grow used to the strain. Even now I still have days where I struggle to even move them. . . But I worked too damn hard for anyone to tell me that I am any less of an Illyrian than they are.”

Azriel’s eyes were now swimming with tears, the male sniffling slightly as he finished what he had to say, “And when he told me that today . . . I was back to being that scared eleven-year-old boy with no friends. And I just felt worthless.”

"Never be ashamed of the things that make us” you reason, thumb moving to lightly caress the back of his scarred hand, "That's what determines a person's worth. Not their skill or ability. . . It's how hard a person fights to survive that tells you the most about them."

The shame washes from Azriel’s face, colour returning to his cheeks at your words. Soon your eyes were watering alongside his own as you gently brought your hand to meet the curve of his cheek, a soft smile gracing your lips as you spoke, “You’re not alone Az. Not anymore. You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I won’t allow you to think you’re any less than that.”

Azriel stills, the tension in his shoulders easing as his grateful eyes moved to meet your own, "How is it. . . that you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?"

You blush at the intensity of his thankful stare, ears burning red as you attempted to casually shrug away the male’s question, "Call it intuition."

Seeking to shift the male's attention from yourself, you hopped to your feet. Dusting yourself off as you offered out your hand for Azriel to take, "Come on trouble, let's go get you fixed up. I don't really think red is your colour."

And as the two of you walked back to camp, Azriel’s face now sore and aching as the adrenaline ebbed away, he wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you that it wasn't being an Illyrian he was called unworthy of, but your love.

~~~

Spring had finally arrived at Windhaven.

The harsh conditions of winter had subsided, and the once icy camp had now thawed enough to reveal the frozen ground beneath. The shoots of new life, which had managed to outlast the chill of the dark months, now sprang forth in order to grow.

And for the Illyrian recruits, the changing of the seasons could only mean one thing.

The Blood Rite would soon commence.

All of Azriel's time had been given over to preparing for the upcoming ceremony. Hour after hour being spent in the training ring, perfecting his form, and building his strength. Whatever fleeting time you were able to have together was spent planning strategies and developing his survival skills.

You didn't mind, any time spent with Azriel was time well spent. You could even say that it was nice, witnessing the male in his element. The determination which coursed through his eyes whenever he spoke of the Blood Rite was enough to bring a proud smile to your lips.

Yet as the start of the ceremony loomed ever closer, you found yourself worrying more and more about Azriel’s well-being.

It’s not that you didn’t trust Azriel’s skill, but rather the fact that you didn’t trust the other males who would no doubt take great pleasure in besting the notorious shadowsinger.

Their leering sneers told you enough; Azriel was going to have to watch his back if he was planning on making it to Ramiel in one piece.

You did the best you could to help him, acquiring special ointments to massage into his aching hands with the hope of soothing his muscles for when the time came that he'd need to use his sword. You'd even taken to slipping various forms of mild poison into the food of the other males, praying that the toxins would keep their strength at bay long enough for Azriel to succeed.

But no amount of preparation worked to ease your anxiety as the day finally arrived. Your brow creased with worry as you stood in the square where the novice-warriors were beginning to gather, patiently waiting for Azriel to arrive in order to bid him farewell.

His confident smile, one of which he had no doubt worn for you, did nothing to sate your rising panic as he approached. Not even the soothing warmth of his comforting embrace brought you any joy. Rather, the action managed to bring tears to your eyes as you looked up to your friend in hapless despair, "Aren't I the one who's supposed to be doing the comforting?"

"You being here is enough for that" Azriel said lowly, hazel eyes squeezed tightly closed as he did his best to commit the feel of your body in his arms to memory. Not letting you part from his crushing hold until the camp leader had shouted the call for them to make their leave.

"Be safe" you choked through your tears as Azriel pulled away. His faux smile long forgotten as his expression turned into one of worry. Whether it was worry for your well-being or his own safety in the coming week, you did not know.

Azriel placed a parting kiss onto your forehead, hand lightly brushing against yours before he reluctantly began to walk away. "Always" he answered, hazel eyes never straying from you as he made his exit.

"Goodbye!" you called out after him, attempting to stretch an encouraging smile across your lips for his sake, your hand waving wildly as Azriel lifted his own to do the same. But then all of a sudden he stopped, body stiffening as though he had been struck by lightning.

Face drawn blank as he stared back at you.

"Az, what? -"

It took five steps for him to close the distance between you. Five swift steps for you to take in his dark, feral eyes. Five steps to wonder exactly what he was doing before his lips fell onto yours.

You had imagined this, the feel of his lips against yours, his tender hands wrapped around your curves as Azriel pulled you in closer.

But no dream could ever compare to the real thing.

To the feel of Azriel's soft lips molding against your own like they were made for each other. The heated desperation of the kiss working to steal your breath and weaken your knees. Each passionate swipe of his tongue and the salacious tug of your lip between his teeth, working to tell you everything that had until this moment remained unspoken.

And yet it was over all too soon.

Azriel pulling away upon the final call from his superiors, a heated breath of relief escaping from his swollen lips as he pulled away from you for the last time.

Finally turning to face his future, Azriel uttered, "No goodbyes."

This time when Azriel walked away, you allowed yourself to truly smile, eyes full of love as you enthusiastically waved goodbye until he was well out of sight.

The tears that fell, now ones of happiness as you watched the male head towards what he had worked so hard for. Heart full as you knew you needn't to be worried any longer.

Not when you knew Azriel had something worth fighting for – someone worth fighting for.

You.

Yet that feeling didn't last for long, all thoughts pulled from the shadowsinger as a heavy hand fell onto your shoulder.

Alarmed eyes shooting to the perpetrator, widening further still as they fell onto the gaunt face of your father. Eyes hollow and lips downturned as he ominously warned, "It's time girl."

~~~

It was dark when Azriel returned.

Having emerged from the rite victorious, the fortunate victors now arrived back into Windhaven to celebrate. Grins stretched across their lips as they walked towards the blazing fire where the rest of their evening was to be spent in merry enjoyment.

Yet there was no smile on the shadowsinger's face, not as he craned his neck to look past the crowd of well-wishers. Shadows aiding in his hunt by swimming through the pools of surrounding people, searching for the one face their master so longed to see.

Hoping to see the familiar smile which had carried him through the trials.

He needn't search far.

The sound of hurried footsteps filling his ears before a body collided with his own. His arms instinctively wrapping around your waist in order to pull you in closer, nose settling into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent for the first time in a week.

"Gods, I missed you" he cried hoarsely, pulling back from the hug so as to be able to see your face again. Beaming as he brought a hand to cup your cheek, failing to notice the way in which your smile didn't quite meet your eyes. Adrenaline still rampant in his veins from the rite, Azriel wasted no time in bringing his lips to meet your own.

Where your first kiss had been rushed and desperate, this was one was slower, softer. Azriel taking his time with sweeping his lips over yours, savoring the moment in which you began to kiss him back. His worn hands working to slowly explore the length of your body as your lips danced together.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you whispered against his lips; words being met with the pearlescent grin of the shadowsinger.

Providing you with no answer, Azriel grabbed onto your hand before eagerly tugging you in the direction of his home. Too lost within his lovestruck haze to notice your unbalanced stumbles as you breathlessly trailed behind him.

"Az, where are you going? I thought we were going to celebrate!" Cassian's voice yelled after his retreating figure. Rhysand grabbed onto his brother's arm as he tugged him in the direction of the fire, a knowing smirk upon his lips as he answered, "I think he is celebrating Cas."

You were a flurry of limbs and giggles as you entered Azriel's home. Lips finding each other's once more as the pair of you became lost to your primal urges. The overwhelming need to be close to one another after only a week apart was almost too much to bear.

Sighs of intoxicated pleasure slipped from your mouth as Azriel began to trail his burning lips along the expanse of your neck. The male smirking as he slowly grazed his sharp teeth across your sensitive skin.

Needing more, Azriel moved to press your back against the wall in order to close the distance between you. Leaning in to seal your lips together once more until he was stopped by the painful cry which rang from your mouth.

It took seconds for the lust in the shadowsinger's dark eyes to fade.

Azriel's once sultry gaze growing panicked as his face contorted into a picture of horror. The amber glow of the faelight finally permissing him to see what the darkness of the night had hidden.

"Your wings!"

A shaky breath fell from Azriel's lips, hazel eyes swimming with tears as they raked over the scarred membrane of your clipped wings. Teeth bared as a low growl rumbled in his chest, "I'm going to kill him."

Fists trembling with rage, Azriel made to leave. Exhaustion after his trialing week long forgotten as the desire for revenge took an inescapable hold of him.

Yet your hands chased after him, holding onto Azriel's wrists in desperation as you looked up the male with begging eyes, "Stay. Please."

Shaking with the effort it was taking to stay put, Azriel sighed as he glances back to your wings. Jaw clenching as he cursed, "I should never have left."

Heart twinging at his self-placed blame, you pulled your lips into a sad smile, hand coming to rest against his quivering cheek, "You had to go Az, and I'm so proud of you for doing so."

A cry of protest slipped from his mouth, Azriel's eyes squeezing shut as he pressed his cheek further into your comforting hand. Voice breaking as he spoke, "They wouldn't have touched you if I was here."

"It was bound to happen eventually" you truthfully stated, "At least I was fortunate enough to keep mine, others aren't so lucky."

Azriel inhaled sharply, pulling you into a soft hug, careful not to disturb your fragile wings, "That doesn't make this any less right."

"No" you agreed, nuzzling deeper into Azriel's chest. His familiar scent a welcoming reminder that you were safe. No one could hurt you again, not whilst you were in Azriel’s arms. Content to stay in his embrace forever, you spoke, "But I have you, and that's all I need for now."

"I'll get you out of here" Azriel promised, loosening his hold on you just enough to allow his serious eyes to meet your own, "I don't know when. Or where we'll go. But I'll get you out. We’ll never have to see this damn camp again.”

"Together?" you asked, needing reassurance that you wouldn't have to face your uncertain future alone.

"Together" Azriel smiled.

~~~

"Stop peeking!" Azriel chided, unable to stop the smile of contentment which spread across his lips as you giggled at the sensation of his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck.

"I'm not!" you promised, chuckling as Azriel's palm moved to better cover your lightly closed eyes.

The shadowsinger hummed in disagreement, his free hand coming to curl around your stomach. Pulling you closer into his chest as he led you deeper into the forest.

"You're going to make me fall" you warned with a laugh, stumbling as Azriel's legs bumped against your own. The male's arms moving to hold you tighter still, soft lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "So long as you're in my arms, I will never let you fall."

Thankful that Azriel couldn't see your rising blush, you allowed him to walk you towards whatever surprise he had planned. Satisfied the shadowsinger would keep you safe, you tightly squeezed your eyes shut.

Putting your trust into the males loving hands.

You needn't walk much further, Azriel gently pulling you to a stop as the warmth of the evening breeze began to kiss your cheeks. The heat of the setting sun working to banish the chill that had settled in your bones as you moved through the shadowed forest.

"Ok angel," Azriel purred, the hand covering your face moving to your shoulder as he placed a swift kiss upon your temple, "take a look."

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting as the amber glow of the evening flooded into your vision. Heart pleasantly aching at the view that greeted you once your gaze came into focus.

"It's beautiful Az" you softly gasped, mouth parting in awe as you took in the picturesque scene before you. The slowly setting sun, inching ever closer towards the horizon. The ghostly silhouette of the towering mountains in the distance. The woolen blanket, carefully laid across the ground before you.

"It is" Azriel answered, tender eyes never leaving your delicate features.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze from the breathtaking view, you turned back to Azriel with a crease between your brows, "But why? . . . I've not forgotten something important have I?"

"No, not at all. I just wanted to do something nice for you" Azriel reassured. His hands moving to gently cup your cheeks in order to pull your loving eyes to meet his own. But you didn't fail to miss the rising pool of sadness which swam amongst his affectionate gaze.

"What is it?" you asked, your once peaceful expression now morphing into one of worry, "What's wrong?"

A low sigh fell from the male's lips, Azriel's forehead gingerly coming to rest against yours, "I've been given my orders, the High Lord asked for me himself. . . I am to leave tomorrow."

Your heart sank, mouth growing dry upon the realization that this would be your last night together for a while. But this was what Azriel had always dreamed of, having a purpose. Having worth. And so you would not allow yourself to be selfish and ruin that dream.

"T-that's great Az" you exclaimed, forcing a proud smile onto your lips, "You've worked so hard for this."

"But you-" Azriel contested, ever the selfless Illyrian.

"Will still be here when you return" you reassured him, moving to place a sweet kiss onto his forehead.

Azriel's eyes softly closed at your gesture, a shaky breath drawing from his lips before he quietly spoke, your heart aching at his solemn words, "I just wish we had more time."

"We have time now" you soothed, blinking away your tears before taking Azriel's hand into your own, gently pulling him towards the waiting blanket, "Let this night be our forever."

There, wrapped in Azriel's embrace, the two of you sat and talked as though you had all the time in the world. Because there, sat within the comfort of his arms, the fading amber of the setting sun before you, it felt as though you did.

"Azriel?" you quietly ask once the conversation had dwindled into a peaceful silence.

"Hmm?" he replied, hazel eyes sweeping over your face in question. His hand moving to lovingly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Kiss me."

Wordlessly, Azriel brought his thumb to slowly brush across your lip. Hooded gaze growing dark as a radiant smile crossed his face. Leaning in to huskily whisper in your ear, "How lucky I am, to have been blessed by an angel as beautiful as you."

And then his lips crashed to yours.

It was a heated battle of tongues and teeth. Azriel biting back a groan at the softness of your lips as they worked against his own. Your intoxicating scent delectably filling his senses until Azriel's thoughts were consumed only by you.

Moving to sit in his lap, you desperately pulled at the top of his leathers. Azriel aiding you in removing the item before your warm hands instantly moved to explore the vast expanse of his muscular chest. Mouth coming back to meet his own as you playfully nipped at the shadowsinger's lips, eliciting a soft whimper from the male who found himself entirely at your mercy.

Skirt bunching at your hips, you broke the kiss to slip your dress from your body. Nipples pebbling as the cool evening air hit your breasts. Azriel's hands froze, hovering over the curves of your waist, lustful gaze turning hesitant as his touch shied from your unblemished skin.

Seeking to quell his hesitance, you brought your hands to meet his own, lightly kissing the scarred flesh before whispering a soft truth, "You're perfect, Az." Hips moving to grind against his hardening member as you reiterated, "Every last inch of you is perfect."

Slowly, you raised Azriel's tense hands to rest against your breasts, the supple skin working to ease his trembling until the dark cloud of desire pooled in his eyes once more. His once stiff fingers relaxing as they began to work your breasts, the male smiling softly as cries of pleasure began to spill from your lips.

Unable to help the way your hips were bucking in desperation, you moved to unlace Azriel's pants as his swollen lips came to gently suck the sensitive skin of your neck, tongue working to trail over each of the purple marks left behind. A low groan escaping from his mouth as you pulled his aching cock from his leathers, twitching as you moved to wrap your hand around his length.

Azriel's hands flew to your waist as he made to flip you over. However, unwilling to hand over your control so easily, your firm hands moved to keep him beneath you. The smoky tendrils of his shadows creeping in to hold their master in place.

Eyebrows knitting together in protest, Azriel made to argue. Yet your teasing words beat him to it, "Poor Illyrian baby." Hand coming to rest on the center of his chest, you languidly rolled your hips against his leaking cock, "Relax, Azriel. Let me take care of you."

Moaning at the sound of his name on your lips, Azriel settled with placing his hands on your hips. The shadowsinger lifting you up in order to allow the head of his cock to slip between your soaking folds.

Inhaling deeply, you lower yourself onto him. Your soft whimper meeting Azriel's guttural cry as you sunk until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Allowing you the time to adjust, Azriel placed sweet kisses along your collarbones. Whispers of how perfect your heat felt wrapped around his cock tumbled from his lips, distracting you from the twinge of pain which had risen from the unfamiliar stretch.

Only when the ache had subsided, and your desire for more had become all too overwhelming, did you then move your hands to Azriel's shoulders. Clutching onto the shadowsinger for support as you began to move. Slowly raising your hips before sinking back down onto his cock once more.

It didn't take the two of you long to find a pleasurable rhythm.

Azriel's bruising grip on your waist working to pull your body down in time to meet his forceful thrusts. Incoherent mumblings of pleasure slipping from your lips as Azriel fucked you with a brutal pace.

It was only when you were nearing your high, and you wanted Azriel to ride the wave of pleasure alongside you, did you stretch your hand out to rake a teasing finger along the sensitive membrane of his wing. Azriel's cock pulsating inside of you as the male stilled, a strangled shout falling from his mouth at your action.

Pleased with the male's reaction, you repeated the motion, nail brushing against his twitching wings once more. A low growl rumbled in Azriel's chest, eyes blown black as he moved to flip the two of you over. Your own wings stretching out in order to allow you to comfortably lie on your back.

Azriel's cock never leaving your heat for a moment as he continued his unforgiving pace. Stars blurring your vision as his relentless pounding pulled you nearer and nearer to completion.

And then the wave crashed over you, vision turning white as a scream of pleasure tore from your lips. Azriel continuing his merciless thrusts as he chased after his own high, hands falling to your hips to try and steady your spasming body.

It wasn’t long after that Azriel followed suit, thrusts faltering as he came with a hoarse groan. The male exhaling a soft sigh of satisfaction as he withdrew himself from your core, arms caging your body as he rolled over in order to pull you on top of his chest.

Panting, Azriel raised a hand to brush the stray wisps of hair from your face. Eyes blowing wide with realization as he found himself unable to stop the words which fell from his lips next, "I love you."

Your breath caught in your throat, teary gaze looking to Azriel as your lips parted wordlessly. You had waited years for this, to hear the words you thought you would never be fortunate enough to hear. And now the moment had come you found yourself utterly incapable of expressing the undying devotion you felt for the male in front of you.

"I love you" Azriel repeated, unphased by your lack of an immediate answer, "I always have, from that very first day. All it took was one look and I knew you were it for me."

Tears welling in his hazel eyes, Azriel takes in a shaky breath before he continues, "I love you like the sun loves the moon. So much so that I would die every night, so only to let you breathe."

A sob escaped from your lips, your hand moving to rest against Azriel's cheek in order to allow your thumb to gently catch each falling tear. "Shadows" you corrected with a small smile, Azriel's expression morphing into one of confusion, "I love you like the sun loves the shadows. That I would give up my light, so only to see you dance."

Softly, you brought your lips to his. And even with the smallest of kisses, you were able to show the eternal nature of your love.

"I don't want to go" Azriel weakly cried, his words bringing you back to the unfair reality you had been dealt.

It was your turn to lovingly brush his dark hair back, matching tears falling down your own cheeks as you answered, "It's not forever. We'll see each other again."

"I'll come say goodbye tomorrow morning" he promised, sorrowful voice cracking as he spoke.

"No goodbyes, Az" you said with a bittersweet smile, moving to rest your head against his chest in order to savor your remaining time together.

As you watched the night crawl in, and the warm hues of the day had long since melted into the inky darkness; you wondered if the sun yearns for the comfort of night. In the same way you yearned for the comfort of his shadows.

~~~

Azriel's absence took a toll on you.

Your joy-filled days once spent in his company were now long forgotten as the mundane reality of life without the shadowsinger had finally come to pass.

It was as though Azriel had taken all the warmth with him when he left. The absent presence of his comforting embrace allowing the bitter chill of Windhaven to permanently settle into the marrow of your bones.

The arrival of each new month a cruel reminder that you had been left behind. Spite festering within your heart upon realization that your fate, alongside that of every other female's here, was forever bound to the camp.

Yet the dark clouds brewing overhead signaled a change in the wind.

War was coming to Prythian.

Whispers of skirmishes arising between the faeries and the mortals travelled like wildfire throughout the camp. All eyes warily looking up to the approaching storm which was steadily growing above the shadowed mountains of Illyria.

It was the males who left first, called to action by their High Lord.

You watched them leave through your frosted window, wondering if Azriel would be waiting for them at their final destination. Pondering what life would have in store for them now that they were free from the burdensome shackles of the prisonous camp. Ultimately knowing that they would fare no better in the future that awaited them at the frontlines.

The next sign that the war had finally arrived was the diminishing supplies. Even miles away from the nearest frontier, the conflict didn't leave Windhaven untouched.

Wartime Illyria was not a place for luxuries. Materials were growing scarce and food even more so, all your valuable recourses having been sent to the warriors in the mortal lands. Your father growing increasingly insufferable as his forced sobriety from the rationed drinks plagued him like an unquenchable thirst.

And then a stranger arrived at your camp.

A male from Dawn, skilled in the art of medicine, seeking aid in healing the countless victims left wounded from the violet acts of war.

Unsurprisingly, the hostile inhabitants of Windhaven all turned their noses up at his cry for help, unwilling to risk their lives on the battlefield for the sake of another's. Yet to you, the call for aid was a blessing. An invitation for you to do the one thing you've always wanted to.

Leave.

So for once in your life you allowed yourself to be selfish.

You didn't think about whether Azriel would return for you - far too many years had passed for you to still think that was a possibility. You didn't even think about your hopeless father, who without your help would surely succumb to his toxic lifestyle.

You only thought about the little girl who used to dream of seeing the world. Bright-eyed and unbroken as she spent her days wishing for someone to come and save her from the iron cage she called her home.

But no one was coming for you, you understood that now.

And so, longing to make a name for yourself in a kinder world, you answered the call.

Walking away from Windhaven without so much as a glance at the life you were leaving behind.

~~~

Azriel was dreaming again.

Dreaming of you.

Of moonlit encounters and sun-kissed embraces.

Glowing smiles and heated kisses.

And at the center of it all, you.

Yet when he wakes the sheets are cold and bare.

But the ghost of you never strays far from Azriel's mind.

~~~

His mornings always started the same.

Azriel rudely torn from his sweetened dreams by the coming of a new day. Chest unnaturally empty as he gathered the will to crawl out from the security of his sheets.

A stranger in his own home, he drifts downstairs.

Spending breakfast alongside the beaming faces of his brothers and their equally contented mates. The shadowsinger a silent observer of their animated conversations, only ever sparing a grunt of acknowledgement whenever the discussion turned his way.

Their gleeful smiles a glaring reminder to Azriel that he still hadn't found the missing piece of his soul. Tender heart aching as he longed to find the same overwhelming sense of happiness that his family shared around him. Unaware of his brother's concerned stares as they watched him slowly turn into a shell of the male he used to be.

Their worry growing, as with each passing day Azriel became more and more like one of his shadows.

Silent and unyielding.

Yet Azriel found himself helpless when it came to fighting the crushing feeling that he was to forever remain alone. Unable to sit there and watch his friends fall in love without wondering why the cauldron hadn't dealt him the same blessed fate.

Your haunting presence never failing to return to the forefront of his mind as Azriel feared that his first love was also bound to be his last.

~~~

Wallowing seemed to be Azriel's new favourite past time.

Even in the company of his friends and family, the shadowsinger failed to ever truly let the lines of his smile meet his eyes. Mind numb and heart aching, Azriel's increasingly glum attitude did not make for the most pleasant of companies.

Yet, unable to sit around as her friend slowly became half the male he used to be, Feyre decided that she wouldn't allow the Illyrian to pull away without putting up a fight. Adamant that the Azriel she used to know was simply hidden away, the Lady of Night wondered if perhaps the soothing touch of a woman was all that the male needed in order for his depressive episode to lift.

And so, having ignored Rhysand's warnings that trying to force love onto the shadowsinger would be a bad idea, Feyre began her master plan.

She started small.

Testing the waters by suggesting to Azriel that it would be nice for him to step into Velaris's dating scene. Casually mentioning that a friend of hers was looking for a partner and she thought the pair of them would be well-matched.

Much to her dismay, her efforts were met with no result, Azriel's gruff reply being a crude remark that if her friend were so desperate for a partner then she may have better luck searching in a brothel.

However, not one to give up so easily, Feyre persisted.

Each passing day bringing about new opportunities for her to share the news of a potential love interest that she believes the male should indulge in.

In the beginning, Azriel found amusement in Feyre periodically showing up at his door. He'd even feign interest as the female listed off the attributes of yet another young maiden she claimed would be perfect for him. Smiling along encouragingly as she spoke before ultimately shutting his door in her face.

But what the male hadn't predicted, was just how far Feyre would go in order to secure the happiness of her friend.

Determined that Azriel would find love so only he tried, the High Lady had neglected to tell the shadowsinger about his evening plans until the hour of his date was already upon him.

Feyre merrily bouncing on her heels as she broke the news to the male, excitable grin plastered across her lips as she waited in bated anticipation for Azriel's appreciative reaction.

But it never came.

Instead, Azriel's face turned deathly pale as his eyes briefly flickered over to the young woman standing besides Feyre, a shy smile gracing her face as she waited for the shadowsinger to greet her.

"What is this?" Azriel asked roughly. Taking the time to swallow the rising storm of anger which had settled on his tongue, the male well aware that Feyre's friend was just an innocent victim in the Lady of Night's game.

"This is your date, Az" Feyre said encouragingly, "It's time to put yourself out there."

The thundering whispers of his shadows were impossible to ignore.

Not her, they cried into his ears. Not her.

Azriel willed himself a stretched smile, chest tight and breathing difficult as he turned to Feyre's friend, "I apologize miss, my High Lady has chosen to lead you here under false pretenses, I'm not looking for a partner. Please allow me to walk you home."

Feyre's face fell in dejection, lips parted in surprise as her bewildered gaze fell upon Azriel's unrevealing expression, "But . . . I thought-"

"You thought wrong," Azriel interjected, hurt shining through his furious stare, "We'll discuss you and your thoughts once I've taken your friend home."

Feyre was still there upon Azriel's return, her face a picture of fury as the male walked through the door, "What was that?"

"What was that?" Azriel scoffed, his booming voice echoing against the hollow walls of the house's entryway, "What the fuck were you thinking Feyre?"

The female shrunk under Azriel's burning gaze, ears turning red with embarrassment as she quietly answered, "I was just trying to help. . . I thought you wanted to find love."

"I had love!" Azriel shouted in response. His outburst enough to have gathered Rhysand's attention as the High Lord winnowed into the room, rushing towards his teary mate's side.

"I had love" Azriel repeated lowly, voice cracking as he spoke, "And look how well that turned out for me."

"That's not Feyre's fault Az" Rhysand answered in defense of his mate, tone calm and steady as he worked to ebb away his brother's rising anger, "She didn't know."

"No, she didn't" Azriel replied solemnly, accusatory stare turning to the High Lord, "But you did and yet you still let her do it. . . But it's fine! Let's all play with Azriel's heart because we need some entertainment."

Rhysand's mouth dropped open, failing to find an answer that his brother deserves to hear. A cold laugh of disbelief fell from Azriel's lips, the male shaking his head as he began to walk away, "You know why I can't move on Rhys. Why I never will."

It was in that moment, whilst Rhysand watched Azriel's retreating figure, did the male then realize what all this was about. That it wasn't love that Azriel had been searching for all these years; it was you.

~~~

He came at night.

The firelight cowering in his presence.

Its amber flames licking at the darkness which had arrived alongside him. Those familiar violet eyes twinkling through the shadows as your High Lord slowly stepped into the light.

"My, my" Rhysand crooned, lips pulling into a cheshire smile, "You are a difficult woman to find."

"Rhys?" you ask in disbelief, resisting the urge to pinch yourself. Afraid of waking up from whatever strange dream your mind had conjured, "What are you doing here?"

"What I should have done centuries ago. . ." Rhysand answered, his charming smile failing to hide the worry which danced in his telling eyes, "I'm taking you home."

~~~

Azriel had grown up listening to the tales of men who claimed to have seen the Mother.

Their stories full of mighty wonder as they spoke of a being so perfect that her beauty alone was enough to drive even the strongest of males to the brink of insanity.

He had never believed them of course. Having laughed at their foggy eyes and lovesick expressions, believing their drunken words to have been no more than what they were. Fairytales.

But there you were.

Smile just as warm as he remembered, features just as soft.

Standing there in ethereal beauty as you waited for the shadowsinger to approach. Yet all Azriel could do was stare, wordless mouth parted in shock as the realization dawned on him that this was the closest he would ever get to seeing the Mother herself.

Azriel's hand flew to his chest. Never having imagined that after all this time your beauty would still have the power to disarm him just as it had done the day you first met. Unable to stop the cry of joy which fell from his lips as his dormant heart sparked to life. Eyes closing in relief as he felt the familiar comfort of its rhythmic pounding once more.

His love reborn as your two souls reunited once more.

"Hi Az" you beam, hand coming to rest against his tear-stained cheek, your voice coaxing the trembling male to open his hazel eyes, "I've missed you."

Stunned speechless, all Azriel could do was cry.

Weeping as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, the two of you sinking to the floor as he fell into the comfort of your loving embrace. The recognizable scent of your sweet aroma finally spurring his words into existence, "I came back for you."

You inhaled sharply at his words, pulling away from the hug in order to meet his sincere gaze. "After the war" he explained, stumbling over his words in an attempt to get them out, "I wanted to bring you to Velaris. . . But you weren't there. They told me that you were gone, that you were never coming back."

Hushing the male you moved his head to rest against your chest, running your fingers through his dark hair in attempt to calm him. Your own tears running down your face at the realization that Azriel had come back for you.

That he hadn't forgotten you.

"I'm here now" you promised softly, gently placing a kiss atop of the shadowsinger's head, "And I'm not going anywhere-"

You barely managed to get the words out before Azriel's lips crashed onto yours. Whimpering at the familiar sensation of his soft lips against your own. Five hundred years, that's how long you had yearned for this. For his mouth, his touch, his warmth.

Azriel pulled away, lifting his hands to your face in order to wipe away the stay tears which remained. "I love you" he blurted, hazel eyes sparking with life as he said the words, "cauldron I love you."

An overjoyed laugh tumbled from your lips, your tender smile wide as you listened to what Azriel had to say.

"No more waiting" Azriel begged, "I've already wasted five hundred years that should have been spent by your side. But not anymore. . . I'll spend the next five hundred years telling you just how much I love you. . . So long as you still want me that is, if there isn't anyone else."

"Want you?" you asked in surprise, "I'm already yours Az, I always have been. So just as they were the first, let your lips be the last to ever kiss mine. Because you're it for me Az, there is no one else."

You didn't need to ask again, Azriel bringing his lips to meet yours once more. Taking his time to pour all of his love into the action before pulling away to whisper a promise against your parted lips, "I'll never leave you again, not as long as I live."

"I won't let you" you answer, pulling the male into another crushing hug, "I'm never letting go of you again."

It was there, wrapped within your embrace on the floor of his home, that Azriel finally allowed himself to believe that everything was going be ok. Because how could it not be when his happiness had finally returned. The shadowsinger safe with the knowledge that at the end of the night, the sun will rise.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel spymaster

394 notes · View notes

lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me · 3 days

Text

⋆୨♡୧⋆bitchless era ending soon⋆୨♡୧⋆

walking into the meeting room y/n couldn’t help but internally scream. what the hell was he doing here? why didn’t her manager tell her about this? especially since she was just in practice and didn’t have time to dress up and hopefully look not a hot mess. her mouth dropped open in shock, resisting the urge to yell “what the fuck” in front of everyone. after a moment of awkward silence her manager spoke up. “y/n meet riki, riki meet y/n. you guys will be working together from now on. we set up this time for you to meet and talk and get to know each other.” she gestured to riki’s manager, “we’ll be going so you two can talk freely. have fun!” the two left and left riki and y/n alone. while y/n was having her internal panic, little did she know, so was he. the moment he saw her he knew he was fucked. after heeseung gave him no help, he had no idea what to say to her. “soo…” he said “your debut was really good!”. y/n didn’t know what to do. her celebrity crush of 3 years, just complimented her music. all that she could muster was “uh- thanks you too”. thanks you too???? why the hell would she say that? he laughs slightly, not being able to help but think about how cute she was. “um are you excited to start mcing?” she asks, nervousness clear in her voice. he smiled, “yeah i am, what about you?” she tried her absolute hardest to not say something stupid again and said “yeah! just a little nervous though. i’ve never done anything like this before.” riki saw his opportunity, he knew he had to take it. even though he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. “we should hang out sometime. i’ve done it a couple times before, i could give you some tips to make it easier!” no. fucking. way. too many thoughts were running through y/ns head. did nishimura riki really just ask her to hang out? there’s no way this is real. never did she think that this would happen “uhhhh- yeah! yeah sure that would be fun!” whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck “okay nice! how about tomorrow?” whatshappeningwhatshappeningwhatshappening “yeah sure. that sounds perfect” holy. shit. cha y/n is hanging out with nishimura riki. “okay, ill see you then” riki had never been more nervous in his whole life. he couldn’t wait to shove this in all of his members faces. “im sure you have to get back to practice, right?” there was no shock as to why he knew that, she looked like a sweaty mess. “yeah, actually. i do. so i’ll see you then!” she overthought her every word, and move. how could she not when she’s around him. to her, he was perfect. “see you around!” riki left the room and practically ran back to his dorm. that couldn’t have gone better. y/n however, was freaking the ever living hell out. “did nishimura riki just ask me out? no that’s not possible we just met eachother! it’s friendly! that’s all!” after what felt like hours of contemplating she decided to go back to the dorm, tweet about it, and tell taesan and jaehyun. i mean, how was she supposed to go back to practice after something like this?

masterlist | next | previous

luckys note!: i’m sorry this took so long guys!! schools getting crazy since it’s almost the end of the year. but i hope you enjoyed the first written chapter! this is my first time like, actually writing so i hope it turned out good!

(📌) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

(🩷) MIDNIGHT FICTION TAGLIST! @nctislifue @akuspic @pkjay @siya-bean @eun-chaez @wavetosunoo @gweoriz @luminouskalopsia @soobiary @ivyannemarie @rikikiynikilcykiki @emma2black @enh4ht @wooziswife @jjunie-0 @yumilovesloona @wth121 @riksaes @isaxshin @allforhee @rikisgeef @chxrlvspp @sunghoonsarmpit @autumn583 @tzuyusluv

(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

94 notes · View notes

upat4amwiththemoon · 5 hours

Note

hii i love your writing especially the wandnat fics 😭 can i request a pt. 3 or just something with “the blip” universe where r wakes up after spending the night at her moms and when she doesn’t find them in their room she starts panicking and it takes her back to when they blipped (but they find her and help her thru it)

The blip | 3

Summary: Broken families take time to heal.

Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: some angst, panic attack-ish

Word count: 1283

a/n: I added some things, hope you don’t mind! I think I’m going to make a 4th part too🫢

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Previous parts: part 1, part 2

The little while Y/N was supposed to stay with her moms turned into a week, then two more, a month, and another one. However, Wanda and Natasha have not minded it at all, they’re over the moon to spend more time with their daughter.

They don’t live at their old apartment anymore, having decided it’d be too overwhelming for Y/N to go back there. Instead, they live in a house further away from the city and the noise. It has three bedrooms, one for guests, one for Wanda and Natasha, and one for Y/N.

It’s perfect for the three of them.

Of course, Natasha and Wanda aren’t pressuring Y/N into moving in with them permanently, which is why she is still paying rent on her crappy apartment, but their hope is high.

Y/N paces around in the living room, wearing her best clothes, which weren’t that good with her minimal income as she refused to let her mothers use too much money on her.

“She’ll be here soon.” Wanda sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving her a comforting smile. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I know, I just-“ she takes a breath, “I haven’t seen her since that day.”

Natasha steps inside the room. “She won’t blame you for that. She’ll understand why.”

Staying quiet, Y/N stares out of the window, waiting for a car to drive into their road. Her hands are shaking, so she keeps playing with the rings on her fingers. Wanda keeps staring at the rings with a small smile, happy to see her daughter wearing her old rings, but missing the times she used to play with her hands when nervous.

A black car with tinted windows drives to the front of the house. Kat’s breath hitches, seemingly unable to move before Natasha gives her a small nudge. “Go on.”

Y/N walks to the porch and down the few stairs on it, her moms behind her. Maria is standing by her car. “Hey, bug.” She has a smile on her face, but she looks afraid. Y/N is pretty sure she has never seen Maria afraid.

“Hi, aunt Maria.”

With that, Maria, who brides her ability to keep her emotions in check, starts crying.

Y/N’s eyes widen. It takes her a moment to react, but when she does so, she walks straight to Maria and hugs her. Her arms wrap around Maria’s neck, while the woman’s arms go around Y/N’s waist tightly.

They stare for a moment, both crying, before Maria pulls slightly away to wipe away the tears. “I’m so sorry, I really am.” She sniffles, moving her hands on Y/N’s cheeks to lift her head up to face her. “I’m sorry I left you alone in there.”

Y/N shakes her head, her lower lip quivering at her honorary aunt’s words. “It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

Maria smiles, appreciating the words though she doesn’t fully believe them. One of her hands moves to the side of Y/N’s head, petting her hair softly. “You’re so grown now. You’re not fourteen anymore.”

“I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“You don’t need your aunt to guide you anymore.” Her voice is soft, but it has bitterness in it. She’s angry at the world, and herself, for missing out on the rest of Y/N’s teenage years.

“I do.” Her words are quick. “I need you, just like I still need my moms.” The last words come out quieter than the rest, just so Wanda and Natasha can’t hear her. It was always easier to reveal certain things to Maria rather than her moms.

Maria glances at the two other women patiently waiting for them by the porch. She gives them a smile. “Let’s go inside, yeah? we have all the tome in the world now.” Her hand rests on Y/N’s shoulders as she starts leading her towards the house.

Maria stayed in the Maximoff-Romanoff household until four in the morning. They spent all the hours catching up, though Y/N wasn’t too keen on talking about her life alone too much, but she shared the important details.

The clock strikes 12:30 when Y/N finally manages to wake up, still tired from staying up so late. It takes her 20 minutes to actually get out of bed.

She stands up, stretching her whole body and yawning, which causes her to get a short dizzy spell. With tired movements, she walks into the empty kitchen.

Y/N frowns, usually her moms are already up and making breakfast at this time. Her heart gets a heavy feeling, but she pushes it away, making her way to the main bedroom. She knocks on the door. When there’s no answer, she knocks again, harder this time.

“Mom? Mama?” She’s not afraid to call Wanda mama anymore.

Once again, no answer.

Her breathing picks up. This isn’t the blip, this isn’t the blip. She says the sentence over and over in her mind, but it’s getting swallowed by her panic. She opens the door and steps inside the empty bedroom, her dread growing by the second.

“Mom!” Y/N starts walking in and out of all the room, checking every possible nook and cranny. “Mama!” She quickly makes her way to the living room. Her shaky hands grab the remote control and turn on the television. The channels change quickly as she searches for the news channel.

Before she can fully try to listen to the news anchor, the front door opens. Her moms walking in, both of them holding grocery bags.

“Where were you?” Y/N shaky words make the two women set the bags down, frowns on their faces as they see the disheveled state their daughter is in. “I- I thought you were gone again. Why would you leave like that? You can’t just-“ the words are coming out quickly.

“Hey, hey,” Wanda sits on the couch, pulling Y/N right next to her, “we’re here and we’re okay.”

Natasha walks into the kitchen, picking up a note they wrote from the floor. It was taped to the fridge so Y/N would see the written We’re grocery shopping, will be back soon! easily. “I’m sorry, kрошка.” She sets the paper on the counter before joining the two on the couch. “The note fell.”

Y/N sniffles, trying to keep her sobs at bay while she fully leans into her mothers’ embrace. “I thought you left me again.”

“No, no.” Natasha and Wanda sandwich Y/N in their embrace. “We will never ever leave you again, and I know-“ Natasha continues talking before Y/N can say anything, “I know it’s hard to keep that promise, and it’ll take you time to fully trust us again. That’s okay. You just have to know, that we’ll do everything in our power to keep you and us safe.”

Y/N sniffles, her head in the crook of Wanda’s neck and her hand holding onto Natasha’s hand tightly. “Okay,” her voice is quiet as a whisper, “you won’t leave without telling again?”

“No, baby.” Wanda kisses the top of her head, keeping her face there, taking comfort in her scent even though it’s not as familiar. “We won’t leave without making sure you know exactly where we are.”

Y/N nods. She pulls away and rubs her eyes, clearing them from the tears. “What’d you get from the store?” She changes the subject, feeling slightly embarrassed of her panicked state.

Her moms make no comment of it, they go right into telling Y/N about their plan of the day to cook and bake together.

66 notes · View notes

madi-writes-things · 23 hours

Text

Nobody Pt. 6

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,318

TW:MASSIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! (TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, MY WRITING IS NOT WORTH YOUR HEALTH), Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), Blood, Panic Attacks, Hurt Comfort, SUI ATTEMPT, Crying, Really Depressing, lots of POV swaps, Not Edited

A/N: Thank you for all of the support that I’ve been getting for this story, this chapter is really heavy… PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Please do not read if it will negatively impact your health, this story on tumblr is not worth it. I’ll put a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter, for those who need to skip. This is probably the worst that it will get. Love you guys so much 🥰

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I woke up to Chris wrapped around my waist, just like I had for the last seven months. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this facade, but I also don’t know if I can let it go. The worst part is that I can’t even vent to my best friend, seeing as he is the cause of this whole situation. I stare down at Chris, his hair is so soft. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes, trying best to stop them from falling. Failing miserably.

My sniffles cause Chris’s to lift his head up to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I tell him it’s nothing, not a big deal. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, he sits up looking deep into my eyes. “You can tell me anything Y/N, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or anything.” I just cry harder. He pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I burrow my face into his shoulders.

we stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time. I cry until I physically can’t anymore, Chris doesn’t make me explain myself.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I barely sleep anymore.

Y/N has been drifting away for months now, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m scared that if I fall asleep she’ll sneak past me and relapse. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost her, I don’t know who I would be.

I’m scared to leave her alone, to the point that I don’t even want to leave her to go film with my brothers. The fans have commented on how many videos we’ve made at our house, rather than our usual car videos. I just tell Matt and Nick that I feel bad leaving her alone without us.

I knew it was a mistake to leave her alone tonight, but the fans were getting suspicious. We made the decision not to tell the fans, since we didn’t plan for this charade to go on for so long. I don’t know if I can end it, I’m too in love with her to imagine laying in an empty bed again.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV (start of the really bad stuff)

The guys left to film a car video, it’s been months since they did that. I haven’t been alone long enough to think about relapsing, but sitting alone in Chris’s room, the feeling of loneliness is crushing me.

I need to distract myself. Chris would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t, and I can’t call him while he’s recording. I’ll cook myself something for dinner, the guys will be happy to eat when they get home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Dinner came and went, and I still didn’t feel better. I was scared to call Chris, I didn’t want to bother him and his brothers. It was a mistake.

I stare down, my legs tore to shreds and the wounds on my wrists, I need help. I don’t think I really want to die, I was just overwhelmed. I can’t let them find me dead. I can’t make them hurt the same way that I have. I need to call someone.

I each for my phone, trying desperately to open it. The blood on my hands makes everything harder, but I can’t get up to get a towel. If I stand up I’ll surely pass out. I’m already lightheaded, just hoping that Chris answers my call.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I’m laughing with my brothers and I don’t notice it at first. A small buzz in my pocket. There it is again. As soon as I pull it out I panic.

LOML 🥰 CALLING… ✅ ❎

“Guys! Stop talking real quick.” I immediately press the answer button. “Baby… is everything okay?”

No response. Fuck.

“Matt we need to go home.” He gives me a worried look, but before he can say anything I’m talking into the phone again. “Baby, I need you to talk to me… tell me everything is okay.”

there’s a second before she responds, I can tell that she’s been crying based on the sniffles from her end. “I fucked up Chris.”

My heart drops.

“go faster Matt!” Fuck. “What happened, I need you to tell me what you did!” I don’t mean to yell, but I’ve never been more scared in my life.

“I don’t want to die…” No. This isn’t real. It cant be.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I promise.” I quickly turn to nick and tell him to get 911 on speed dial. “Please just keep talking to me, I need to hear your voice.”

Matt breaks multiple laws in an attempt to get home, but I don’t notice. My whole focus is on keeping Y/N talking. When we get home we all rush upstairs.

“Nick, go sit in the loft.” He looks offended when I say it. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, I don’t think she’d ever forgive me if I let you.” He stays where he is. “Please Nick!” My voice cracks as I say his name. He leaves with tears In his eyes.

“Matt I need you to get the first aid kit from under her bed, it should have everything I need.” With that I open the door to the bathroom.

the scene in front of me is like something straight out of a horror film. I can’t even tell where the blood is coming from. I immediately rush to her side.

“I’m so sorry… I tried to distract myself, I promise.” She’s rambling, but I don’t mind. I’m trying so hard not to cry, but she looks so pale.

“don’t apologize, I’m not mad, nobody is mad” it doesn’t stop the tears, she’s still a sobbing mess beneath me.

Matt returns with the kit, clearly distraught. “It’s okay Matt, it doesn’t look like she needs stitches.” He looks frozen in place, and his breathing is erratic. Shit. “Go sit with nick… she’s going to be okay.” After a few moments he finally pulled himself out of the doorway.

by the time I’m done cleaning her up, Y/N’s tears have dried up. “You don’t need stitches…” I stare at the deep lines that run across each wrist. “But it would make the scars smaller, so you want to go to the hospital?”

“NO!” She’s shaking her head violently. “Please don’t make me go, they’ll take me away again!” I can see the tears forming again.

“ok, we don’t have to go.” I grabs the butterfly bandages, and start pulling the skin together, before tightly wrapping it with gauze. She’s more covered in gauze wrapping than actual clothes at this point. I carry her to my room and get her changed, before taking her to the loft.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Chris changed me, being very gentle around my gauze, and then he set me down on the loft couch next to Nick and Chris. I hear him mumble something about them staying with me while he cleans up.

I can see the relief in Nicks eyes when he sees that I’m alive, Matt just locks eyes with me and leaves. I never meant to upset him, but I can’t seem to find the tears for it right now. I fall into nicks chest and he just holds me.

I tell Nick everything. The relapse. The fake dating ruse. The fact that I really do love Chris.

He just tells me that it’s okay. He promises me that he’s not mad.

Once Chris is done cleaning the bathroom floor, he takes me to lay down in his bed. He’s so gentle when he snakes his arms around me, careful not to hit my arms or legs.

“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”

“who said I was pretending?”

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

#madi writes things #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x reader #sh!reader #tw: sh #self h@rm #tw: suidice

29 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons80sbaby · 23 hours

Text

Hard Habit to Break

Pairing: EddieMunsonxOriginalCharacter

Summary: When a chance at the career he always wanted came knocking at the same time that she received the worst news of her life, they were forced apart. Long distance, time on the road, and stories in the tabloids destroyed anything they had left, leading him down a dark road, playing the role of the bad boy rockstar his manager wanted from him. Now tragedy will bring him back to the town he swore to never step foot in again and face to face with her for the first time in years. Will he be able to stick to the plan or will she be the one habit he can't break?

Trigger Warnings: Cancer battle, death of a parent, grief, addiction

18+ Only

Then

Eyes the color of whiskey, of the forest after the leaves had fallen, of safety and comfort, of love, of everything that had ever meant anything to her, meant everything to her, beseeched her, begged her to say what he wanted to hear. But she couldn’t. Her brain screamed at her, her heart raged at her, her blood was rushing, pounding through her ears, an insistent sound, her entire body revolting against the words that were coming out of her mouth but she had no choice. What else was she supposed to do? It was an impossible choice, one she’d never imagined she would have to make.

“Eddie…I can’t,” Tori whispered, each word fracturing a piece of her as she knew it would. The fracturing would continue, shards of her breaking off bit by bit, until there was nothing left of her but a pile of brittle sawdust on the floor.

“Come on Funshine, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, those ridiculously long lashes sparkling in the sun, beads of tears barely hanging onto the ends, each one just tearing her heart a bit more. If they fell, she was done for. She couldn’t bear to watch him cry. “I can’t do this without you, baby. I just can’t. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

She took his hands in hers, as warm as the rays of sunshine beating down on them. Hands that knew every curve of her body, hands that molded perfectly to her face, hands that held her together, hands that soothed her soul with just a touch. They were her hands. She knew every callous on those fingers, every ridge, every single line that shot through each palm. She’d traced them more times than she could count. She had these hands memorized, the chunky rings that left imprints on her skin just like this man had left imprints on her heart.

Her fingers toyed with those rings, the massive skull, the boar’s head, the cross. She brought his hands to her lips, pressing them over the small black stone of the ring she’d bought him for his birthday her junior year of high school. Tori swallowed, the action painful, her throat refusing to swallow down the sharp, jagged agony of what she knew she had to do whether she wanted to or not.

“I’m sorry. I have to stay,” she cried, staring at his hands, his short fingernails that he always bit down short. Her boy, full of nervous energy that kept him constantly in motion even when sitting still. They were jagged now, copper tracing along the ridges where he’d bitten too short and her heart broke just a bit more, knowing she was the reason for it. “You know that I have to stay right now. I can’t leave her.”

“Then I’ll stay too,” Eddie choked out, on the verge of panic, as if that were a real possibility. As if there were any reality where she would allow him to make that sacrifice for her, to give up everything he’d ever wanted. “I’ll tell them no. I’ll stay with you. I should be here with you anyway. I can’t leave you alone right now. You’re going to need me if…” He stopped, pausing to think about his words, a rarity for him which only indicated even more how much he truly loved her, not wanting to wound her worse than she already was. “When this is all over, when she’s better, then we’ll go together.”

Tori shook her head, finally bringing her eyes to his, sapphire meeting sepia, suffering mirrored in both shades. God, she loved him so much and she loved him even more for offering, for wanting to be by her side, for thinking it was even something he should consider but it wasn’t. She would never let him put his life on hold, possibly ruining his chances at achieving his dream, a dream he’d held for so long, for her.

“No, baby. No…I can’t let you do that. You and the boys have worked too damn hard for this. You deserve this,” she told him, willing him to listen, to accept this because the tighter he held on, the harder it was for her to let him go and she had to. “You can’t turn this down. This is too big of an opportunity, Eddie. I can’t…no, I won’t let you do that.”

“You don’t get to decide for me,” he argued, tears that had been clinging to his lashes now slipping down his cheeks, silent streams of sadness and heartbreak. No. She couldn’t bear it. How was she supposed to be strong when he was falling apart? “It’s my life, Tori.”

“But it’s not just your life,” she reminded him. “What about Gareth and Jeff and Matt? You’re going to make this decision for them too? They want the band. That includes you. Without you, the deal is off. You can’t do that to them, Eddie. You’re not the only one this affects.”

A growl of frustration burst from within him as he broke away, turning his body so his back was to her. Eddie stomped a few steps away from her. His head dropped into his hands as he began pacing back and forth, back and forth, as if he could find some grand solution to this problem if he just kept moving. That was her boy, always moving, never stopping, never letting anything catch up to him. But she knew there was no solution to this, none that meant they stayed together. They had come to an impasse, the only option was the one neither of them wanted to face but had to.

“Eddie, this is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“No, it’s not. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re the cake, Tori. This shit is just the icing on top. Us, you and me, that’s what matters. I can live without fame and money and some stupid record deal. I can’t live without you.”

“You can and you will,” she stated simply, closing her eyes against the pain, a thousand papercuts that would bleed her out slowly. But Eddie would move on. He would bury himself in his music career and he would meet someone else one day and she would become nothing but a distant memory. The girl from the small town he’d left behind. The very thought made her stomach twist painfully but this was all she’d ever wanted for him. For him to be happy, to finally show the world just how amazing he was, for him to get everything he deserved.

“I can’t do this, Funshine,” he admitted softly, words muffled against his hands. “How do you expect me to walk away from you?”

“You’re not walking away from me, Eddie,” she assured, closing the distance between them. Tori slid her hands around his waist, her cheek pressing against the back of his leather jacket, inhaling that scent was just his, that scent she would recognize anywhere, that scent that would haunt her for days until she couldn’t catch it anymore. “You’re not leaving me. We’re just stuck in an impossible situation and it sucks.”

“It does suck!” he roared, causing her to jump. With a deep sigh, he spun in her arms, pulling her into his chest, his chin resting on her head, cocooning her in the safety of his body. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. I know you’re doing what you have to do. It’s just so unfair. I fucking hate this. I hate this so much.”

“I know…me too…” she agreed, burying her face against his jacket, opening her senses in an attempt to absorb him. She wanted everything about him to be imprinted on her, downloaded like a file into her body where she could never forget, never lose everything that was just quintessentially Eddie.

He was going off to live his rockstar dream and it was everything she’d ever wanted for him. Tori had no doubt he would succeed. The talent this man had…there were no words for it. He was made to be on a stage, his presence larger than life. He exuded frontman energy in spades. And the other guys, their talent was wasted here in a small town like Hawkins that couldn’t appreciate them. They deserved stadium tours and standing ovations and hundreds of groups screaming their names. But she knew what that meant for her and her body recoiled at the very thought.

Eddie was heartbroken right now but give it some time and he would move on. He would have girls throwing themselves at him every single night. Just look at him. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. He wouldn’t stay single for long. He would have more options than he knew what to do with. He would be okay. He would heal. He would forget all about the girl he left behind in Hawkins when he was surrounded by gorgeous supermodels and actresses while she…she would never forget, forever clinging to the reminders of what was.

“I love you,” Tori whispered, clinging to him, wishing she could crawl inside of him and stay there, follow him wherever this future took him. “I love you and that’s why I am letting you go, baby.”

“I don’t want you to let me go,” Eddie insisted, fingers pressing into the skin of her back as if he could mark her, brand her, claim her. He didn’t have to do any of that. She was already his, forever. It didn’t matter how much distance was between them or how much time passed, she was his completely and always would be. “Look, we don’t have to break up. We can do the long distance thing until…I mean, why not? I can call you and I can visit when I can and you can maybe come visit me and when you’re ready, then you can come be with me.”

Tori had thought about that. Jesus, this was all she had thought about for the last three months since Eddie had burst in their front door, grinning, bouncing with his good news only to find her on the floor, sobbing. He got the greatest news of his life on the same day she had received the worst news of hers. It was ironic really and not in a haha, that’s so funny kind of way but in a life sucks and just wants to destroy you kind of way. Just when she needed him most, his dreams were coming true and his dream was snatching him away.

“Eddie…” she groaned softly because every time she convinced herself that she was strong enough to let him go, he would say or do something that would make her weak again, make her want to forget everything she’d said. Long distance didn’t work. It would only hurt them both more in the end. “We’ve talked about this. We agreed that…”

“No! We didn’t agree on anything. You keep saying it will never work. You have all kinds of reasons why it won’t work but you’re ignoring the one reason it will.” His hands came to her face and she turned into his touch, rubbing her cheek over his palm, her body searching for him the way it always had. “We love each other. Tori, I don’t care if thousands of other people haven’t made long distance work. I don’t care if Robin and Vickie couldn’t make it work. That doesn’t mean we can’t. We can do anything, Funshine. Come on. You know we can. Does seven years really mean nothing to you?”

Tori reeled back as if he’d slapped her, stepping away from him, eyes wide, gutted by his accusation. A new emotion began to take over the sadness, anger rippling along her skin. How could he even think that? How dare he have the nerve to even say something like that to her. Hadn’t she made it abundantly clear how much he meant to her? How much she loved him? How could he possibly doubt it?

“How dare you!” she snapped. “You know how hard this is for me, Eddie. I fucking hate this! You think I want to be without you? Especially right now? I don’t. When I think about the future, you’re the only thing I see. You’re the only thing I want but I can’t have you. Our paths are going in different directions right now and there’s nothing we do about it. I can’t go and you can’t stay. Please don’t make this harder. Losing you on top of everything else is killing me, Eddie. I am trying to be strong here but I just…I feel like I am falling apart, like I am just going to crumble into nothing and I…I just…”

Sobs tore from her body, her shoulders heaving as she gasped for air, hyperventilating. Everything was falling apart. Her entire world was breaking, shattering. She was losing every single thing that meant anything to her and she was trying so hard to be strong, to hold it together for everyone around her but she was crumbling under the weight of it.

Then Eddie was there, his arms coming around her, keeping those broken pieces together, her own personal superglue, whispering in her hair, “Baby, I am so sorry. I know. I’m sorry.” His hand ran over her hair, cupping the back of her head, pulling her into the solace that was his embrace. “Shit. I’m so sorry. You’re dealing with so much right now. I don’t want to make it worse. I just…I can’t just get on that plane knowing I will never talk to you again. Can’t we at least try to make this work?”

“Eddie…you’re going to forget about me,” she whimpered, wiping her face against his shirt. “You’re going to be so busy. You’re going to have so much to do once you get there. You’re not going to have time to call me. And what happens when you meet someone else? I don’t want you to feel tied down to me. You don’t need that right now and what I have going on, it’s just too much.”

“Wrap rope around my hands and attach me to you because there is no one else. I want to be tied down. Tori, there’s never been anyone else. There will never be anyone else. You’re it for me, Funshine. I love you so much.”

“I just…”

“Please, baby, please,” he pleaded, his lips pressing against her face, kisses of desperation and hope, kisses she was helpless against. “Please just try for me. Let’s just try, okay? It’s not going to hurt to try, right? We can make this work. I know we can.”

She was so tired, too exhausted to fight him anymore. Even though her brain was telling her this would never work, even though she’d gone over it a million times, weighing the pros and cons and the cons always came out on top, Tori just couldn’t battle anymore. Her body sagged against him in surrender.

“Okay…okay…we’ll try,” she whispered.

“I love you, Funshine. I love you so much,” Eddie mumbled against her skin, clinging to her. “We are going to make it, baby. This is going to work. I know it is.”

She wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince her or himself but in the end, it hadn’t mattered.

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

Here is the prologue for my new Eddie fic. It will be original character. I have a hard time writing reader and I have been editing my chapters for Tumblr but it takes so much time. I understand if some of you would rather not read it because of that. I will start posting this book on May 29th so let me know if you want added to the taglist and of course I always love to hear what you think. Thanks so much for your continued support.

27 notes · View notes

whimsyprinx · 1 year

Text

I feel bad that so much of my issue rn is that I’m lonely because I feel like I’m putting a burden on others in admitting this, but like yeah I’m so lonely and I’m worse for it because like I can’t do much about it

#whimsy whispers #I feel like I’m being selfish I feel like a burden I feel like I’m asking too much but like #I’m truly so lonely that I can barely cope and like there just #isn’t much someone who is alone can do about loneliness #I can’t spin it in a positive way I can’t be like wooo inlove solitude I hate it #it’s so very hard to cope with especially when I have to watch other people be close and happy and have people in their lives #people who seek them out and want their company #it hurts even more when those people are the ones who feel like they don’t want to spare a glance towards me #not to be immature and petty but this is a big part of why I’ve left like every single server I’m in #it hurts to see people be happy and friends and wanted and loved #it’s also why I’m like the worst when kane is gone or at nighttime #kane is actually home rn it’s jsut been a bad night ahhfjfk #but he’ll go to see his dad for a few days and I’ll be all alone again #this is all not helped by the fact that I like cannot cope with being alone #as mentioned before I spent a lot of my life growing up isolated from other people I didn’t have peers growing up for a long time #and now when I’m alone/left alone I panic #I’ll even make people eat with me because i don’t wanna be alone I hate being alone I rarely find any comfort in being left alone

5 notes · View notes

jcbmcdrmtt · 5 months

Text

Sorry if I am not as good about tagging stuff for the foreseeable future. I shattered the screen of my tablet (to the point where there are chunks missing and glass dust coming off under your fingers and you can see the electronics under the screen), and I normally use that + a keyboard case to browse tumblr. I’m using my phone now which means a.) no physical keyboard, and b.) I don’t have as much battery life so my time is more limited. I do not see a point where I can replace the tablet or get it fixed anytime soon either.

All that coupled with the fact that I normally use tumblr in a browser, not the mobile app, means it’s a lot harder to tag things now, especially if I can’t just tap to apply OP’s/the reblogger’s tags because they didn’t add any or i don’t like what they used etc.. Tumblr mobile is honestly tiny and kind of crap on my phone browser - the keyboard makes the screen elements squish together and some things like tag rearranging are broken.

TL;DR: You may possibly see more untagged posts from me in the coming weeks. I apologize, understand if you unfollow, and just. Yeah. I guess I just wanted to explain myself as I normally pride myself on my tagging etiquette.

#i was so sad when it happened #it actually fell like 10 ft because I dropped it while going down the stairs #right in front of my sister and brother in law too #we all froze and they audibly gasped when i picked it up and the glass chips fell on the floor #i walked back to the kitchen to begin making my lunch and i could tell they were horrified because they just stood there in the doorway #in silence #they know how much i use/depend on/love my tablet i’m on it so much and i use it as my primary computing device #so they just stood there in horrified silence while i walked away and my BIL asked if i needed anything and i said no i’m good #and i sounded so normal???? which i hated because i was very much NOT okay like after they left i say in the living room petting their dog #and crying a bit #idk why my default response to situations like this is to pretend everything’s fine??#i know HOW i can do- being in the closet for a decade will make you a great actor #but i’ve been out for ANOTHER decade now #i thought i had worked past that instinct #apparently not #fuck that took forever to type on my tiny ass keyboard AND i lost 2% battery while i did it #fuck this #i don’t even need the tablet that badly i can fall back to my ancient laptop for most things #but now i have to sit in my room alone to do all my tumbling instead of introvert socializing on the couch with my sister and BIL #i think i cried mostly because life just keeps kicking me #i quit my awful awful job on the verge of a mental breakdown and then proceeded to take a full fucking year to realize the trauma from that #was WAY worse than i had originally thought and i was straight up mentally no longer able to work in IT/computer programming anymore #i lost my apartment and i literally would have been living in my car until that got repossessed too and then been homeless #if it wasn’t for my family offering me financial support and a place to live #and i am SO privileged to have a support network that is both willing and able to help me out like that #but sometimes i have a panic spiral when i think about the fact that i could have EASILY become another statistic #another person who became unhoused because of mental health struggles at the perfectly wrong time #without my family i would have been living in a bus stop enclosure by now #it terrifies me how close i came to that. a homeless person came up to me and asked for money the other day and i almost started crying #both because of how scared i was that that could have been (and still could eventually be) me

0 notes

perlelune · 4 months

Text

NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body.

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you.

Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow.

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his.

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares.

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it.

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes.

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals.

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room.

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste.

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox.

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up.

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again.

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips.

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies.

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true.

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly.

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling.

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job.

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval.

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that.

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire.

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other.

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features.

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading.

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day.

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face.

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it.

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it.

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze.

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before.

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked.

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door.

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs. The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back.

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind.

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain.

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery.

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked.

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately.

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud.

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement.

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours.

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown.

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you.

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways.

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds.

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…”

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves.

“P-President…”

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest.

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt.

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open.

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle.

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs.

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong.

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him.

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears.

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

#dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

5K notes · View notes

mssainz · 21 days

Text

PART 1 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

“Wow, Mama this place is beautiful!”

“I’m glad you liked it here, my love,”

“Mama, can I explore around?,”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,”

You and Cael arrived in Madrid yesterday. Coming back to the place you wanted to forget is nerve wracking for you. This place brings back plenty of memories of you and Carlos together, about five years ago. But seeing how enthusiastic your four-year-old child is, makes you forget why you came back here in the first place.

Seeing how he enjoys the place calms your heart. Bringing him into beautiful places in Madrid makes you happy but exhausted at the same time. You are alone and you have to look after Cael who possesses the energy of a car battery and wants to just run and explore everywhere.

“Mama, can I have an ice cream?”

“Sure, what flavor do you want?”

“I want the chocolate one, Mama”

“Okay, stay here for a moment,”

You went to the ice cream stand nearby to buy Cael an ice cream. You left him at the small bench for him to rest for a moment from running and playing around.

The lane at the ice cream stall was not that long. You are looking at Cael from time to time while waiting for your turn. Gladly, after a few minutes, you finally got Cael’s ice cream, but the one who was supposed to eat it was gone.

“Cael?”

“CAEL!”

You started to panic and find yourself roaming around the plaza to find your son. You searched for him in every corner of the place but he is nowhere to be found.

He can't be that far. Cael where are you?

While you were waiting for your turn, Cael found a ball and followed it. He didn’t notice that while trying to catch the ball, he went far away from you.

Before he knows it, he didn’t know where he was. He tried to calmly find his way back to the bench where you initially left him. He started to walk as far as his tiny legs have taken. His eyes scanned all the people he runs into the plaza.

After few minutes, he started to get worried as no matter steps he take, he can’t seem to find you. He is nearly sobbing as the fact that he lost you is kicking in. Your son is courageous and smart enough to walked towards the first guy he saw for help.

Cael reached for the hem of his shirt. The man is wearing sunglasses, a white button-up shirt, an ivory short, and a white shoes. He removed his sunglasses and bent down to face Cael.

“Hey, buddy,” Carlos greeted Cael with a smile.

“Papa?” Cael confusely said and suddenly hugged him. Carlos was also confused why he called him Papa. But the hug was so warm and felt good, so he hugged Cael back.

“I must have looked like your Papa, am I? Where are your parents?” Carlos asked Cael.

“Sorry, you really looked like Papa. I'm with my Mama but I got lost. I am trying to find her.” Cael said, in verge of crying.

“It's okay buddy, don’t cry. I’ll help you find your Mama,” Carlos caressed Cael’s cheeks.

“May I ask what’s your name and how old are you, buddy?”

“I’m Sebastian Cael and I’m four years old. Almost five,” Cael said trying to show his four fingers to the man in front of him. Carlos smiled looking at the tiny human being trying to fold his finger.

“Hmm Sebastian Cael, What do you want me to call you?,”

“My friends call me Bash, but my Mama calls me Cael. I prefer if you’ll call me Cael,” Cael said with his naturally puppy brown eyes, melting Carlos.

“I’ll just call you Cael, then. So, can you remember when and where did you last see your Mama?” Carlos patiently wait for his response.

“She told me to rest at the bench as she buys me ice cream. But I got distracted by a ball and followed it,” Cael explained to Carlos how he got lost. Carlos can notice how Cael is trying so hard to hold his tears.

“Cael, buddy. I think you really went too far following the ball because the ice cream stall is at the opposite side of where we are right now. But don’t worry bud we’ll find your Mama, okay?,” Carlos gives Cael a reassuring smile. It is what the boy needs. Cael is in a foreign land and he cannot find his mom. Being snarky is the last thing Carlos wants to be.

Carlos held Cael's hands and walked to the ice cream stall. He tries to rub Cael’s tiny hand from time to time to assure and calm him.

Halfway back to the ice cream stall, Cael found Y/N, who was also looking for him.

“MAMA!” Cael yelled, for you to see him. He immediately let go of Carlos' hands and ran to you. You bent down when you saw Cael and opened your arms for him.

“God, Cael where have you been, my love? I was worried about you. Are you okay?” You hugged Cael tightly.

“I am okay, Mama. Sorry, I got distracted by a ball and followed it,” Cael said feeling sorry for worrying you.

“It’s okay, love. I’m relieved that you're fine. Mama’s here now,” You replied and kissed Cael’s cheeks.

“A gentleman who looks like Papa helped me find you Mama. He is so kind,” Cael said.

“Hmm?” It took few seconds for you to come back to your senses.

Right, how did Cael find his way back?

“There he is Mama,” Cael said and pointed to Carlos who has been staring at you two for a while now.

Cold sweats gush out of your body. The man you loved, the father of your child, the man you have been avoiding to see for the past five years is standing in flesh in front of you looking devilishly handsome. You can tell how confused he is right now and how you just want to run away with Cael any minute now.

Cael he does not look like your Papa. He is your Papa.

next part

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x you #afterfiveyears #cs55 #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr

1K notes · View notes

munsonsreputation · 3 months

Text

i can't talk to you when i'm like this

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.1K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)

summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.

You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.

Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.

He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.

“Why are you making it such a big deal?”

His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.

Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.

“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”

Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.

This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.

He knows he messed up.

It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.

It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.

You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.

Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.

“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.

The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.

The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.

“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”

The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’

All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.

He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.

Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.

“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.

There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.

No one gets it… but Steve does.

“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.

The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.

“I’m fine, Steve!”

Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.

He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.

“Baby,”

Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”

He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.

Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.

It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.

You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.

One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.

“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.

Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.

He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.

Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.

You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.

“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.

He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.

Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.

“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,

Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.

But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.

“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.

But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”

You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.

You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.

“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.

“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”

You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”

Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.

Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.

“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.

It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.

“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.

“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.

When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.

“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”

“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“

He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”

Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.

Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.

“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.

His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.

“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.

Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”

“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.

He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.

His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.

“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.

His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.

“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”

He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.

“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”

Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.

The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.

It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.

But Steve gives you everything and so much more.

A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.

When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.

He’s everything you could have asked for and more.

You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.

“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.

He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.

That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.

His love.

“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.

You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”

“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.

You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.

“I know, I love you too.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

1K notes · View notes

laenordeservedbetter · 4 months

Text

Why?

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)

Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.

This one-shot is based on this tweet.

A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.

not my gif. || masterlist

Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.

Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”

“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.

“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.

“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.

“Then why are they holding hands?”

“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.

Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.

Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.

Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”

You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.

You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.

Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.

“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.

She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.

You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.

“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.

Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”

Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”

Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #percy jackon and the olympians

1K notes · View notes

gyuwoncheol · 7 months

Text

Slowly; All At Once

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.

Summary: Kim Mingyu fell in love with you slowly, but you fell in love with him all at once.

Warnings: short hair Mingyu (yes this deserves a warning. He looks too good), rowdy house party setting, mentions of alcohol, angst (but not with Mingyu), mentions/allusions to a panic attack/sensory overload, kissing, fluff because mingyu is so sweet and protective 😩 Half proofread.

WC: 5k

Author's Note: listen, short hair Mingyu is SO boyfriend coded okay, it just does things to me.

“Gyu?” You spoke as loudly as you could.

“What’s up?” Your best friend answered through a yawn and you would’ve regretted disturbing him so late in the night but you really needed him now.

“Gyu, i’m so sorry..”

Mingyu sat up from his position in bed, the drowsiness in him suddenly gone at the sound of your voice trembling. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his senses heightened, suddenly now hearing the loud music in your background.

“Could.. if you’re free, c-could you come get me?”

Mingyu was already slipping his shirt on and turning off his tv right after you asked. “Where are you? Are you okay? Are you in danger?” He quizzed, rushing down the stairs to grab his car keys and the hoodie hanging off the hooks.

“I’m at Jamie’s house. So many people, I jus’ wan’go home,” you slurred, stumbling into a corner of the house party you were at.

You could hear the sound of his engine rumbling to a start and somehow, that made you breathe a little easier. That was the thing about your best friend, when you needed him, he would be there, any time, any day, no questions asked. “Ok hang tight. I’ll be there.”

The line went dead as you cowered a little more to the corner of the house party you were at. The more the crowd grew, the more out of place you felt. Sure, most faces were familiar to you as they were the same ones that walked around your school building but no one was really close enough to you. Jamie, herself, was nowhere to be found. You weren't a stranger to house parties, you actually enjoyed them but this one really made you feel like you didn't belong. The crowd was quite rowdy, noise was obnoxiously loud, people were shoving drinks to you left and right, frat boys— both those senior and junior to you— were hitting on you, and, well, the sight of your ex-boyfriend's tongue down your ex-roommate's throat just wasn't exactly what you expected to see tonight.

You wished you had stayed home instead or spent your Friday night with your best friend watching Shark Tank episodes and talking about all the inventions you both could make and would definitely get invested on. But no, you had begged off from Mingyu this one time, telling him that you wanted to let loose a little bit and hang with some of your girl friends.

The night started fine, you and the girls having cocktails after dinner at a bar nearby, until one of them had all but dragged you guys to the house party a common friend was throwing. What you didn't know was all their boyfriends had already been there, eventually leaving you alone as soon you all walked in the doors.

You wanted to get out of there but as you looked at the volume of people in front of you, you were sure you wouldn't be able to push through them without getting pushed around. You felt trapped, your breaths becoming shorter whilst you tried to calm your heart. You were in need of air and of water real bad.

"Hello?" you picked up your phone at first ring.

It was Mingyu. "Where are you?"

"I-i'm by the end of the hall towards the kitchen at the back."

Mingyu grimaced at the mixed smell of alcohol, cigarettes, sweat and weed in the place, not to mention the huge crowd that the party had gathered. He spotted numerous acquaintances and friends who all excitedly greeted him, offering him shots and beers but he ignored all of them, brain laser focused at finding you. It took him about five minutes before he reached the hall you were in and immediately spotted you thanks to his height which allowed him a “bird’s eye view.”

"Y/N," you felt a towering presence stumble in front of your crouched position, but was immediately comforted at the owner of the voice. It’s a really good thing you knew his voice well because you were still getting used to his new and much shorter haircut.

"Gyu!" You sighed in relief, hands immediately gripping his forearm as you steadied yourself against him. He kept a protective hand on your waist, caging you in between him and the corner to shield you from the crowd. He noticed the natural blush on your cheeks from the alcohol and the slightly far away look in your eyes. He could tell you weren’t exactly drunk, but he could also read the fear and sadness in them. He gave you a little bit more time to steady your breathing and comfort yourself in his presence, whispering "it's okay's" and "you're alright, I'm here."

"Gyu, I'm dizzy," you declared. You weren't drunk, just slightly tipsy at most, it was the stuffiness in the room that had you wanting air.

Mingyu glanced back at the amount of people in the hall, mentally mapping the fastest way out to the closest door, before turning back to you. "Y/n,” he cupped your cheek to guide your eyes to his, "We'll make our way out, okay? Hold on to me?" He laid out his large hand for you to take and you gripped it like a vice as you gave him a small nod.

There are many reasons to be thankful for Mingyu's height and build, and tonight, as he pushed through the crowds with one hand tightly intertwined with yours, was one of them. You were only but a few steps away from the door when your face collided with Mingyu's back. Someone had blocked his way and you were too slow to stop yourself when he did.

"heeey leaving so soon?!" A very familiar but very drunk voice slurred. It was Jung, your asshole of an ex-boyfriend. "You just got here,bro."

"Not here to party. Just—"

"Oh come on, Mingyu! At least take a shot!"

"Yeah!!" another party goer whom you recognize to be from the same frat as Jung cheered on, "In fact why don't you and y/n take a shot together!" Two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila were suddenly raised at you both. You made a face, hiding yourself behind your best friend’s broad back, hoping it would be enough to make you disappear.

"Y/n!" Jung sang-song in a way that had Mingyu gripping your hands even tighter, "Why don't you take a shot for me, baby? It's still too early to call it a—"

"Don't touch her." Mingyu growled at your ex who was attempting to bypass him and snake an arm around your waist, "Let’s go, y/n" Mingyu pulled at you, desperately hoping to just get the both of you out of there.

As you stumbled past your ex, you yelped when you felt his hand pull on your free wrist, almost yanking you away from Mingyu's hold. "Cmon, baby. Just one more shot. Like old times." A disgusting smirk was plastered on Jung's face, one you wanted to wipe off with a punch.

“I said. Don’t. Touch. Her.” Mingyu repeated louder and firmer this time, pulling your caught wrist and now purposely standing in full height to tower over your drunken ex.

“Gyu, let’s go,” you whisper, noticing that the exchange between both boys have suddenly gained the crowd’s attention.

“Oh come on Mingyu, it’s just a shot!” One of the other guys pushed.

With a roll of his eyes, Mingyu took the shot glass and downed the liquor easily. But it wasn’t until he took the second shot of tequila— supposedly yours— and poured it down his throat that the crowd erupted in cheers. “Happy?” Mingyu sneered at Jung, “now, let us go.”

“Still her savior, huh?” Your ex called out, making Mingyu freeze in his tracks as he tried to navigate through the crowd, “you still the best friend? Or are you finally the boyfriend now?”

You felt your breath get caught in your throat at what you just heard. But nothing could have prepared you for the next thing that tumbled out of your best friend’s mouth.

“So what if I was?” Mingyu looked back at your ex bitterly, eyes filled with anger, “At least I know I’d treat her right.”

You had no chance to see the sour, defeated face Jung sported, but the crowd’s ‘oooh’s’ were enough to let you know that Mingyu definitely had the last laugh in that exchange. Everyone had even made space for you both to successfully exit, not wanting to mess with the 6 foot 2 man.

Mingyu watched you carefully as you stabilized your breathing, the fresh air paired with the water he had just given you was slowly erasing the dizziness you felt earlier. He had his hands in his pockets while you looked up at him, your back leaning on his car, and a thick silence in the air. You wanted to say something, you wanted to say a lot of things actually, but didn’t know how to start.

“Here, put this on,” Mingyu said softly, grabbing his hoodie from the back seat and pulling it over your shivering frame since your dress did little to protect you from the cold. You hummed in satisfaction, the warmth of the cotton shielding your exposed skin and the smell of him grounding you even more.

“Thank you, Gyu. For saving me. And for taking that shot.” You squeaked, looking down at the ground, wanting to say many other things but it’s all you could put together for now.

Mingyu’s mind however, wandered some place else. Like how you were still so beautiful right now? Looking so tiny in his hoodie, cheeks flushed and your makeup a bit smeared. To him, you were still the prettiest thing his eyes had seen. God he just wanted to kiss you. If only you were in your right mind, no alcohol in your system and not reeling back from what could’ve been a panic attack. And maybe, if only it didn’t ruin the friendship.

‘I’d die for you,’ is what Mingyu would’ve wanted to say. “Hey, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it… as long as you’re okay. I mean… you are okay, right?”

He stood closely in front of you, watching intently as you tried to form words but your growing silence did nothing to quell his worries.

“Y/n,” your best friend’s voice firm, “did something happen back there? Are you hurt? You think your drink got spiked? Did someone harra—“

“No, no!” You confirmed, sensing the agitation in his voice, “nothing happened to me. Was just really overwhelmed with the crowd… the boys were annoying, the girls left me, and I… i didn’t even know Jung was dating Cass now.”

Ah, there it is, Mingyu thought. It always has something to do with your stupid ex.

“Cass? Your ex roommate, Cass?”

“Yeah.”

“Dating or not, they were definitely making out,” Mingyu could hear both the pain and disgust in your voice, “i just don’t get it.” Yeah, neither does Mingyu, why were you still so hung up on this—

“I’m over him, you know?”

“What?” Mingyu looked at you so quickly, he might’ve gotten a whiplash

“I’m over him.” You confirmed and Mingyu would be lying if he said he didn’t want to just jump in joy right there and then. But your face still looked sour, angry even, like you had just been forced to chew on a whole lemon. “I realise now I was such an idiot for even loving him. But Cass? Really? My ex-roommate? I don’t know.. I know we’ve broken up months ago but it just feels weird. She knew how much he hurt me.. she even wanted to, and I quote, ‘stab him in the gym,’ but now she’s practically dry humping him in the middle of the worst house party known to man?!” You frustrated, your voice reaching a higher pitch than you had expected only to fall down to a very quiet whisper, “i just… I can’t help but feel betrayed.”

Mingyu noticed a lone tear roll down your cheek, the back of your hand immediately wiping it away. He knew how close you were to Cass, he still remembers how you cried to him when she suddenly cut off communication with you and moved out of your apartment. For the longest time, you had thought you did something wrong and had beaten yourself up over it. But now it all just made sense.

Your best friend pulled you in for an embrace, mumbling about how you deserve better and how he’s sorry this happened to you.

“God,” you scoffed, “i’m sorry, i’m such a loser… everything about tonight just makes me feel so… alone.”

“Hey now!” Mingyu pulled back harshly, holding you firmly by the shoulders, an arms length distance between you both. “I take offense to that. I’m literally right here, you know.”

“Exactly. When you really could’ve been sleeping peacefully, or maybe even be on a date with some pretty girl. Instead you’re here, rescuing your pathetic excuse of a best friend.”

“Well.. you know what?” Mingyu challenged, pulling you in again into his arms for a warm hug, “there’s nowhere else i’d rather be. Now let’s get you home, yeah?” He assured instead, opening the door to the passenger seat of his car. You slumped into the seat and Mingyu went as far as strapping your seat belt for you, your lips just mere centimeters away from his. He stopped to look at you, eyes scanning yours before dropping to your lips momentarily and then back to your eyes again. You could feel the tension in the air and you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until he finally moved away and closed the door gently.

Mingyu couldn’t help but notice a few tears escaping you as you looked out the car window, lone tears slowly falling on your cheek. You couldn’t really shake the idea from your brain of your roommate and your ex getting together, the betrayal just squeezing your heart in pain. Maybe the alcohol also just heightened your sensitivity too. When the car stopped at a red light, a gentle squeeze on your left hand had you looking up to your best friend, soft eyes matching yours as he flashed you a lopsided smile. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. You knew his action was that of comfort, as if to tell you you weren’t alone.

Mingyu kept his hand tightly on yours throughout the ride, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand and that small action really helped keep the sad thoughts away. It wasn’t until you reached the exit of the freeway when you noticed Mingyu suddenly take a left turn.

“Where are we going?” You squeaked

“Mine,” Mingyu confirmed, “is that ok? I just don’t wanna leave you alone for now, and i don’t think the sight of Cass’s empty room is something you’re ready to see either.”

You pondered on his suggestion quickly and knew it made sense. If anything, your best friend’s comforting presence is exactly what you needed right now.

The moment you got to his place, everything was like clockwork. He let you shower and freshen up, then handed you one of his large shirts and one of your old shorts you kept at his place for sleepover nights like these.

A bottle of water was left by the bathroom door when you had finished. Drink this all before you go back down, Mingyu had written in a note and you cooed at the thoughtfulness of your best friend. As you got to changing, you couldn’t help but notice just how much comfort his place brought you. His bedroom— and the rest of the apartment— was littered with photos of the both of you through the years. Your favorite conditioner was in his bathroom. He had a little basket in his closet that had things for you— hair brush, your favorite makeup remover, a few of your skin care items (which he bought himself), some old clothes, and even sanitary pads. You smiled at the sight of the little disney nightlight he had bought especially for you last year because even though he liked his lights off when he sleeps, he knew you hated the dark. You knew he kept some of your favorite snacks in his pantry, and he always had a pint of your favorite ice cream in his freezer. You were grinning by the time you had thought of all these things. You were feeling way too giddy and and then it hit you, those are butterflies you feel in your stomach. You felt like a tidal wave just hit you, your brain suddenly replaying every encounter with Mingyu and the longer it went on, the more you felt your heart being squeezed. You’re reminded how he didn’t even hesitate to pick you up tonight, or take that shot for you, or how he might’ve just thrown a punch at Jung if he so much laid another finger on you. You remember the tension in the car when your lips were inches apart. Yup, definitely butterflies. You simultaneously cursed yourself for not seeing it sooner. For not feeling it sooner. Do best friends really go this far? Could Kim Mingyu be in love with you? Better yet, did you just fall in love with him? There’s no way. Right? Mingyu was simply a really nice guy, and he would be especially kind to you, his best friend, and you are just very, very appreciative of it.

Yeah, just best friends.

That’s all.

So why do you suddenly want it to be more?

Mingyu, on the other hand, was a ball of nerves in his living room. The events of tonight made him feel like he might not be able to hold back his feelings any longer. Seeing you tonight, your helpless self in such a huge crowd of people and then silently crying in the car just awakened something in him, like a very strong urge to protect you and embrace you in so much love that you won't ever remember the feeling of being hurt. He loves you very much, for quite some time now actually, and not just in the best friend kind anymore, he knows that much. But he can't quite figure out when it happened. There was no specific moment or grand gesture that made him think "i'm in love with my best friend." Your friendship certainly began platonic, no hidden intentions or attraction. It started when both your chaotic selves ended up paired for a group work in freshman year and you just haven't been separated since then. Over time, he's unconsciously made more space for you in his heart. What started as him giving you food every now and then so you could test his culinary experiments eventually turned into packed meals every Tuesdays and Thursdays when your classes stretched until 8 in the evening. He began omitting mustard in the dishes he cooks for you because of your allergy, even though he personally loves it. He once helped you do groceries and noticed you liked to buy your juices and milks in large cartons, and so he eventually scheduled his grocery days the same as yours so you wouldn't have to carry everything by yourself. You brought out the best in him. He witnessed your thoughtfulness and kindness and that made him want to be a better person for himself. One day, when he cracked a lame joke, he realised nothing sounds sweeter than your laugh. Mingyu always listened to you, even when you spoke nonsense most times. Your crazy ideas were something he questioned a lot before but now it's what makes him laugh the most. Kim Mingyu fell in love with you slowly, he never stopped himself from it because he's learned it was simply impossible. The joy you brought to his life was unexplainable. So he just let it happen, but he'd never tell you that, not when it could mean losing the single most important person in his life. But tonight, it seemed his heart was bursting at the seams and he wasn't so sure how long he could control his mouth from vomiting the words. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have you sleep over tonight.

"Gyu? you good?" you asked, sitting beside him and getting under the same throw he had placed over him. He looked so soft and cuddly in his dark gray sweatshirt he changed into. God, he looked every bit of boyfriend right now.

"Huh?"

"You were spaced out," you giggled

"Oh. Yeah, i'm ok, just waiting for you… Was the shower ok? Did you drink your water?"

You nodded and pointed to the empty water bottle you had placed on the coffee table in front of you, "I'm alright, Gyu. Tired but feeling much better." You punctuated your words with a small thank you and a kiss on his cheek and Mingyu tensed. The scent of your shampoo washed over him and even though it was only a few seconds, it's like he could still feel your lips on his cheek. You saw his eyes grow wide and his shoulders slightly square up but whatever it was, he chose to stay silent.

"okay!" he announced, trying to break the awkwardness he was feeling. "movie?"

"about that... could we... maybe talk first?"

An ice bucket might as well have been thrown on top of Mingyu's head, either that or have the ground open up to swallow him whole. He seriously might not keep his feelings at bay this time around. "uhhh... a-about what?"

"About what happened in the party."

"Oh," your best friend relaxed a little, "I thought you were fine? You said no one hurt you right? I mean, of course aside from seeing Cass and—"

"Gyu," you interrupted him with a hand on his forearm, turning to the side so you could face him, "I don't mean that."

"Then what?"

"About what you said to Jung," your voice barely above a whisper, "about being my boyfriend..."

At that very moment, the both of you paused, the same thought in your brains: will my heart actually start beating out my chest?

"Oh. What about it?" Mingyu played it off and you gulped hard, maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. You normally thought you could see right through your best friend, but this time, he seemed so nonchalant about it all and if you were being honest, it broke your heart a little.

The tanned boy waited for your answer, eyes holding a glint of fear as he watched you look at everything else in the room except his gaze, "I just... I don't know. You said if you were my boyfriend, then you'd be treating me right."

"I would." Mingyu responded a little too fast, making your eyes find his immediately. He cursed himself for the lack of self control, now literally biting his tongue to stop from spilling the rest of his feelings.

"Then am I crazy for thinking that... that all you've done tonight was treat me right?"

You watched your best friend swallow hard, eyes boring into your soul. You waited in bated breath for a response but Mingyu opened his mouth only to close it, and then open again. Mingyu steels himself, genuinely wanting to run away from the conversation. If he spoke any further, he just knows he'd lose his best friend and get his heart broken, so he chooses to point out the obvious instead. "Well, you are my best friend."

"is that all you want me to be?" There it goes. The million dollar question. It's now or never, Kim Mingyu, he hears the subconscious in his brain. He could feel the sweat on his back, his hands fidgeting under the throw. Mingyu was not fond of how straightforward you were being. It's like you were ready to catch him red-handed and then tell him to start acting like a bestfriend instead of some love-sick puppy, or worse, stay away from you altogether. This is it. The end of a friendship he so carefully protected even if it meant it will never be more.

"What do you mean?" He croaked, his throat feeling drier more than ever. Oh, if only Mingyu knew just how nervous you were too.

You closed your eyes shut, inhaling sharply to muster up some confidence as you carefully place your heart on your sleeve.

“Because I look at your place and your life, and though I see a lot of you in it, I see me too. Pictures of us, my favorite food always in your kitchen, my number in your speed dial. I think about the past and all that you've done for me, laughing at the stupid shapes I think the clouds are forming, listening to me vent about all my frustrations, holding me when i cry about a broken heart, you’re there. You're always where I am. And it might have taken me long to realize this, but maybe you do love me more than just your bestfriend. And I just I hope i'm not too late to tell you that when I think about all of it, it hits me like a truck that I'm in love with you too."

If Mingyu was deaf, then everything you just said is probably the one thing that would help him regain his hearing. Every single word was loud and clear, your last sentence obnoxiously ringing in his ears, yet all this six foot something man could reply was an awkward “huh?”

You blinked hard at his dumbfounded expression, the back of your eyes immediately stinging with tears. Your efforts of confessing dying together with your heart. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment, hands flying to cover your face because wow, you seriously just misread the whole thing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I- i must’ve misread. For—forget I said anything.” You mumbled, your voice shaking towards the end.

“No, no!” Mingyu panicked, his large hands prying yours away from your face and then cupping your cheeks, “i’m sorry. I love you. I heard you, loud and clear. And I love you, more than just a best friend. I’m so in love with you, have been for a while now.” He inched closer to you, the shyest smile on his face.

His eyes glanced at your lips before looking back at you again, asking softly, “Can I?”

With a small nod, he slotted his lips to yours and you immediately hummed in relief. Your eyes fluttering close with how gentle he was. His lips were slightly chapped but they were so pillowy against yours.

“I love you,” Mingyu mumbled in between a kiss, not being able to contain the smile that was breaking on his face. He swore he saw fireworks explode, his stomach churning in the best way possible.

“I love you too,” you responded as you broke apart for air. Both your eyes were twinkling, pure happiness just flowing through your veins.

He couldn’t quite believe it. Just moments ago, he was certain he’d end the night without a best friend. “Could you say that again?” He asked shyly, and if you weren’t just so whipped for the man, you wouldn’t have indulged him.

You climbed onto his lap, grinning as you placed your hands by the sides of his face. “I love you, Kim Mingyu. I’m so in love with you,” you obliged, peppering kisses on his cheeks and nose and lips.

Mingyu let out that tiny giggle he does when he’s really happy, the crinkles in his eyes appearing and his canines showing. “I love you,” you said one more time before properly latching onto his lips again. This time, your kiss was slightly deeper. He continued to mumble i love you’s to you in between before finally slipping his tongue into your mouth. Mingyu let out a low hum of sayisfaction when he felt you run your fingers through his short hair. His large hand stayed firm on the small of your back while the other was on your neck, making sure you couldn’t pull away too far or too fast, not that he should worry, the warmth of his body alone was already drawing you impossibly closer to him.

You rested your forehead on his when you broke apart the second time, matching grins on your faces as your eyes looked deeply at each other.

“You scared me, you know?” You scowled out of nowhere, your fist hitting his chest playfully.

“What?”

“I thought I really misread. Thought you didn’t actually love me.” The pout that appeared on your face was one Mingyu had seen before, but this time around, it pulled at his heartstrings even harder.

“Well I thought you saw right through me and didn’t want any of it. Thought you wanted to stop being best friends even.”

You raised a brow at him, tilting your head to the side slightly, “well now you’re not just my best friend, you’re also my boyfriend.”

The squeal that came out of Mingyu’s mouth was definitely one you wouldn’t expect from someone as large as him, but you loved it nonetheless, even though he paired it with a bone crushing hug that had your face uncomfortably smushed on his hard chest.

“G-gyu… c-can’t br-breathe.”

“Oh sorry,” he pulled back, still giggling from the thought of being called your boyfriend. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this happy before and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter even harder.

You felt soft lips on your forehead, another “I love you” rolling past Mingyu’s mouth.

You responded back with the same three words, allowing yourself to look into his eyes intently, marking this important moment in your brain. You’ve heard of best friends falling in love and then falling out of love, the friendship sinking together with it. You knew there was no certainty that you and Mingyu wouldn’t meet that same fate, and it scared you for sure. But there was something about being in your best friend-now-boyfriend’s arms that just felt right. Like you were home. And somehow, that was more than enough to take away all the fears. It took a while, but you’ve never been more sure of something than you are now of loving Mingyu.

“So… we’re really doing this?” Mingyu asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear. You looked beautiful with the light pink that dusted your cheeks and the deeper crimson on your slightly swollen lips.

“As long as it’s with you.”

#svt #seventeen #svthub #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #svt fic #seventeen fic #svt one shot #seventeen one shot #mingyu #mingyu fic #mingyu fluff #mingyu one shot #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu #paula writes ✨#Slowly; All At Once

2K notes · View notes

moremaybank · 26 days

Text

in between 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𐦍

pairing bestfriend!jj maybank x fem!reader

summary best friends since the first grade, it was only inevitable that you and jj would fall for each other. however, when a single night suddenly changes things between you, you’re both left wondering if you ever should’ve tried to cross the line at all. [11.8k]

warnings 18+, unprotected sex (sorry, but what else is new?), dry humping, oral (m. receiving), daddy kink, pet names (pretty girl, princess, etc.), dirty talk, body-shaming (not by jj), reader's parents being shitty, drunk jj causing a scene at a party, childhood best friends to lovers, a love confession, i think that's it???

author's note i really hope you guys like this one! kinda nervous bc i haven't posted a full fic in awhile, but i think i'm happy with it. ik it's long, but i think it's worth it! also, enjoy the logan huntzberger (gilmore girls) cameo LOL

in between universe | jj masterlist | playlist | kofi

Amid the raging storm outside, a series of frantic knocks on your front door echoed through your house. You rushed to the door, swinging it open to reveal a drenched and dishevelled JJ Maybank.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in panic, yanking him inside. Your hands quickly found his face, and then his shoulders as your eyes scanned his body for any signs of injury. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Hello to you, too,” he greeted, smiling down at you. He couldn’t deny the stroke his ego got, nor the fluttering in his stomach he felt when you worried for him. “I’m fine, by the way. Jus’ a tad cold.”

JJ hoped you’d take the hint and pull him into your arms — the place he always longed to be — but was caught off guard when your hand slapped his chest. “Hey!”

“What if you catch pneumonia?!”

“I’m fine, Y/N/N.”

“Fine? You could’ve gotten killed!”

“By what? The gentle breeze outside?” That earns him another slap. “Ow!”

“Don’t smart-mouth me, Maybank.”

“You love my smart mouth,” he teases, pinching your cheek playfully.

Once again, his hopes were wrong, because while he was praying for a glimpse of that smile that made his knees weak, your hand came flying at him for a third time. Luckily for him, he was quick, catching your wrist and pulling you to stand right in front of him.

“You’re gonna wanna be real careful about what you do next, princess.” Powerful blue eyes locked with yours and you knew that he’d won. “Gotta say, this is not the welcome I was expecting. Kinda hoped I’d get a kiss or somethin’.”

Your heart sang at his comment, but you remained focused on the outside, keeping your face straight.

“For what? Being an idiot?”

Then, he gave you the face.

Pouty, and adorable, and JJ, and just like he had planned, you started to fold.

You couldn’t stay mad at him if you tried.

Even if he helped.

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried. You aren’t invincible, you know.”

He visibly softened at your words, as if he wasn’t soft on you before, and he released your wrist. But he didn’t give your hand back to you. Instead, he kept it with him, mindlessly playing with your fingers so he wouldn’t have to give up the physical contact.

“C’mon. You really think I’m gonna let anythin’ stop me from annoying you for the rest of your life? Not a chance, baby.”

Baby. Uh oh. Your resolve was beginning to waver.

“‘N the reason I came is ‘cause I didn’t want my pretty girl alone in this mess,” he murmured, and you detected some shyness in his voice. “Besides, when have we ever spent a storm night apart?”

Aaand it was gone.

Vanished.

He always knew how to get you. Then again, you always let him.

You tilted your head, fighting a smile and losing miserably when it broke free. “Alright. I guess you’re sweet. Even if you’re an idiot.”

“There’s my girl,” he grinned. “Now gimme a hug. I’m cold.” He tried to reach out for you, but you backed away, putting more distance between you two.

“No way, you’re soaked,” you laughed, now extremely grateful for the cozy pjs you were sporting.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re really not gonna hug me?” He picked up an old-timey accent when he spoke next, “I ventured through the brave storm to see you, m’lady. The least you could do is offer me a warm embrace.”

He was so animated with it that it was damn near impossible not to giggle. “My sincerest apologies, sir. You seem to be out of luck.”

“Alright, that’s it.”

Before you knew it, JJ lunged at you. You let out a squeal, running as fast as you could with your socks slipping against the marble tiles.

It took a little bit of time, and you’d covered a lot of area in the house by the time he finally captured you. Strong, brawny arms wrapped around your frame and picked you up right off the ground. He spun you around in the air a few times, relishing in the sun-soaked laughter that escaped you before putting you down.

You turned around in his grip, looking incredibly earnest when your hands came to rest on his arms. “Thanks for coming to save me. Not that I needed it.”

He smiled warmly at your statement. “I’ll always come ‘n save you,” he said, capturing your chin between his fingers. His thumb stroked over your chin softly. “You’re my Y/N/N. Nothin’s more important than you.”

You found yourself stuck in an intense stare with him yet again, your heart thumping loudly at his sincerity and gooey sweetness.

“Come on. You need to shower before you get sick.”

You grabbed his hand, but he came willingly with a lovestruck look you couldn’t see.

“Yes, ma'am.”

—

After shoving JJ into the shower and practically pouring a hot cup of tea down his throat to ensure he was warm from the inside out, the two of you found solace in your cozy and — in JJ’s words — kooky bed with your backs against the pillows and headboard.

“Make fun all you want but you and I both know I have to drag you out of here kicking ‘n screaming every time you sleepover.”

“…Shut up.”

Despite his words, JJ huddled closer to you under the plush covers. The wind howled outside, alongside the occasional rumble of thunder. If it weren’t for the light casting around the room from your TV, and the entirely hilarious sitcom How I Met Your Mother playing in the background, the ambience would’ve made the room feel eerie.

“So,” JJ began, breaking the silence, “you heard from your parents lately? Thought they were supposed to come back this week?”

Ah, yes. Your parents.

From a young age, you’d learned not to expect much from the people who had brought you into the world.

The minute they realized they could, they’d handed you off to a nanny and threw themselves back into the lives they’d lived before you had arrived. Your mom went heavy on the scotch and retail therapy, and your dad had re-immersed himself in his work. When he wasn’t doing that, he was squandering his free time away at the country club, playing golf and consuming copious amounts of alcohol alongside your mother.

Anything to get out of the house, and, evidently, away from you.

The older you grew, the less you saw of them as they travelled the world for business. By the time you were fifteen, you’d pretty much been living in that enormous mansion all by yourself for ten months out of the year.

Sometimes, even more.

Not that you’d ever voice your complaints to them. You knew they wouldn’t hear you. They’d simply spew out something along the lines of ‘Sweetheart, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life. if you had, you’d understand that we can’t be there for every silly little dance recital or graduation.’

And yes, that included your high school graduation.

When they did spend time with you, that time would be filled with snarky comments about your appearance and about your sympathy for the pogues. Nothing about you ever seemed to satisfy them.

But somehow, amid the loneliness and abandonment you’d been able to comprehend from far too young of an age, you’d found and held onto the one person who made it all melt away.

JJ.

It was the first day of second grade, and all the children in your class were colouring. All of them except for the little blonde boy who sat across the room, by himself, with a blank sheet of paper in front of him, but nothing to colour with. You were only six at the time, but you could sense that he was alone too. And your heart hurt for him because it hurt the same way for you.

So, you got up from your seat, grabbed your paper and your sixty-four pack of crayons (the pack that every child dreamt of having) and trotted off to his table. You perched yourself in the chair beside his and offered to share your crayons with him.

At first, he just stared at you. You thought that maybe he didn’t want you there, but then, you saw the tiniest glimpse of his dimple when he gave you a small smile, nodding.

“Thanks.”

And now, a decade and a half later, you were just as inseparable as you had been since that very first day.

Your house was now considered a home, had been since the moment JJ first stepped onto the marble flooring with his boyishly muddy shoes. He filled the aching silence with laughter and excitement and finally, finally, some cherishable memories.

Like how he’d helped you climb your first tree, and carried you on his back into your house after you’d scraped your knee while doing so. Camping in your backyard and sprinting inside once non-forecasted rain came pouring down on your flimsy little kiddy tent. He’d accidentally stolen your first kiss (and he’d never admit it, but he was and still is overjoyed to have done so). Movie nights where he’d let you pick the film and sit happily while you pushed his hair back and applied a face mask to his tanned skin.

Anything you wished for, JJ would give it to you without a second thought. Any time you needed him, he’d drop everything to run over to you. He was loyal, sweet, hilarious, thoughtful, and though he was good at hiding it from the light, his heart was pure gold.

But what had mattered most to you was that in a world where everyone close to you had chosen to leave, he was the one who had stayed.

Without him, there was noise.

With him? Quiet.

Peaceful, and calm, and quiet.

No one turned your world like him. And that made it that much more inevitable to fall for him.

The feeling of JJ’s finger tapping against your temple broke you out of your daze. “Hey. You in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied. “My mom called me a couple days ago to tell me they cancelled their flight. They’re coming back on Monday instead.”

“So, basically, what I’m hearin’ is that they just didn’t wanna be stuck in the house with you all weekend.”

“Precisely.”

You mocked your mother’s voice when you spoke next. “You know I can only take that sorry little island in small doses. Besides, if we come home now, we’ll be holed up in the house during that storm. Why on earth would I trade my penthouse view for that?”

JJ gave you a sad look, obviously upset for you. It wasn’t like he expected much from them either, but he knew that deep down, even if you refused to admit it, it stung.

They really couldn’t spend one weekend with you? Being with their daughter is that much of a hardship for them?

“Stop. It’s fine.” And you meant it. These kinds of stunts were nothing new to you. You didn’t think they were gonna race home to you to make sure you were okay. A quick text would suit them just as well.

“Don’t do that,” he stopped you. “You’re allowed to be upset. Your parents are assholes.”

Assholes that were so far past unaware of the remarkable person they’d given life to. It shook him to his core, the realization that someone so beautiful both inside and out had come from two cold and selfish people.

But if they would never appreciate you, who cared, because JJ knew he always would.

He’d never let a single moment pass without telling you how special you were. How much you’d helped him, given him a safe haven and shoulder to cry on when he needed it.

Given him peace.

And, if he ever worked up the damn courage…he’d spend every minute of the rest of his life telling you how much he loved you.

You just shrugged in response. “It is what it is. I’m luckier than most.”

He frowned at that. It’d always hurt him to watch you belittle your problems just because you were better off financially. It was almost as if you were numb.

“Well, at least they’ll be here for your birthday. That’s somethin’.”

“Nah, they’re flying back to New York on Friday.”

“Are you serious?” He asked, sitting up straight now. “They couldn’t wait one day?”

“You know how they feel about birthdays, J.”

That was true. JJ had heard them give you the ‘Why should you be rewarded for being born? That isn’t an achievement,’ talk countless times over the years. They’d just stick a wad of cash into your nanny’s hand and tell her to take you out to the mall as if their missing your birthday would be fixed with a shopping spree.

As if it would erase the resentment you knew they felt toward you.

“That doesn’t make it right,” he said, growing frustrated. “Y/N/N, it, like, sickens me to keep watchin’ ‘em treat you like this. You gotta say something.”

“Like what, J? They’d never listen. Just drop it.”

He deflated a bit, leaning back into his original position. “Look, ‘m sorry, okay? I just…I don’t get it. You’re amazin’, you’re— you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know how they don’t feel the same.”

Damn it. There he went again, making it impossible for you to be in a sour mood.

Gingerly, you turned to him, sitting with your legs criss-crossed. “You’re the only one keeping me going, y’know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He sat up once more and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against the apple of it as he looked deep into your eyes. It felt like he was staring into your soul.

“I promise you’ll never have to find out.” He looked down then, biting his lip slightly before meeting your gaze again. “I put that on my life.”

The rest of the world faded away while the two of you stayed in that moment, frozen in time as if you were a scene captured in a snow globe.

It was times like these when you felt yourself start to believe the things Kie was always telling you.

“I’m just saying, like, how do you not see it?”

She’d been up your ass ever since the boys had split up from you two and left The Wreck. Kie was working at the counter, filling up drinks and cashing out takeout orders.

Oh, and pestering you about JJ’s so-called affections for you.

“Maybe because I’ve known him since we were six and I know what it looks like when he flirts with other girls,” you remarked.

“Okay, but, like, you’re not just some random girl to him. You’re you.”

You made a face. “I don’t even know what that means.”

The groan that emitted from her lips was loud enough to catch the attention of countless customers, but she didn’t seem to care.

“You’re impossible,” she said, placing the lids on three soft drinks. “I’ve known JJ almost as long as you have, and in that time, one thing about him has always been crystal-fucking-clear. He’s in love with you. Always has been, always will be.”

“Whatever you say,” you hummed in response, taking a sip of your Coke and pushing away the warm, fuzzy feeling floating through you at the thought of her words being true.

Meanwhile, JJ was struggling not to act on his desires.

It was the perfect moment.

You were quite literally in his hands — or hand, rather — looking as beautiful as ever. He could kiss you. Right now. Plant one on you, a real kiss, unlike that accidental peck he shared with you at the age of twelve. He’d truly get to taste you this time around and silently convey all his love for you.

And then, fate helped him out.

The lights flickered and cut out in time with a rumble of thunder, leaving the two of you in complete darkness.

JJ took it as a sign.

He leaned forward, and his lips connected with yours. It was soft, tentative at first to see if you’d back off or push him away. To his surprise, your hand snaked up his front, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer. He took that as permission and kissed you deeper, his tongue stroking against yours in a dizzying fashion. The action made you moan into his mouth, and he pocketed the sound in his mind, saving it for later when he was alone and was thinking about you.

And not in an innocent way.

JJ’s hands found your waist, sliding down to your hips before tugging you closer. You took his invitation and clambered your way onto his lap, your lips never leaving his.

God, kissing him felt good. Too good. It was nothing like you’d ever imagined. No, it was better. He kissed you like he’d stop breathing if he didn’t. Like the world would burst into flames and end right then and there if he let go of you.

You didn’t know what was happening, and frankly, in fear of the truth, you had no plans of asking him. If this was the only way you could ever have him, you’d take it without a second thought, consequences be damned.

You were sure that your decision was nowhere near wise, but there was simply no time for wisdom.

JJ, your JJ, was kissing you. Kissing you and touching you and giving himself over to you, even if it was only for one night.

And if doing this was wrong, for once in your life, you didn’t want to be right.

JJ’s hands pulled at the hem of your shirt, and you broke the kiss to let him strip you of it. He tossed it carelessly while his eyes landed on your bare tits.

“Christ,” he whispered, his hands coming up to cup them both. “These are fuckin’ perfect.”

His thumbs brushed over your nipples and you shivered. “J.”

“Shh. I gotchu, baby. Relax for me, yeah? Let me take my time?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “But can you take your shirt off? Wanna see you too.”

He smiled. You were so damn sweet, it would nearly give him a toothache. “Yeah, pretty girl. I can do that.”

JJ shrugged off his beat-up Heyward’s tee, discarding it on the floor. You ogled at him, at least ninety percent sure that huge red cartoon hearts were projecting from your eyes.

“You’re droolin’ a bit, there,” JJ teased, thumbing at your lip.

Heat crept up into your face at his comment. “Shut up.”

On the inside, he loved the way you were looking at him. You handled him delicately, hands cradling his face as if he were an intricate piece of artwork that you wanted to study and commit to memory.

Every line, every slope, every curve.

Every last stunning piece of him.

“You’re so beautiful, J.”

JJ had been loved by you since elementary school. Sure, it was in a best friend's way, but being loved by you had changed his world. Now, with the way you were looking at him, the way you were speaking to him, the way you were touching him…he couldn’t help but imagine that this was what it’d be like to really be with you.

He turned bashful, his heart still fluttering at your words. “‘M supposed to be sayin’ that to you. Look at you.”

“Stop that,” you said, looking him right in the eyes. “You deserve to be loved on. Let yourself have this. Let yourself feel loved, J.”

Those words echoed in his mind. JJ never felt like he deserved anything good, so he always pushed those opportunities away. Ruined them and made them inaccessible. But with you in his arms, pleading with him to let you show him that he was worthy, he started to believe that maybe he did deserve something positive.

And if it were coming from you? Well, he’d take it without question.

He surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He wanted to kiss you until his lips were sore, and even then, he wouldn’t stop.

With greedy hands, the both of you touched every sliver of skin you could find, your lips never leaving the others for a second. Your hands found their way to JJ’s unruly golden locks, fingers carding through them so you could tug on them a little. A deep rumble of satisfaction came from JJ’s throat, and the noise had been so heavenly that your hips started to roll against his on their own accord.

The friction was toe-curling, so addicting that you couldn’t stop rutting against him even if you wanted to. He was hard as a rock, and big. So big. You didn’t even need him to get naked to know you were right.

“F-Fuck,” JJ stammered against your lips, though his hands didn’t stop helping your hips move. “Keep goin’ ‘n I’ll cum before I’m even inside you.”

“But you feel so good,” you whined. Your brows were pulled together and your jaw was slack, the stimulation already getting you close. “Oh my god.”

“Baby—”

“Please, J. I need it. Don’t make me stop. P-Please don’t make me stop.”

You were right on the edge, and all JJ could focus on were your pretty pleas and the desperation written all over your face. He wanted to watch you explode, wanted to watch you go slack as the pleasure rolled through you. Wanted to hear what you sounded like when you came for him.

So he encouraged you.

“Go ‘head, pretty girl. Make a mess. Get yourself nice ‘n wet for me.” His lips found your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin to leave his mark. He felt you cling to him as your actions sped up, his cock throbbing as he tried to fight off his high. It almost took everything in him not to give in. “Good girl. You got it.”

You came loudly, chest heaving up and down as your body twitched and went through the motions of your release. You felt JJ leave more wet kisses across your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing, your hand playing with his hair carelessly.

“That might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, baby,” he spoke, his hands rubbing up and down your sides. Goosebumps formed underneath his fingertips, and he couldn’t help himself from realizing how responsive your body was for him.

It’d never been like this with anyone else. No one could compare to you. He didn’t even have to sink into you for confirmation.

He was fucking done for.

JJ never thought his complete and utter devotion to you could ever run deeper in his veins, but here you were, proving him wrong.

He was more than fine with that.

“Fuck me, J. Need you inside me,” you said, hands running over the planes of his chest. Your lip was caught between your teeth, and JJ could tell that you were feeling shy.

“How could I ever deny you when you’re askin’ me so nicely, huh?” He thumbed at your bottom lip, trying to break it free so he could kiss you again. He did, giving you a deep kiss bubbling over the top with affection. “How do you want it?”

“Wanna ride you. Can I?”

Fuck.

“You can have whatever you want, princess.”

You grinned, your hands running down the path of his front before finding the button of his pants with ease. You popped it open, unzipping them and tugging his boxers down. His cock sprang out, beautiful and pink and curved. The bead of pre-cum caught your eye, and your mouth watered instantly, dying to know what he tasted like. You dipped your head down, your tongue sticking out and swirling around his tip gently as you coated your tastebuds with him. You were about to dive in for seconds when JJ stopped you.

“Please don’t, baby. I won’t last.”

You pouted. “But I wanna suck you off. Don’t you wanna fuck my throat?”

Christ. Those sinful words sounded nothing but heavenly, and it was hard to resist you.

“Promise you can later. But right now,” he paused, hands grabbing you and pulling you to straddle his lap again, “I need to feel that pretty pussy.”

“Yes, daddy.”

JJ threw his head back with a groan. “You’re really tryna kill me, aren’t you?”

You simply giggled in response, before circling your hand around his cock. You slid his tip through your folds, from your creamy slit to your clit — and the whimper you let out when you rubbed it over your bundle of nerves almost sent JJ into shock — then back down to your hole again. You started to sink down on him, letting out a hiss when he stretched you wide. Once his tip was inside, JJ swore he started to drool. He was barely inside you and yet your hot, wet walls felt like ecstasy.

When you sank down all the way, JJ let out a tortured, “Fuckin’ soaked, fuck.” Your walls fluttered subconsciously, and he groaned. “Move for me before I bust. Please.”

“No cumming yet, J,” you tutted, slowly beginning to bounce on him and giving in to his wishes. He was so big, it was a miracle that you could fit him completely. The intrusion had you feeling so full, but he was hitting every square inch of your cunt and you were on cloud nine. You picked up a good rhythm, earning praise from JJ as you did so.

“There ya go, baby. Thaaat’s it,” he rasped, leaning back against the headboard to watch you work. His hands cupped your tits as they bounced, feeling your pert nipples rubbing against his palms. “Fuck. Me. Shit.”

His favourite girl, the star of every single fantasy he’s ever had, was beautifully bare and in his lap, riding the fuck out of his cock. He denied the urge to shut his eyes, no matter how euphoric he felt, ‘cause he didn’t want to miss a single second.

Lost in the pleasure, your hands migrated from his built shoulders to his chest, and you clawed at him. He hissed but ultimately enjoyed the stinging feeling pricking at his skin.

You could tell because, within a millisecond, his broad arms had enveloped your entire frame and started bucking his hips upward and taking control.

You gasped his name in shock, your own arms instinctively wrapping around him to hold on for dear life.

“Shh, baby. Let me do the work. You just keep takin’ this cock like a good girl for me, ‘kay?”

Oh, that mouth. That perfect, filthy mouth. You could’ve died right there if he let you.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah, who? What’s my name in here, angel?”

“D-Daddy.”

And the cheeky fucker smirked. “Damn fuckin’ straight.”

He flipped you onto your back, your bare skin hitting the thick comforter. His hands curled around the backs of your knees as he kept you spread wide open for him. His eyes couldn’t help but drift to where you two were connected, watching you swallow his cock whole.

“Such a good fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “Jus’ keeps gettin’ wetter ‘n tighter f’me.”

“Yes. Yes. All for you, Daddy. S’all for you,” you called out when he started to fuck you harder. He was animalistic with it, the lust and need for you going into overdrive. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.

Your excitement only grew when JJ leaned forward, his deliciously carved frame hovering above yours. Thick arms caged you in, and large palms held your head up. His forehead leaned against yours, blue eyes holding yours captive in a hypnotizing fashion.

“Eyes on me, baby. Want your eyes on me when you cum.”

He knew you were getting there, your cries only increasing in volume as your pussy coated him completely in your slick. Your walls were contracting, tightening around him and threatening to take his breath away.

He also knew that his words would go a long way right now, judging by the way you’d been reacting to them thus far.

“Tired, aren’t you, baby? Tired of carrying all that weight on your shoulders?” He asked, his breath fanning over your lips as he panted. He littered soft pecks across your cheek when you nodded, an intoxicating juxtaposition from the savoury and harsh pounding he was giving you. “Yeah, I know, babygirl. Always workin’ so damn hard tryna take care of all of us. Jus’ need someone to take care a’you for a change, yeah? Need Daddy to do all the work ‘n make y’feel good? That right?”

Don’t get him wrong. JJ was a feminist. You’d raised him right. But he always had the crippling need to do whatever he could to make your days lighter, make your life easier.

And now, apparently, that included fucking the stress out of you until you couldn’t even remember what had caused it in the first place.

He let out a breathy and proud chuckle when your walls started to clamp down harder on him. He had you right where he wanted you; clinging onto him like a koala and keeping his skin pressed to yours, crying from his gifted hip work, and teetering on the peak of your orgasm.

“C-Close, J. So close,” you gasped out, chest heaving drastically.

“Let go, baby. Let it all go for me, yeah?”

One of JJ’s hands snaked down to rub your clit in tight circles, and he watched flames ignite in your eyes at the added stimulation. The wind was knocked out of your lungs when the band deep in your core finally snapped.

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he encouraged, continuing to fuck you through your high. His was creeping up on him, and he selfishly started to go harder, faster. “‘M gonna cum. Where d’ya want it, baby? Your tits? Stomach?”

“M-My mouth. Promised you’d fuck it, remember?”

He grinned maniacally. The mere thought of fucking his cum down your throat, hearing your gags and watching more of those pretty tears stain your cheeks…nothing sounded better.

“I never break my promises with you, angel. Y’know that.” He pulled out from you, lifting you into a seated position so he could reach your mouth. You struggled to keep yourself upright, clinging onto JJ’s thighs. You looked up at him, teary-eyed with your tongue out and waiting. “Could fuckin’ cum just from the way you look right now, swear to God.”

He smacked his length against your hot tongue a few times before sliding in all the way. A shiver rippled through him in delight. “Fuckin’ hell. Where’s this mouth been all my life?”

He throbbed wildly, twitching when your tongue slithered against the thick vein of his underside. It didn’t take long for him to start thrusting into your mouth, starting off slow but speeding up as his greed skyrocketed. His hands thread through your hair, holding your head in place. Spit was pooling out around him and down your chin, countless tears were escaping from your eyes. Your hair was a mess. But you’d never looked more gorgeous.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations and little jolts through his entire body when he announced to you that he was close. You released your grip on one of his thighs, cupping and massaging his balls. He fucked deeper and deeper into your throat and soon, you watched him fall over the edge. A string of groans and curses fell from his lips, and he sounded better than anything you’d ever heard.

Your favourite song of all time was now dethroned by the pornographic sounds emitting from the gorgeous and hypnotizing man in front of you.

When he withdrew from your mouth and finally caught his breath, all he could do was beam down at you. His fingers scooped up the string of cum that clung to your lips and stuffed themselves into your mouth. You licked every last drop up and savoured it.

Savoured him.

“‘N just when I thought you couldn’t drive me any crazier.”

—

The world was different when JJ woke up.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and noticed the sun was shining, a nice contrast to the horrible weather from the previous night. He could hear birds chirping and the light breeze of wind flowing against the trees. But what was most different was the fact that you were curled up in his arms, smooth, bare skin pressed against his as you slept. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t cuddled before, but after last night’s escapades, the action just felt so much more intimate. He felt the smile growing on his face as the memories played in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten to kiss you, let alone partake in any of the other activities you two did.

JJ looked down at you, his precious girl, watching your chest heave as you tried to regulate your breathing. You were glowing, your hair a little messy, but it made his heart skip a beat when he thought about how it’d gotten to that point. The ghost of a smile played on your lips while you watched him in wonder.

JJ leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and closing his eyes as he did so. “Stay here. Gonna grab a towel so I can clean you up.”

He started to move, but your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged. “Don’t go. Can you just…lay with me for a bit?”

The combination of your sulky doe eyes and still kiss-swollen, pouted lips was all too much. He could never say no to you, but at that moment? You’d never looked more vulnerable, and he just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and shield you from anything that would make you look as sad as you did right now.

“Yeah, pretty girl,” he assured you, getting situated under the covers and opening his arms wide for you. “C’mere. Not goin’ anywhere.”

You smiled with a shy nod, instantly slotting yourself into his arms and resting your head on his chest. You nuzzled your cheek against his bare skin, closing your eyes as you let his presence envelope you.

“You promise?” You asked quietly. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness when his fingers danced up and down your back.

“I promise,” JJ said. His head came to lean atop yours, his cheek smushed against your hair. “Couldn’t leave you if I tried, princess.”

You started to shift in his hold, a small groan escaping your lips.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he greeted, sweeping some baby hairs away from your face. How you managed to look so effortlessly beautiful all the time was beyond him. Not that he was complaining. “You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, unable to stop your lips from curling upward. “You?”

“Slept great.”

You peered up at him, and he was already looking down at you. The minute your eyes met, it was just as last night when the rest of the world went quiet. It was just you and your favourite boy, stuck in a bubble where for once, everything felt right. Where you and JJ felt so happy, that nothing could put a damper on things.

Until your bedroom door swung open, revealing your mother. Once her eyes landed on a shirtless JJ beside you, steam was coming out of her ears.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

You sat up and held the sheets to your chest, keeping yourself covered up. “Mom, close the door!”

“Get up, get dressed, and get that pogue out of my house.”

“Always a pleasure, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

She glared at him and slammed the door shut. You didn’t dare to look at JJ, completely mortified and ashamed of her behaviour. JJ sat up then, watching your teeth sink into your bottom lip the way they always did when you were deep in thought or stressed out. Without a second thought, he reached over, thumbing at your lip until it broke free from your teeth.

“Stop that. Any harder ‘n you’ll bleed, babe.”

You gave him the tiniest glimpse of a smile. “Sorry.”

You got up before he could respond, wrapping one of your sheets around your body and making your way to your bedroom door so you could lock it. Behind you, JJ also got up, slipping on his clothes before walking over to where you stood.

“Hey,” he spoke, nudging your chin upward with his hooked index finger. “You okay?”

You nodded, slowly looking at him. “I’m just sorry about her.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, alright? I don’t care about her, I just wanna make sure you’re good.”

You nodded again wordlessly. It didn’t put JJ at ease.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” he told you. “Jus’ say the word ‘n I’ll stay.”

You wanted to grab him and hold onto him for dear life. He was so sweet, too sweet for his own good. He always thought of you first, put you above everything else. It was nice, having someone do that for you for a change, but you couldn’t be selfish with him. So, you shook your head, looking downward and grabbing both of his hands. Your thumbs swiped over his knuckles as you mustered up the courage to let him go, knowing it was for the better.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

It was clear JJ didn’t believe you, but he knew better than to push you when it came to your parents. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He stayed right where he was for a moment. He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave you to deal with the wrath of your mother alone. But he remembered the promise he’d made to himself; that he’d always do what you wished of him.

He looked down at your joined hands, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. His gaze flitted back up to yours, and he nodded hesitantly. Breaking free from your grasp, he gathered his belongings. He walked over to you again, his hand cradling your face. Tilting your head down slightly, he kissed your forehead in goodbye.

“I’ll come by ‘n see you later, alright?”

“Okay,” you said.

He nodded, letting go of you slowly and walking the few footsteps to your door. But then, he turned around, his hand pausing on the doorknob. “Y/N/N?” His chest fluttered nervously, and he took a deep breath. “There’s, uh, somethin’ I wanna tell you. Somethin’ I needa tell you.”

You watched him intently, and a sense of anticipation bubbled in your stomach. “What is it, J?”

You grasped his hand gently, and his mouth went dry. You were in such a vulnerable place with your parents showing up out of the blue, and that was not how he wanted things to be when he told you he loved you for the first time.

“Y’know what? It’s nothin’. Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.”

With that, he exited your bedroom, leaving both you and himself with heavy hearts.

—

“Well, well. Look who’s finally decent,” your mother commented when you entered the kitchen fully dressed.

You chose to ignore her comment. “What are you doing here, Mom? I thought the ferry wasn’t running.”

“We took the jet and flew to the airstrip. Honestly, Y/N, it’s a miracle you can brush your teeth in the morning.”

You held back your impending eye-roll.

“Is your little friend gone?”

“Yes, Mom. JJ’s gone.”

And you’d never needed him more.

“Good. I knew that boy made you act like a child but I never thought that you’d throw everything we’ve given you away for someone with no potential and a criminal record.”

And there it was.

Any time your parents even thought they caught a glimpse of your blonde best friend, they were quick to pick out all his ‘flaws.’ Right off the bat, even as a child, they’d never respected him due to his pogue status. As if it were his fault, like he’d chosen his life himself. As if he’d chosen to be stuck with a father who’d never shown him love a day in his life.

As if they had room to talk.

Because the truth of the matter was, everything parents were supposed to do for their children — support them, comfort them, make them believe that they could be any and everything they wanted to be — wasn’t done by your parents.

They were done by JJ.

If you hadn’t had JJ, you wouldn’t have known what unconditional love was.

He was the one who reminded you that you could conquer the world. He’d held you through lonely nights, patched up your cuts and bruises when you were clumsy, helped you study (though he didn’t even study himself), and never failed to remind you that you were adored by him.

So, when your mother dared to speak on JJ as if she had ever really tried to know him, it boiled your blood. “Where do you get off talking about him like that? He’s done more for me than you and Dad ever have.”

The fire in your tone made your mother get up from her seat at the table immediately. She downed the contents of her glass — presumably scotch — and nearly slammed the glass on the table.

“Is that so?” She scoffed. Steam practically shot out of your ears when she looked at you. “So he put you up in this house? He paid for all your foolish little dance lessons and bought you that Benz sitting in the driveway?”

“That’s not what I—”

“I don’t care what you meant. You paint us out to be the villains in your life when we’ve done nothing but support you and give you everything you’ve ever dared to wish for.”

“Support me?!Areyou delusional? When have you two ever supported me?”

Financially? Yes. Emotionally? Mentally? Likely story.

“Don’t start. I’m simply speaking the truth. Now, tomorrow night, I expect you to stop acting like a spoiled brat and drop the attitude.”

Your brows furrowed. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Last night, your father and I were at dinner with some colleagues, discussing the horrible storm and what it’s done to the southside of the island. They said they’d love to help support the people down there, and so your father came up with the brilliant idea to throw a benefit for The Cut.”

Your parents wanted to help the pogues of the island? Were you dreaming?

“It’s wonderful publicity for our company. We’ve been looking for an opportunity like this for weeks.”

Nevermind. You were wide awake.

“That being said, your father and I have informed the Huntzbergers that their son would be your date. You remember Logan, don’t you? He asked for you. I can’t fathom why, but what does it matter?”

You’d met Logan many times over the years, the two of you being dragged by your parents to banquets, dinners, golf games, and so on. He was sweet, with a good sense of humour and a very handsome face if you were being honest. You’d always had the suspicion that he liked you, but obviously, those feelings had never been reciprocated. Not when a certain blonde troublemaker had plucked your heart right out of your chest and never given it back.

A true kleptomaniac.

“Mom, I can’t be Logan’s date.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me this is because of the Maybank boy.” Your silence and shifty look were enough to answer her. “Oh, honey. You don’t think that the two of you are together now, do you? He got what he wanted from you. You’ll never be anything more than an easy lay to him.”

Though the morning had been tumultuous at best, your mind hadn’t even gone there. Not once. In fact, it’d been the opposite. You weren’t foolish enough to believe that JJ would profess his undying love for you, but you certainly didn’t think he’d up and leave now that he’d been with you.

Would he?

As the thoughts consumed you, you were once again reminded that every time you’d found an ounce of happiness, your parents were always quick to rip it from your grasp and stomp on it for good measure.

“So, back to what I was saying. Please do not embarrass us. Wear something slimming.” She moved closer to you, tapping your hip. “You’re looking a little wide. Let’s hope you aren’t pregnant with the poor pogue’s child.”

Without looking back, she exited the room, leaving you alone to chew on her words in the oh-so-familiar silence.

—

JJ spent his entire shift at the auto shop convincing himself that tonight would be the night he finally fessed up. It’d always been so difficult for him; pushing his feelings for you so deep inside and ensuring that they’d never escape, but something had changed. Maybe it had been the events that had taken place the night before, or maybe it was the utter disappointment he’d felt in himself all day long after not confessing earlier on.

He hopped in his truck, swinging down to the pier so he could grab a bouquet from your favourite flower cart. He might not have been a renowned romantic, but his girl was special, and she deserved to be treated as such. Though he stayed there for a while, scratching the back of his neck with a stressed look on his face, he eventually settled on a carefully wrapped set that he thought you’d like.

A mixture of anticipation, nerves and excitement bubbled in his system. He hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for failure. But with the way you looked at him yesterday, shimmering stars in your eyes and the most gorgeous yet shy smile playing on your lips, it was hard not to let himself begin to trust the impossible.

Maybe his dreams were within his reach after all.

He let himself inside your house, skillfully sneaking past your parents (who were busy in planning mode) and making his way up to your empty room. He could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom and could see dozens of dresses littered across the floor accompanied by a few pairs of shoes. Half of him wondered if there’d been a tornado that only hit your closet.

He was aching to get a glimpse of the girl who had spent the day taking up every one of his thoughts. Seeing you and being with you felt like home. A home someone would have to pry from his cold, dead hands because he’d rather die than ever let you go.

“Y/N/N? You here?”

When you emerged from the bathroom, JJ swore the wind was knocked out of him. His eyes trailed down your elegant frame, your curves clad in a dress he hadn’t seen you in before. Your hair was natural, and you were bare-faced, but JJ believed you could walk a damn red carpet looking the way you did and capture the eyes and hearts of everyone in that room.

“Woah…” he breathed, awestruck.

“Hi.”

Your eyes were sad, and your lips were in a pout, but your tone would’ve been enough on its own to tell him that something had upset you. Reaching out for you, his warm hands found your hips and pulled you to him.

“You make sad look beautiful, princess.”

You smiled a little at his words before wrapping your arms around his torso and melting into him. “Thanks.”

He hugged you back, completely void of hesitation. He took the time to drown in your scent. It was incredibly fitting; sweet and hypnotic, just like you.

“What’s the matter?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s not a big deal. I’m just being sensitive.”

“Hey,” he said, pulling away from you a little so he could look you in the eye. “It’s a big deal to me if it’s bothering you.”

God, how did he do that? He could convince you to unload everything on him with a few words and that look in his eye that made you feel as if he wanted to know every single detail running around in your mind. Pair that with the warm loving touch he was smoothing over you, calloused palms rubbing your sides up and down a few times, and your words came leaking out of you like a faucet.

“Does this dress look right on me? It’s okay, you can be honest. I just need an opinion I can trust.”

JJ felt a crack in his heart when those words left your lips. You wouldn’t even look at him, you just stared at the floor beneath your feet and smoothed out the fabric around your hips over and over as if you viewed yourself as anything less than perfection.

You were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. There wasn’t a single thing about you that he wasn’t crazy about.

That he didn’t dream about.

Tipping your face up by your chin and forcing your eyes on him so you could really hear what he was about to tell you, he spoke.

“Pretty girl, y’almost killed me when you walked through that door.”

“Really?”

JJ couldn’t tell if he wanted to hug you so tight that you’d end up stuck to him, or kiss the daylights out of you when he saw that spark of hope light your face up. “Really. You look perfect.”

You smiled that adorable, bashful smile, the one you always gave him when he calmed your mind and silenced your doubts.

Little did you know that he’d sell everything he owned to keep that smile there for eternity. If only you would’ve seen the lovestruck look JJ was giving you. There might as well’ve been hearts floating around his head.

However, your eyes were too busy looking at the splash of springtime colours against the white backsplash of your bedding. You felt your smile grow into a grin at the gorgeous bouquet lying there, and your eyes finally moved back onto the tall blonde in front of you.

“You got me flowers?”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

It was JJ’s turn to be bashful. He scratched his brow, trying to hide his now rosy cheeks as he turned around to grab the bouquet. He handed them to you carefully, and he could hear his heart thumping wildly as you stared down at them adoringly.

“You got me flowers.”

“It’s not a big deal. Jus’ swung by your favourite shop after work.”

Jesus, had you always made him this nervous?

You cradled the flowers in one arm, and let your free hand grab his. You tugged at it, silently telling him to come closer. You looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

“You got me flowers, J.”

The act of getting flowers was out of the ordinary for him. It seemed so…romantic. That’s not to say that he hasn’t bore his heart to you, ‘cause he had, but this…this was different.

At least, it felt different.

“Look, I jus’ thought, y’know…a girl as special as you deserves flowers.”

Oh, if you could’ve kissed him, you would’ve done so until you both ran out of oxygen. Maybe even longer. Even if it meant that you’d perish because of it.

But, you couldn’t, so you settled on pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. Then, he cleared his throat when he realized he might’ve been staring at you too long. “So, what’s the fancy getup for?”

“Oh, right,” you spoke. “My parents decided to pimp me out tomorrow night.”

His eyes almost bulged out of his head. “I beg your finest pardon?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Between the look on his face and his tone, he was making it impossible not to. “They’re throwing some benefit here for the Cut tomorrow night, and Logan asked for me to be his date. You remember Logan, right?”

You spun around, grabbing your empty vase off the dresser and heading back into your bathroom to fill it up. Meanwhile, JJ was stuck in place, his mind buffering.

Date? Did he hear that right?

When he came to, he was quick to follow you. “You— Wait— Huh?”

“Logan Huntzberger? I told you that story about how we snuck onto that boat once with a bottle of champagne and got busted by the owners, remember?”

“That’s not the part I’m confused about, Y/N.”

His tone was more icy than he intended, but he couldn’t help but feel something like rage boiling and brewing in his core. You didn’t seem to notice, though, and if you did, you didn’t show it. Instead, you unwrapped the bouquet cautiously and placed the flowers into the vase. You were about to pass him and the threshold back into your bedroom when his hard curled around your bicep.

“You’re goin’ on a date?”

You gave him a weird look. “He just wants to escort me to this thing tomorrow. And to be honest, there’s safety in numbers. My parents will be so focused on him that they’ll forget about me.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours as he let go of you. “You coulda just asked me.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you placed the full vase back where it belonged. “You hate kook shit like this.”

“I woulda came for you. You didn’t need to say yes to some spoiled rich kid.”

“I didn’t say yes to him. My mom and dad did,” you reminded him. You walked up to him, arms crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling very open and vulnerable. “Why are you being like this? You know how they are.”

“‘M not bein’ like anythin’,” he denied. He moved away from you, grabbing his bag off your bed. “I gotta go.”

He didn’t know what he was doing. He just knew he had to get out of there before he exploded on you and ruined everything. How could you be going on a date with someone else when JJ was ready to tell you that he wanted you forever?

You grabbed his arm this time around. “Don’t do that. Don’t walk away from me. Just talk to me.”

JJ couldn’t stay. He felt sick. He felt like he wanted to strangle someone.

Okay, fine. Not just anyone.

Logan.

And maybe your dad, too.

“Have fun tomorrow, alright?”

JJ made his second escape of the day much quicker than he had with his first, practically poofing into thin air right before your eyes. You wanted to chase after him, beg him to just let you in instead of running away from you, but you knew getting him to open up wasn’t that easy. He’d have to want to come to you. So you just stood there, watching the doorframe hoping he’d come back, and growing utterly disappointed when he didn’t.

—

After the events at your home, JJ had decided to crash at John B’s. He thought being around him and the group would help take his mind off things, but all he could focus on was the void he felt without you beside him.

That night he had been even worse. He tossed and turned restlessly all night, never the one to be able to sleep without you in his presence. He needed to hear your rhythmic breathing and feel your warmth as you curled into his side in your slumber. It’s like his mind was never at rest unless he was with you.

The next day had dragged on, your date with Logan being the only thing on his mind from the minute he’d opened his eyes. He went to work, though he was clearly somewhere else mentally. He’d gotten scolded a few times, but he failed to remember why. Then, his bike broke down on the way back home, so he walked to Sarah’s house, hoping to catch a ride. He eventually made it, but was greeted by a party he had completely forgotten the group had planned.

JJ had half a mind to turn back and just go home. All he wanted to do was slump into a chair on his porch, smoke a joint and try to forget about the shittiest day he’d had in a long while. But he was far too exhausted to make that trip, and why go all the way home when he could get shitfaced instead? It’d help him forget just the same.

Right?

Wrong.

As the intoxication began to take over him, so did the thoughts of you.

Why did he walk away? Why didn’t he just open his mouth and say something?

‘I love you. I’m in love with you, and you can’t be with anyone else because you should be with me.’

That’s all he had to say.

And he blew it.

The group groaned around him when he started to rant about you and your date again. He’d been rambling on and on, causing a few people in the circle to leave so they wouldn’t have to hear yet another string of complaints fall from his lips.

“And it’s jus’ like, of course she’d ch-choose him,” he hiccupped into his red solo cup. “He’s like, rich ‘n loaded ‘n-n stacked.”

Pope rolled his eyes. “Those all mean the same thing, J.”

“Well, y’know what ‘m tryna say. He can give her everything. He could prolly buy her the planet. I could never do that.”

Sarah watched her friend wallow in his drunken sorrows, and she felt saddened for him. She had always known how much JJ loved you. She could see it in his eyes the first time she saw you two together. He’d bleed himself dry for you, and there was never any question about it.

“Okay,” she cooed, getting up from her seat and plucking his cup from his hand. “Think you’ve had enough, JJ. C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

JJ grumbled out a few protests, but Sarah ignored them, asking John B to help her lead JJ to one of the guest rooms. They managed to get him tucked into bed, and when his eyes fluttered shut, they figured they were okay to leave.

Unfortunately, not even a half hour later, JJ woke up. He was still way past intoxicated, but he stumbled into the kitchen in search of another bottle. He almost came up dry until he saw a bottle of whiskey less than a quarter full. He chugged down the remaining contents, and instantly made a hasty exit, his boots dragging against the pavement as he walked.

Though he was drunk, his feet led him in a familiar direction. He knew where he longed to be, where he needed to be.

He arrived at your house, clambering his way to your door and ignoring the nasty looks he’d gotten from your parents friends and colleagues. He pushed the door open, tripping over the threshold but managing to keep himself upright. He made his way through the house, and his mind quieted when his eyes finally landed on you. He was elated for all of five seconds because then he saw Logan’s hand find your waist. He pulled you closer to him, angling his head down slightly.

Absolutely-fucking-not.

“Hey! Keep your hands off my damn girl!”

Your eyes, Logan’s, and countless other partygoers’ all shot over to JJ. He was stumbling and had almost taken out one of the serves as he made his way over to you.

“J? What are you doing here?”

JJ ignored your words and your hands on his chest as he pointed an accusatory finger at your date. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch her again.”

“JJ, stop! You’re drunk!” You shout in a whisper, pushing him back a little now.

“You don’t know her. You haven’t spent your whole life loving her and making sure she had someone. You aren’t there to remind her to eat when she gets stressed, ‘c-cause she always forgets. ‘N you aren’t there when she cries, ‘n your heart doesn’t break when she does. You’re nothin’.”

More eyes were now on the three of you, and before you knew it, your parents were making their way over to you.

“Enough, Maybank. Get out of this house before I throw you out,” your father snarled.

“Dad, stop it!”

“You,” JJ said, turning his attention to your parents. “You two are the worst of ‘em all. Throwin’ this bullshit party when you’re never even here. You care about the cut? You don’t even care about your damn daughter!”

“JJ, enough! Let’s go!” You pleaded, trying to pull him.

He freed his arm from your grasp. “No, Y/N/N, everyone needs to hear this. They need to know they’re supportin’ two people who think it’s fun to body shame their daughter and remind her time and time again that they couldn’t care less about her. They didn’t even go to your graduation, Y/N/N. You worked your ass off, ‘n they couldn’t even be bothered to send you a damn card! Never mind the last five birthdays of yours that they missed. They’re pieces of shit, ‘n all their friends should know it!”

“You’re lucky I don’t call the cops!”

“Go ‘head. Call ‘em. Call ‘em ‘n tell ‘em that you’re arresting me for defending your daughter.”

“That’s it,” you mumbled to yourself. You grabbed JJ, pulling him hard this time. “Come with me, now.”

JJ’s voice got quieter the further away you dragged him, but it was clear enough. “‘M not done with you, Y/F/N!”

Luckily, Logan had come to your aid, helping you haul JJ up the stairs. It wasn’t an easy feat, as JJ had been swatting him away the entire way up. The two of you finally got him into your room, and you told Logan to rejoin the party. JJ sunk into your bed, and you tucked him under the sheets before handing him a water bottle. He pouted, not wanting to drink it, but relented when he saw the look on your face.

“Are you mad?”

You ignored his words, continuing to help him get settled. You were trying hard to bite your tongue because you knew that even if you scolded him, he most likely wouldn’t remember a single thing you said. That, and you could tell he was hurting. That’s the only reason he would’ve gotten this drunk.

“Uh oh. You’re mad. ‘M soo in trouble.”

“Tomorrow, JJ. Go to sleep.”

His big blue eyes sulked at you, though they were a tad hazy, and he latched onto your hand after you smoothed some hair from his eyes. “‘M sorry. ‘M just sad.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath. “It’s okay, J. Now sleep.”

He tapped his right cheek, silently asking you for a kiss there. You did as he requested, unable to refuse him, but not without an eye roll. Then he repeated his taps on his other cheek. You kissed him there too. The cycle continued with his forehead, and then his nose. When you were done, he tried his luck, tapping his puckered lips.

To that, you laughed softly. “Nice try, Maybank.”

—

If you could pay someone to pluck the memories of the previous night from your brain, you’d fork over all the cash you could muster. JJ’s behaviour, your embarrassment, apologizing to Logan profusely….

Yeah.

You’d erase all of it.

Mad and anxious as you were, though, you couldn’t stop thinking about how your ‘date’ had only made things more abundantly clear; you would forever be in love with JJ.

All night long, you knew Logan was trying to charm you. He was the perfect gentleman. He helped you down the stairs in your heels, guided you through the crowd, and got your drinks for you. Talked to you about your interests and actually, genuinely cared about what you had to say. But with every touch of his, all you could feel was the ghost of JJ’s and the trails of fire he’d left behind every time his skin brushed against yours. Could smell his familiar scent of weed, sea salt and some high-end cologne he’d snatched from a party on Figure 8, in place of the cologne that Logan had spritzed on himself. And when Logan tried to kiss you, you couldn’t even think about it. Because the truth was, you knew it would never compare to the sliver of heaven you’d ascended to when JJ’s mouth was on yours.

Your mind moved over to the boy you’d tucked into your bed last night, and a pang of worry hit you. Yes, you were still mad, at least partly, but you couldn’t focus on that. All you could focus on was your concern for him.

What was he battling? And why did he feel as if he couldn’t approach you about it? Didn’t he know by now that you’d stand by him through anything?

Didn’t he know by now that he wasn’t alone?

A loud clang in the kitchen caught your attention, and you decided to head down to investigate. You were also in desperate need of a cup of coffee.

You hadn’t expected to find JJ moving around your kitchen less-than-expertly during what would probably go down as the worst hangover known to man, but the sight that greeted you was nothing but endearing.

There he was, your best friend, surrounded by a chaotic array of ingredients and bowls and utensils. Flour dusted the tips of his blonde (now white) strands, there was a smear of what you assumed was batter across the apple of his cheek, and his clothes looked even worse off than his face.

Still, his tongue was poked out adorably while he concentrated on the soon-to-be-cooked ingredients in front of him.

“J?” You chuckled softly, unable to suppress your smile at the sight before you.

JJ’s eyes flit up to yours abruptly, a worried and panicked look spreading across his face. You could see the dark circles, and his voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke.

“Shit! You’re supposed to be in bed!” He rushed over to you, hands finding your shoulders with ease and trying to urge you to spin back around. “You gotta go back up.”

Your amusement was clear on your face as you looked around at the mess. “I don’t think that’s wise, J.”

JJ scratched the back of his neck, huffing frustratedly. His eyes weren’t as bright as usual, noticeably clouded by shame. “I jus’ wanted to apologize for last night. I thought makin’ breakfast would maybe help me get back on your good side.”

Your heart softened at his sincerity, your annoyance from the previous night now dissipating at his intentions. “You’re always on my good side. I just wish you’d talk to me about what’s going on instead of completely dodging me and getting blackout drunk just ‘cause you’re avoiding things.”

You’d always known him so well. Most times, you knew him better than himself. That being said, JJ should’ve known that you’d figure him out the minute he showed up at your house. He messed up terribly. He knew he embarrassed you, he knew he might’ve ruined the party and angered your parents beyond belief. But right now, he knew that even after all those things, they’d never stop you from worrying for him and making sure he was good on all fronts.

He definitely didn’t deserve you, but at that moment, he decided; he was going to keep you anyway.

“You’re way too good for me.” JJ’s flour-dusted hand cupped your cheek, and he looked down at you with all the love he could muster up, and then some. “You’re way too good for me, and I fell in love with you anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his words hung in the air, and you blinked, momentarily taken aback by the confession you’d spent nearly your entire life yearning for, yet never expected to hear.

“You’re…you’re in love with me?” You repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes searched his, and now, they were as clear and sincere as ever.

JJ nodded earnestly. “After that night, when I showed up with those flowers…I was gonna tell you. ‘N then you told me about your date with Logan ‘n I jus’ freaked ‘cause I could feel myself losin’ you to this, like, superior guy who could give you everythin’ I couldn’t.”

“J…” you trailed off sadly in a whisper.

“It’s always been us, y’know? Two peas in a shitty-parents-pod. But even on my worst days with Luke…it never mattered, ‘cause I had you. ‘N when I thought about you leavin’ me…Y/N/N, I couldn’t even stomach it. Then I kinda went off the deep end.”

You grabbed his hands with urgency. “I could never leave you, J. Never.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a soft voice. “I love you too much.”

JJ’s gaze searched yours, his eyes mixed with hope and trepidation. “For real?”

“Yes, for real, dummy. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and your heart pounded in your chest at your confession. But this time, it wasn’t with nerves or fear, it was one hundred percent, wholeheartedly with love.

“So, does that mean I can finally kiss you again?”

Even at his most vulnerable, this cheeky boy could still whip out a boyish smirk on command. This only prompted you to toy with him a little, just to get back at him.

“And what makes you think I’m gonna kiss you, Maybank?”

His hands surged toward your hips, and he pulled you impossibly closer while licking his lips. “I know you, remember? ‘N after the other night, I know what you look like when you want to.”

Damn, he was good.

Your arms looped around the back of his neck, and you threw him a daring look. “So do it.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His lips found yours, and you stood there for some time, just drowning each other without anything holding you back this time. Things couldn’t have been more perfect.

He couldn’t have been more perfect.

Just like that, the two of you were home. And you’d never dare to leave.

967 notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 5 months

Text

SAYING SOMETHING THEY DIDN'T MEAN IN A FIGHT | PERFORMANCE UNIT

𐙚 JUN

it would take a lot for jun to say something he didn’t mean, especially when it comes to you. he was always wary of what he was saying during fights or quarrels to not say something he’d regret later, but there were times where he was just too tired to think about what he was saying. i think he’d be the quickest out of all of them to apologise, like the second the hurtful words leave his mouth he’s already apologising, he just can’t stand your sad and disappointed expression.

“i’m so sorry, honey. i didn’t mean it, i truly didn’t mean it. i know i can’t make excuses now, i’m so sorry, baby.”

jun started babbling, not even letting you breathe after what he had just said. you wouldn’t lie - his words hurt, especially because jun never raised his voice at you during fights, so yes, you were sad and upset, but at the same time, a part of you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now.

jun’s eyes were wide in panic, and he was holding your hands tightly in his, as if he was scared that you’d run away, which to be honest - you’d do if he didn’t have such a strong hold on you. hearing something so hurtful from the person you loved the most wasn’t easy, you felt betrayed and disappointed by his actions, but you didn’t want him to get so worked up over this either. “jun, baby, calm down.”

“no, i won’t. you have to believe me that i didn’t mean it.” you cupped his face in your hands, so his frantic eyes would focus on you for more than a second. “let’s just talk about it, k’ay?”

jun nodded his head quickly, helping you settle on the couch next to him, where you’d calmly talk about what had just happened (he’d keep on apologising for the rest of the day, even if you said you forgave him).

𐙚 HOSHI

things could get heated with this one really quickly, especially if he was stressed because of work or his schedules. hoshi would never intentionally take out his anger on you, but at the same time i don’t think he’s the best at managing his emotions, especially anger. he’d be so disappointment in himself after, though - like, the moment he says something hurtful (that he of course didn’t mean) he’d blame himself so much, and knowing that he hurt you would break his heart.

no words could describe the disappointment and embarrassment with himself that hoshi felt then. how could he hurt his loved one in such a cruel way? you didn't do anything wrong and he let his words and anger get the best of him, leaving you sobbing quietly in the middle of the living room.

“baby…” he felt like he didn’t deserve to call you that after what he had said, and you definitely looked even more upset hearing the pet name. “why would you say that?” you asked, your voice laced with so much sadness, hoshi felt his own heart breaking. he was sure your crying face would haunt him in his dreams now, but he deserved it.

hoshi knew it’d be for the best to leave you alone for a while now, so you could calm down and collect your thoughts, but he was afraid that if you left now, you wouldn't come back. he wouldn't even realise when his own tears would start running down his cheeks too. “I’m so sorry,” he’d whisper, covering his face in shame.

“i can’t hear you, honey,” you sniffled, wiping your face dry. “i-i’m s-sorry,” he hiccuped between the sobs. at the end, you both would start crying in each other's embrace.

of course you wouldn't forgive him right away, but you didn't want him to worry that you would leave him.

𐙚 MINGHAO

i feel like making minghao mad isn’t that hard, but that doesn’t mean he’d just lash out and take all of his anger on you, especially because he is a person that is good at managing his emotions. things could get really heated because of his pettiness and passive aggressiveness, though. sometimes he wouldn’t think through what he was saying or how he was acting, and how it would affect you.

“wow, minghao,” you muttered, looking at him with disbelief. “is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

when he didn’t answer, you turned on your heel and walked out to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. minghao, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the living room trying to wrap his head around what had just happened - what he had just said to you. the guilt started to catch up to him, his chest filling with crushing pain.

what made minghao feel even worse was that he didn’t react immediately and apologised. he didn’t even realise how much his words had hurt you at that moment, which made him feel like he was the worst boyfriend ever.

he’d give you some time alone, but when bedtime came, he’d softly knock on the door, your favourite snacks on a plate, and your favourite hoodie of his in his hand, and wait for you to open up. then, he’d apologise and have a proper, calm conversation with you. it was rare that you went to bed angry, minghao always made sure you’d make up before falling asleep, because in no universe would he be able to fall asleep knowing you were angry with him.

𐙚 CHAN

chan would never intentionally say anything to hurt you, you were the love of his life and he swore to do anything to keep you happy and safe at all times, so you’d have to get in a really big fight for him to say something hurtful. and honestly it would break his heart seeing your reaction to his words, he just wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. and as much as i don’t think that chan is an insecure person, i think he’d need a lot of reassurance after a fight that you still love him and that you’re not going to leave him.

chan stared in horror as a tear ran down your cheek. “baby, i didn’t… i don’t-” he saw your eyes fill with even more tears and if he only understood what had just happened, he would have immediately hugged you, but the problem was that he himself didn't know what had just happened. how the fuck could words like those even leave his mouth?

“are u going to say anything else?” you asked, sadness filling your voice. "say something chan," but he couldn't, he stood still, he even stopped breathing. shame and embarrassment consumed him completely, he didn't know how he would ever be able to look at himself after saying such nasty words to you.

he would stand and watch as you passed by him to leave the apartment, but he still wouldn't be able to move. when he finally realised that you had left the house and left him, he would just break down and cry in the middle of the room from the feeling of being so helpless. what if you really left him?

he wouldn't try to text or call you because he’d be afraid that all he’d hear would be "we’re over chan, don't call me ever again," and he wouldn't be surprised if you did. he acted like a total jerk.

when it finally started to get dark and you managed to calm yourself down, you went back to your place to calmly talk to your boyfriend, but all you’d find would be chan sleeping on your side of the bed, cuddled into your pillow with dried tears on his cheeks. that night he would be the little spoon, cuddled in your arms.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo

1K notes · View notes

planet-dusk · 8 months

Text

☆ making bad decisions for you ∘ b.c

chan fucked up, and now he's left to deal with the consequences. how does one find someone to help their sweet pup through her heat on such short notice? the first step: call jisung. the second step: stay on the straight path. he has this under control. at least that's what chan thinks, until you throw him a curve...

─── ☆ pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

─── ☆ length: 2.3k

─── ☆ warnings: puppy hybrid!reader, sub!reader, perv!chan, big dick chan, pillow humping, corruption, bondage, unprotected sex, breeding (like a lot), dirty talk, praise, pet names: baby, pup, puppy

─── ☆ note: 18+ minors dni. the characters don’t represent real idols; this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. fictional smut is not a reflection of real life ! always communicate with your partner and practice consensual and safe sex ‹33

Chan’s in over his head.

He knew this day would come. He should’ve been prepared. But he’s been so busy lately, and he didn’t keep track of your cycle — fuck, if only he could physically beat himself up for being the world’s shittiest owner.

And of course he can’t find the informational flyers anywhere, and he doesn’t trust the internet, the advice varying so wildly he isn’t sure what to believe. He could call the shelter, but he doesn’t want them to find out he messed up. What if they take you away from him?

So he calls the only experienced person he can think of: Jisung.

“I really don’t know what to do, Han, fuck! Please help…”

“Take a deep breath, it’ll be alright. It’s not your fault there’s a suppressant shortage. You sure you don’t want to…?”

“I can’t, it’s… it’s wrong,” Chan feels the panic rising in his chest again. He takes another gulp of air to calm his shaky nerves.

“Fine, okay, it was just a suggestion! No need to yell at me, lemme look into it. I'll find a stud for her and come over as soon as my shift’s done, okay? You try to stay calm in the meantime and do exactly as I've told you to. Can you do that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s - I’m a mess, I should’ve seen it coming, but thank you, Ji. Thank you. I owe you one.”

“No worries, bro. Good luck. Call me if you need any help.”

The call disconnects and Chan is left standing alone in the empty bathroom, his heart galloping in his chest. He failed you. But he needs to be there for you now. He's not proud of what he’s about to do, but you’ll understand. He has no other choice. When this is all over you’ll understand. Please, you have to…

“Please forgive me, Y/N,” he whispers and unlocks the door.

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom Chan’s thrown off balance by your body slamming into his. “Channie, sir, please,” you whimper, pressing yourself tighter against his side and wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan feels a blush rise to his cheeks and turns his head away, swallowing harshly.

“Let’s go to your bedroom, pup.”

You yelp excitedly and dart off, throwing yourself on the bed. Your tail wags against the sheets and Chan can’t help but smile. When he was a little kid he always thought he’d get a wolfdog hybrid, or a big husky, but then he saw you at the shelter: a little cream coloured mutt with soft ears and a fluffy tail, and he knew he had to bring you home.

You’re watching him rummage through his nightstand, head cocked and ears pointed. “‘t hurts, Channie, please hurry,” you roll on your back and stay there, skirt sliding down your thighs and almost exposing your panties. Chan coughs.

“I know, baby, Channie’s here to make it all better,” he mumbles and fishes a pair of padded handcuffs out of the drawer. “Just give me your hands, okay?”

You give him a puzzled look but comply, letting him attach the cuffs to the headboard. “I'm so sorry, puppy, I'm sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your eyes.

Then he turns around and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft but resolute thud.

Your frustrated howls are loud enough to reach the living room and he flinches. Every noise you make pierces his soul and adds to the pool of guilt in his gut. He had to do it, Jisung told him so — keep her safe, tie her up somewhere, otherwise she might hurt herself. It’s for her best interest.

Chan knows, but why does it hurt him so much? He checks his phone, looking for a distraction. Two hours left until Jisung’s shift is done. Surely he can find a stud before the end of the day, right? Jisung knows so many people. He said everything would be fine. Chan just has to relax and trust him.

He takes another deep breath and turns on the tv, mindlessly going through the channels. He checks his phone again. 5 minutes have passed. Time’s never felt this slow.

Eventually he settles on a documentary about tiger hybrids. He almost succeeds in focusing on the (terrible but entertaining) storyline when he notices your howls have changed into softer, breathier sounds. They almost sound like… moans? Chan thinks. He feels his cock stir. He shifts on the couch and stares at the tv, but the screen is a blur and he doesn’t hear a word the voiceover says.

The noises continue and Chan grows more restless. How…? He looks at his phone again. 90 minutes left.

With growing curiosity, Chan’s feet lead him to your bedroom almost involuntarily. Your noises have grown softer, little moans and whimpers drifting through the door. With a quiet click he opens it and peeks his head around.

You’re sitting on the bed, awkwardly positioned with your hands still chained to the headboard. Somehow you’ve managed to maneuver one of the pillows between your spread knees. You’re grinding down on it, fluffy tail causing your skirt to ride up. From his position in the doorframe Chan catches a glimpse of your white panties hugging your ass.

The noises you’re making range from whiny to plain frustrated, the friction not enough to satisfy you. When you bend over to try and find a better position, Chan sucks in a breath, cock swelling at the sight of your soaked panties. You’re so wet the gusset has become almost see through, clinging to the outline of your pussy.

Chan shouldn’t be here. He should leave before you notice him, before it’s too late. He should go back to the living room, put on his headphones and wait for Jisung to arrive. Let him sort it out. Get you a handsome dog hybrid to help you through your heat.

“Chan?” your voice is soft, halting his train of thought. “Please…”

He’s not sure if it’s your broken plea or something else that compels him to move, but Chan steps into your room. Your tail starts to wag slowly and you drop to your elbows, presenting yourself to him. From this distance Chan can see the tantalizing curve where your thighs meet your ass, the spot he wants to lick and suck and tease…

“‘s okay, puppy, Channie’s here.” There’s still time to leave. But you’re looking back at him with your pretty eyes — how could he say no to his sweet pup? He wants to protect you. Keep you safe. Jisung and his stud be damned.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you, Y/N. I panicked.”

His hand strokes your thigh and you sigh into his touch. “Don’t leave me again, Channie. Promise.”

Chan shakes his head. “It was a mistake, I promise, I’m here with you now pup. Let me help you.”

You mewl when his fingers graze your clothed slit. “Sir, ‘s hurting, don’t make me wait any longer, need you to breed me now, please,” you trail off, grinding back against his hand.

Normally Chan would take his time to explore your body, tease you until you’ve cum at least twice before he’d give you his cock. But he hears the urgency in your voice, your pained little whimpers as you tug at your restraints.

And it’d be a lie to say he hasn’t fantasized about this before. Late at night in his own bedroom while he tried to muffle his moans, unsure of what your sensitive ears could pick up.

Chan slides your panties down your thighs with shaky hands. Your pretty cunt’s all puffy and glossy with your slick and it drips down his fingers when he pushes two inside.

Your reaction is instantaneous, a pleasant gasp as you arch your back for him. “Need more, need your cock, need it now,” you plead again.

“You sure you can take it, puppy?”

Chan rolls his plush bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

“‘Mmm don’t care, make it fit,” you pout and wag your tail for him, “Channie.”

He’ll never tire of hearing his name like this. A broken sound, filled with so much need it goes straight to his head.

He chucks off his pants and his boxers, hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. He slides the tip over your slit to wet it, holding your hips to keep you still. Then he sheathes himself in your dripping heat inch by inch, whispering soft praises into the air between you.

“Just like that, puppy, don’t move. Gonna fill you up so good baby, let me take care of you.”

Chan knows he’s big, watches your pretty hole stretch to accommodate him. He groans at how wet and warm you feel. It’s even better than he imagined. When you shift forward on your knees he growls, “Where do you think you’re going, pup? I'm not even halfway in yet.”

He pushes in deeper, watches you arch your back even more. “Channie, so full,” you pant when he finally bottoms out, stilling for a moment to catch his breath. The sensation of your soft, velvety cunt around him is overwhelming all his senses.

“Yeah? Is my puppy nice and full?”

“Wanted - wanted this for so long,” you say and his heart makes a little leap. He knows it’s just your heat-clouded mind talking, the hormones making you more susceptible to his presence. But there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re speaking the truth.

“Yah - wanted my sir, my Channie,” you nod when he starts moving, holding tight onto the handcuff’s chain. He briefly considers removing them, but you don’t seem to mind being tied up like this, pushing back on his cock like the neediest little thing he’s ever seen.

My Channie.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he groans and you hum at the sound of your name. “Can’t stay away from you - my pretty baby… knew it from the day I brought you home.”

You’re moaning every time his hips meet yours, soft uh-uh-uh’s like music to his ears. Your pussy is gushing around his length, and Chan’s not sure how long he’s going to last if you keep clenching down on him like this.

“Fuck, puppy - you’re hugging my cock so tight,” he lands a playful smack on your ass, “want me to breed you that bad, huh? Want me to stuff you full with pups?”

He tilts your hips to reach even deeper, fat cock slamming into you with force. You’re slumping against the mattress and he hovers over your back to nip at your ear, eliciting another moan from you. The soft fur of your tail tickles his abs but Chan is too focused on the erratic pulsing of your walls around him.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? I can feel you’re close, just let go. I’ve got you. Channie’s got you. My good girl.”

You sob and he feels your release gush around him, fucking you through your high with renewed vigor. You’re a blabbering mess, unable to form words except for “Channie,” “please,” and “fuck.”

“Did my puppy lose her tongue?” He grins. “Getting all dumb on my cock after one orgasm, and I haven’t even bred you yet, baby.”

“Please…need it,” you whisper into the sheets, “need you to cum inside, please, sir.”

Even with his weight pressing you into the bed you’re still angling your hips up more, and Chan buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smell so good, like vanilla and the heady scent of sex. “I always keep my promise, pup, I’m going to breed you so well you’ll feel it dripping out of you for the next three days.”

You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze, your eyes so glossy and fucked-out Chan loses all composure. He ruts into you one, two more times before ropes of thick cum paint your inner walls and tumble you headfirst into another orgasm.

His thighs are shaking, your cunt milking him of every last drop until he’s a panting mess on top of you. For a moment the two of you lay still, breathing heavily, until Chan realizes you’re still chained to the bed. He pulls out and you mumble something when you feel his cum drip out of you, rubbing your thighs together.

Chan unclasps the handcuffs and kisses your wrists, hugs you close and captures your lips with his own. They’re so soft, needy little sounds already escaping you again as you rut against his thigh. “Need more, Channie.”

“Insatiable little thing,” he grins and traces your puffy cunt with his fingers. “Can’t get enough, can you?”

He slips one finger in your sensitive hole just as the doorbell rings. You look up in surprise, eyes wide and ears darting in all directions.

Chan kisses you again. “Ignore the bell, pup. I’m not going anywhere. Made a promise, remember? Need to breed you nice and round. Maybe make you beg a little more for it,” he chuckles, “let me see how needy you can really get.”

You’re grinding down on his thigh now and Chan doesn’t care how long he has to stay here with you, he’ll give you whatever you want. He’ll spend days holed up inside your nest if he has to.

You grab his shirt and pull him closer, and the blaring sound of his ringtone rips him out of his reverie.

He rolls over with a groan and hits the green button, cutting off Jisung’s voice. “It’s already taken care of, Ji. Thank you.”

“Wha —? You sly dog!”

Chan throws his phone into a corner and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your thighs with a smile. “Don’t worry, pup. I won’t let anyone else touch you ever again.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #sub!reader #dom!idol #;skz longfic #tw: perversion

3K notes · View notes