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#but they feel so much more situational than deep-rooted
clumsycapitolunicorn · 5 months
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it's been nearly 6 months since the ted lasso finale and im still pretty much:
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#ted lasso#messing with us tedbecca shippers and giving rebecca some rando...ruining a canon ship...trying to girl boss a character-#-who you didn't even let have her own work plot when it was time...#making two men who had a beautiful relationship growth fight last minute over said girlboss and making them grossly misogynistic#leaving one of your characters in an ab*s*ve relationship was an awful woman and all the mentioned ab*s*ve moments were-#-just for sh*ts and giggles#ohhh and also making it mandatory to forgive even the sh*tty people when it's ok not to#taking your lead away from a place he was most stable and maybe or maybe not having him get back with his ex who told him he was too much..#-got with their therapist (and you never dig deep into that mess) and maybe cheated...#yes to be with his son but there were options for him to stay in london and bring his kid and ex so they could both parent or show a-#representation of these kind of situations and maybe have henry living with each parent 6 months each and getting the best of both worlds#also your boss is more rich than she started and was providing for you your kid and ex#instead we get ted only deciding to leave after his mother told him his kid missed him (as if that isn't obvious) such a weak way to go-#-about it and tbh ted leaving his kid far away to go to london instead of like half an hour way is kind of stupid all round really#they wanted a mary poppins situation except mary poppins made some roots of her own and had connections so it didn'twork#yeah i am still...feeling a lot
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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Freelance Inventor Part 2
Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)
"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.
The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .
It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.
It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.
"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.
Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."
Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.
This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.
Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.
He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.
For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.
It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.
"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.
Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.
Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."
Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."
"Yes, Danny"
Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.
"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.
"You don't speak Romani."
"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"
"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.
Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.
Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.
______________________________________________
"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.
Anxious.
It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.
Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.
"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.
Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.
He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.
Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.
Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"
"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.
Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.
"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.
Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.
Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.
Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.
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"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.
It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.
His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.
He hadn't meant to.
He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.
Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.
He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.
It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.
Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.
Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.
This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.
He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.
Only heard, he was not enough.
So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.
He just needed to respect it.
"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."
Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"
"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."
After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."
He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.
Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.
"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."
"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."
Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.
"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"
"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.
The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.
"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.
Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"
The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.
But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.
Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.
Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.
(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)
No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.
His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?
Bruce being Batman?!
Please.
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safetypinxtales · 4 months
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Lonely with you | Azriel
summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.
words: 1.5k
warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING
notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
part 2
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You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him. 
That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest. 
The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing. 
Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees. 
The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…
… And your friend. Unfortunately.
“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long. 
Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say. 
“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.
Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course. 
… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him. 
His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–
His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight. 
Cauldron boil you.
Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.
”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle. 
“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”
Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame. 
“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose. 
That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like. 
“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.
“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–
“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“
“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with. 
Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 
“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”
“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.
“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”
Your mouth fell open. 
Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.
Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.
He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second. 
In his defense, you very well might have.
A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.
The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there. 
You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area. 
Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response. 
You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention. 
The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole. 
You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest. 
Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.
Like two pieces of a puzzle.
“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”
You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.
Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest. 
Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.
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golden-cherry · 5 months
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deal - cl16 (20/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.
Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael
Word Count: 3.7k
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A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.
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It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut. 
But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."
You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.
"Please, Y/N."
"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.
He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."
"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.
"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."
You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."
"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."
"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"
Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."
You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."
His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"
By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.
"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible. 
"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."
"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."
Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to." 
You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?" 
"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."
You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"
His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"
If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing. 
Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"
Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?
Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."
"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"
"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.
Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"
Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."
Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out." 
"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.
Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"
"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"
"Clearly and distinctly."
"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut. 
But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.
"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."
"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase. 
"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"
He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."
Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"
"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."
You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"
Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."
Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?
Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find. 
Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy. 
You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night. 
But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?
He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street. 
"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"
"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."
"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."
Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."
You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."
"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."
There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable. 
"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."
"We're going to my other place."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"
Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."
"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"
He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."
"We? What do you mean 'we'?"
"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."
Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."
After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?
As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"
His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in. 
Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-
"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.
"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.
"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself. 
After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.
The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far. 
And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before. 
His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.
He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him. 
He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities. 
And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?
Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?
Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock. 
Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.
You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you. 
Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him. 
You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him. 
"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck. 
"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."
next part
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rafesmuse · 1 year
Text
frustrations — j.m.
pairing: enemy!jj maybank x kook!reader
warnings: smut, enemies to lovers, unprotected vaginal sex, arguing, praise kink, fingering , creampie
word count: 2.7k
summary: you and jj never got along. you both blamed the hatred on the differences between kooks and pogues, but it might be rooted in something different than that.
requested by @thegreatsimpforlife
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“I don’t know about this Sarah” you said hesitantly. “Come on, it will be fine!” Sarah reassured as she dragged you by your arm with a tight grip, making sure you had no other choice but to follow her to the chateau. Her hair flowed beautifully in the evening’s summer breeze, causing you to forget about your worries for a brief moment as you gazed at her in awe. They quickly came back to mind once the chateau, along with the pogues, came into view.
Sarah invited you to hang out with the pogues and you had a strong feeling she hadn’t asked them beforehand, which made you feel uneasy. The pogues didn’t accept you. JJ in particular was very against it, and he made no effort to hide his disapproval from you. He claims kooks shouldn’t hang out with them, because they’re too different from one another. That was his biggest, but also his only reason. It was always the same pathetic story which he couldn’t seem to support with more reasonings.
Sarah insisted on you coming with her— she simply refused to pick a side. It clearly pained her, even though she tried not to show it. You were her best friend for years since she was a kook, and she tried to include you as much as she could. But you were still a kook, and Sarah was a pogue now.
Sarah waved at the pogues as the two of you approached them, and you warily followed her. They waved back at her before realising that you were with her, their excitement quickly waning. The two people who appeared to be most agitated were JJ and Kiara. JJ sat down again as his good mood instantly vanished and he angrily muttered something to the others. Pope and John B. weren't as opposed to it as the others were. Especially John B. remained silent. It would’ve been hypocritical of him to get angry at the situation, and as for Pope, he merely had more important things to worry about.
“What is kook princess doing here? Daddy didn’t bring you on his yacht today so you decided to annoy us?” JJ yelled as you came closer to them. Here we go again. You bit the inside of your mouth in hesitation, wondering if it was too late to just turn around. But you took a deep breath and decided to stay, for Sarah.
“Shut up, JJ” Sarah yelled back at him, giving him an angry glance. John B. worriedly eyed Sarah, Pope glanced at the ground, Kiara did not even acknowledge you and JJ’s enraged gaze wasn’t leaving you for even a second— the air was extremely tense.
Sarah eventually sat down on the bench and you followed her gesture to take a seat next to her. It was painfully quiet— the only sounds were a few still-awake birds chirping softly before JJ broke the silence, causing you to wince a little as you were lost in your thoughts.
“I’m gonna get something to drink. Anyone want something?” JJ asked as he stood up, seizing the empty can from beside him. Your throat felt dry, and you slowly raised your hand in desperation for a drink. “Yes, pl-“ “Nope. Not you.” You stared at him indignantly as he asked the others what they wanted, completely disregarding you before he headed back inside. Dickhead. You got up right after him and decided to get something yourself.
JJ grabbed several cans out of the fridge as you stood behind him, pondering what to say. You recoiled as he gripped the cans with annoyance and slammed them on the kitchen counter, a loud noise erupting with each can. It made you feel uneasy and you felt the need to talk to him slowly subsiding within you. The situation was difficult for you. You wanted to get along with the pogues, but no matter what you did— you could only do wrong in JJ’s eyes. Even though you weren’t particularly fond of him either, you could at least pretend to like each other for Sarah's sake and the harmony within the group. But JJ was too stubborn— it was hopeless.
You could hear incoherent whispers coming from outside just as you were about to speak before the door shut and the lock turned. Both your heads snapped to the door before JJ hurried to it, cursing as he frantically attempted to open it. When you peered out the window, you saw everyone scurrying from the chateau before getting into the twinkie and leaving.
“Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me” you said once the realisation hit you. Sarah had mentioned something to you before about them locking Sarah and Kiara in the boat— now they’re doing the same to you and JJ.
JJ desperately tried to open the door before moving on to the windows, checking them one by one. He was persistent, but he also seemed quite stressed, which you couldn’t seem to understand. Why did this seem like a total nightmare to him? All you had to do was makeup, even if you were just pretending, and they would let you out. Easy. But JJ evidently had a different view on that matter.
“They’re locked, smartass. You really think they didn’t think this through?” you said as you lay down on the couch, closing your eyes to think the whole situation through. “Shut up. I will get out of here”
A few minutes have passed of JJ trying to escape, without any success. You hadn’t moved an inch since and weren’t planning to either until you heard your stomach growl, the sound amplified by the eerily quiet room. “I’m hungry” you grumbled as you let out a sigh. “I’m hungryyy” JJ repeated mocking you, giving you a nasty look. You turned your head to him in disbelief, letting out a small chuckle, “So at what point do you become mature, JJ?” JJ scoffed as he sat down on a chair, his head in his hands.
“You know, princess, if you had juuust stayed in your palace, none of this would have happened.” JJ sneered, annoyance and rage lacing his voice— it shifted the entire atmosphere in less than a second.
“Oh, so it’s my fault now? If you just learned how to grow the fuck up, we would actually be getting along right now” you snapped back as you quickly got to your feet and JJ did the same. He was marching towards you now as raw anger shot through him.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a stuck-up princess, it would actually be easy to get along with you” he responded and you felt the anger overtaking you. Rage flowed through you like lava as your faces were merely inches apart. It was unfair. This was not your fault and he was certainly not going to tell you it was.
“Stop acting like this is all my fault because you know it’s not! God, you’re so fucking stubborn, JJ! And stop calling me pri-“ before you could even finish your sentence, two strong hands cupped your face and you felt his lips against yours, kissing you roughly as your eyes widened. What the hell. As a reflex, you pushed him away and looked at him with utter shock all over your face.
“What the fuck!” you blurted out. He swallowed hard, surprised by his own actions as his mouth slightly parted but words were barely coming out, “I- sorry, it’s just- I don’t know why I-“
Fuck it— this time it was you cupping his face, kissing him even more roughly than he did. You weren’t completely sure why. But you felt desperate for him and you couldn’t feel yourself able to pull away. He kissed you back and you slowly felt all the frustrations from the months prior subsiding with each passing second. You hadn’t realised how much you were longing for this until this very moment. And the kiss— it was the perfect combination of rage, passion and desperation.
After a while, he drew his head back slowly, gazing at you as he murmured, “I’m sorry for being such a dick”, the regret and guilt evident in his eyes. Holy shit. You had been waiting, hoping, for an apology for months, which you eventually gave up on since you were certain he wasn’t even capable of saying the word ‘sorry’ to anyone. Surprisingly though, you didn’t fucking care. You didn’t want to hear some sob story about how sorry he was. At least not now. All you needed at this moment was him. All of him.
“Just shut up and fucking kiss me” you pleaded before hungrily kissing him again. You could feel him smile against your lips while his hands travelled from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as you moaned into the kiss. He swiftly lifted you, causing you to let out a small squeal, and set you down on the table with his hands exploring your body. Even though you tried to enjoy this moment, there was still one question that you couldn't get out of your head.
“JJ, why do you dislike me so much?” You blurted out, separating your face from his as you met his blue eyes. He licked his lips, unsure how to answer your sudden question. “You really wanna know?” He asked. You nodded cautiously, not sure if you were ready for the answer. “Because…” he paused briefly before continuing, his eyes avoiding yours, “because I hate the way you’re so perfect and smart and cute but you… you are a fucking kook and we shouldn’t-“ “Awhhh.” you interrupted and he instantly looked up at you with wide eyes. “You think I’m cute, Maybank?” JJ rolled his eyes, but you could see a small smile appearing on his flushed face. “But I think… I feel the same way about you, JJ. I just wish you would’ve shown me it in a different way” you admitted, feeling your heart pound out of your chest at your confession. “Don’t worry. I will, now”
He gave you a quick peck on the lips before removing your shirt as well as yanking your shorts off. He paused for a moment to take in your beauty, eyeing you up and down with a smirk, revealing his dimple. He had been secretly fantasising about this for months— groaning your name as his hand slowly pumped down on his cock night after night, wishing it was you. But you looked better than he ever could’ve imagined. He was in awe. The more he looked at you, the more his boner was visible as harder and more prominent in his tight shorts. You could tell he was big even through his clothes.
His hand moved along your thighs as his eyes met yours, not breaking eye contact, his fingers hovering over your wetness. He pushed your panties to the side before dragging his fingers along your slit, causing you to bite your lip.
“This wet already? For me? That’s cute.” he said cockily, making you feel even more impatient. "Fuck you, JJ" you snarled. "Well, we're already on it, aren't we, sweetheart?”
Your mouth opened slightly and your head fell back as two fingers slowly entered you. After a moment of stillness, his fingers started moving inside you, curling up and hitting that one spot inside of you that caused you to grab his arm tightly, nails digging into his skin. It was odd— he knew exactly how to make you feel good, how to move his fingers and where to find your sweet spot as if he had done this a million times before. His fingers increased their speed as his mouth moved to your neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, baby. Lemme take care of you, show you how sorry I am.” He felt you clench tightly around his fingers the moment he whispered those words and he let out a chuckle. “Your praise kink is showing, pretty girl” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t have a- oh shut up” you felt your cheeks heat up as you looked him in the eyes and there it was— a smile. The first time the both of you smiled at each other— genuinely smiled at each other. For a split second, it felt like time stood still, but that didn’t last long when he continued moving his fingers and made you a moaning mess in front of him once again. You were so close to your release, and you were ready to let go when JJ suddenly withdrew his fingers from you, making you whine at the sudden empty feeling.
“Dickhead!” you yelped as you eyed him with an irritated look. “Not yet. I want you to come around my cock” he said as he placed his hands under your butt and lifted you, walking the both of you to the bedroom. To your surprise, he carefully lowered you onto the bed before giving you a kiss on the forehead. You weren’t used to this gentle and sweet side of him, but you savoured every moment of it, eager for more.
Your mouth opened slightly at the sight in front of you as he completely undressed, his boner slapping against his abs. He looked gorgeous— his abs were covered in sweat and his cock was dripping with precum. Your expectations were more than right— he was huge, the veins on his hard cock prominent, making your cunt ache.
He walked over to you, anticipation raging through your entire body. He kissed you roughly as he hovered over you, his hand moving slowly from your leg to your upper body, before unclasping your bra skilfully with one hand. He threw it across the room before his hand moved down to your panties, feeling yourself melt under his touch. He discarded you of your panties too before tossing them to the side as well.
He gazed at you as he placed his hand on the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You sure about this?” JJ asked one last time, wanting to make sure you were completely comfortable. “God, yes, please” you urged, not wanting to wait another second. He positioned himself between your legs before he pushed in in one quick thrust, causing you to moan out loudly. You felt so tight around his cock and it took everything in him to refrain himself from coming right then and there as his hands firmly gripped the sheets in an attempt to control himself.
“Fuck. You're so tight” JJ groaned as he started moving slowly, completely stretching you out. You took hold of his shoulders with all the might you had, fingernails dragging down his muscular back and low grunts leaving his mouth.
“Oh my god, f-feels so fucking good, J” you moaned out as you wrapped your legs around his torso, allowing him an angle to go even deeper. He gripped the headboard with one hand to support himself as his pace quickened, causing your eyes to flutter shut. You could feel his hot breath on your skin as he continued to pound into you at a brutal pace with his face merely inches away from yours.
“Gonna make you feel like this every day, princess, over and over again” he groaned, causing you to smile— suddenly, you didn’t mind him calling you princess anymore.
The pleasure was getting too much when his hand came down between your bodies to draw quick circles on your clit, your release nearing. You could sense he was close too, as his thrusts became sloppy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, holding him even closer to you as he kissed your neck. “Me too, baby, me too. Fuck. Cum for me”
You clenched around him when he hit that one spot inside you, shaking as you reached your high. A few more deep thrusts before he groaned in your ear, filling you to the brim with his warmth as you came all over his cock and moaned out his name loudly.
You were both attempting to catch your breath as he lingered inside you for a moment, admiring your beautiful, fucked-out face with a big smile. He eventually pulled out and lay down beside you, his eyes not leaving you.
“Still hate me?” You questioned, facing him.
“Oh, definitely” JJ replied with a smile as your brows furrowed, “Just as much?”
“Hmm…maybe…”, he said as he pinched his fingers, “a little less. But uh… I think round two can fix that”
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sidsinning · 2 months
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To expand on Lucifer's neglect more
Yes he loves Charlie dearly, yes he showers her with his love and affection and semi-approval ("it's uh...got a lot of character!") when he sees her after all these years for the first time, yes he is desperately trying to switch back her reliance on Alastor to reliance on him- all these feelings are real and strong when she's right in front of him
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-but when she isn't he is back in his own little world and rubber ducks. When he doesn't see Charlie in person she becomes white noise to him besides fleeting moments of courage and pining he gets to try and connect with her again. These are the moments where he regains a bit of clarity on just how fucked his family situation is.
He knows he has to maintain his connection with her somehow while also battling his own depression and urge to isolate and block off the rest of the world. They're in limbo of whether or not their relationship will finally be unrepairable, also expressed in how him and Lilith are not fully divorced, but still separated, with him still clearly loving her bc he still wears his wedding ring.
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I love him, I think his love for Charlie is stronger than anything in his life, and I know he'd do anything he could for her (besides the one thing she asked which is very unluckily directly connected to his trauma)
But it's true that he doesn't listen to her, doesn't keep up with how her life is going, and has remained estranged from her as a child through her adult life for years for whatever reason (smtg implied through this flashback we don't understand yet, and/or his mental health issues)
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For Charlie at this point, she's not a kid anymore, so just getting a call from him once in awhile is not enough if he still isn't addressing any of the issues that have built up between them, which has made her susceptible to being tricked by Alastor's empty words of praise and bonding
During Hell's Greatest Dad he isn't trying to address anything she's told him to, just trying to fix the surface level physical issues with the hotel to satisfy her- she looks uncomfortable the whole time he's trying to give her a sales pitch while smiling at everything Alastor says bc he is getting to her emotional needs, bc the bastard sees right through the father-daughter pair's issues
"I have angel powers! I can give you mountains of expensive things!"
"I'm always here for you! I'm so proud of you and all you've accomplished! We've grown so close bc I've always been by your side (unlike a certain someone 😇🐍🍎)"
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He's excited when she asks him to come over, and we're excited for him to finally see his daughter he seems to love so much who doesn't talk to him, but from their conversation it is very much shown that Charlie is the one who has been more desperate to remain connected to him. She always updates him on her life when she can and asks him if he's paying attention to her- which he doesn't. Leading to her disappointment and/or annoyance with only jobs for her or random calls where he talks about smtg irrelevant.
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I am a Lucifer stan through and through, but it is undeniable that he has not been a good dad despite being a good person. Now he's stepping up and reconnecting to Charlie again as she's fully accepting of him which is sweet.
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It's also nice to see that helping Charlie and reconnecting with her is what brings him true happiness in life- bc of his anxiety and trauma he avoids the thing he knows deep down is the underlying cause of his unhappiness- his distant family and confronting their fractured relationship
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So now that he's addressed a major part of the root of his depression, he stopped isolating himself, is being active, and given himself smtg productive to do, so his anxiety is down :)
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Helping Charlie addressed how broken hearted he was over his family splitting, and restored the faith in humanity and good he lost after he was banished from Heaven and failed to redeem sinners when he tried
Shshsjdjdkfk I just love the characterization we get in just 2 23 minute episodes, even though the pacing is undeniably insanely fast and I would have preferred more time to marinate in it- but what can you do about capitalism vs. artistic freedom
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heartss4val · 8 months
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but i love her !
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summary: to say that leo valdez is absolutely enamored with you would be an understatement. so, why don't you like him back?
pairing: leo valdez x fem!reader
word count: 2.3k
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LEO VALDEZ does not just like you. no, it is much more than that.
leo's feelings for you surpass mere affection. his love for you is deep-rooted and unshakable, transcending the limitations of the heart and mind. he doesn't just love you with his heart, which can falter or stop altogether. nor does he solely love you with his mind, which may fail him one day. no, leo valdez loves you with every fiber of his being, every inch of his soul, and every essence of his existence. his love for you is all-encompassing, unequivocal, and forever enduring.
so why don't you like him back?
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when you first arrived at camp, leo was immediately taken with you. while he had a reputation for falling for girls completely out of his league, this time was different. he knew deep down that he would do anything for you, even if it meant risking his own life. he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he realized this, but he was sure that you were the one he was meant to be with. despite piper's concerns, leo was undeterred in his pursuit of you.
as you sat at your usual table in the dining pavilion, enjoying dinner with your cabinmates, you were completely immersed in the moment. laughter filled the air as you chatted about your day and shared stories of past quests. just as you took a bite of your dinner, you heard your name being called out loudly and persistently. turning your head in the direction of the voice, you found leo standing right in front of your table. as you tried to recall any previous interactions with him, confusion washed over you. you've only ever spoken to the boy about a grand total of once, and you don't even remember giving him your name.
leo slipped into the empty seat next to you, his smile beaming as he waited for your reaction. gasps escaped the mouths of several of your cabinmates, because, well, isn't it forbidden to sit at another god's table?
“sooo, is this seat taken?” he asked suavely, and you mentally rolled your eyes at his attempt at charm, knowing exactly where this was going.
"well, it wouldn't matter if it's taken or not, because you aren't supposed to be sitting here in the first place."
he only smiled dreamily, seemingly unfazed by your response. the tension in the air grew thicker, and someone let out a snort, unable to contain their amusement at the situation.
it took you a moment to piece together what was happening. leo's sudden changes in behavior around you, the not-so-subtle glances, the smiles, and the way his eyes would light up - it all made sense now, although you didn't want to admit it. leo valdez had a crush on you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
leo leaned forward on the table, his chin resting on his hand. he was brimming with enthusiasm, and you couldn't help but feel just slightly uncomfortable in his presence. "can i ask you something?" he inquired eagerly, his eyes fixed on you.
you sighed inwardly, not wanting to engage but feeling obligated to respond. "do i have a choice?" you quipped, attempting to mask your discomfort. leo didn't seem to notice, too caught up in his own enthusiasm.
suddenly, he pulled out a metal rose from his pocket, presenting it to you with a flourish. "wanna be my girlfriend?" he asked, a hopeful expression on his face.
your siblings snickered around you as your eyes widened in absolute horror. your face felt hot with embarrassment as you struggled to maintain your composure.
"i practically just met you!" you protested, feeling the need to state the obvious.
he had clearly anticipated a different response, going so far as to prepare a metal bouquet in anticipation of impressing you. however, his efforts were in vain. "i'm sorry, but no." you replied firmly, not giving him any room for negotiation.
it was clear that this was not a successful attempt at romance.
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from that day on, it had become the norm for leo to actively pursue you, as he had made it his mission to win your heart. you couldn't deny that he put in a great deal of effort. and he was plenty consistent. for months.
you couldn't help but notice his constant presence, as he seemed to magically appear everywhere you went, making it impossible for you to ignore him.
despite his persistent efforts, leo never pressured you into anything you were not comfortable with. he respected your boundaries and always made sure that he did not cause you any discomfort. it was clear that he adored you, but he never allowed his feelings to dictate his actions towards you.
interestingly enough, it was the reason behind your initial hatred for leo that began to fade away. unfortunately for you, once that seed of doubt was planted, there was no going back. you found yourself unable to justify your previous animosity towards him, in fact, you began to feel guilty for the ill feelings you harbored towards the boy.
after leo's clumsy attempts at asking you out, things became quite awkward between the two of you. you did everything in your power to avoid him, convincing yourself that you loathed him. however, despite your best efforts to push him away, the universe seemed to conspire to bring the two of you together. in fact, you even found yourselves forming an unlikely bond that some might even consider a friendship. leo would somehow magically appear in the same places you happened to be (though he always insisted it was a coincidence), and you found yourself unable to shoo him away as you used to do. yet, despite this newfound closeness, leo's attempts to win your heart remained as elaborate and over-the-top as ever.
from writing your name in fire surrounded by a heart, to asking you out with grand gestures and signs, he never seemed to give up. unfortunately for him, all of his efforts were met with either an indifferent stare or a frown.
maybe your feelings towards leo had changed somewhat, but that did not make him any less unbearable.
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"i just don't get it!" leo complained to piper during free time that day. "i thought me and y/n were making progress, but today she didn't even look at me!"
piper paused from sharpening her dagger and looked up at leo. "what makes you think you were making progress?"
"she let me sit next to her yesterday."
piper couldn't help but let out a laugh, quickly covering it up with a cough. "that was for like two minutes," she scoffed.
leo's face fell. "but i swear i saw her wink at me a few days ago!" he protested.
"she was only blinking in your general direction."
leo mock-glared at the girl. "seriously, you're like an aphrodite kid, aren't you supposed to know this stuff?"
piper rolled her eyes. "shut up. okay, but seriously, come on. think about it. leo, you tend to get infatuated easily and your crushes never last. it's inconsistent. she probably thinks your feelings for her will change once you find someone new."
leo took a step back, not expecting her answer. "but that's not gonna happen!" he retorted, eyes wide with exasperation. "i love her, i swear!"
"prove it to her then." piper responded, running her fingers through her choppy locks. "go find her and prove it."
and that's exactly what he was going to do.
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it's been days since you last saw leo. the usual sight of him following you around, asking to hold your tote bag, or just plain flirting with you is now a distant memory. your tote bag, which he usually holds for you, is now slipping off your shoulder as you sit alone with a feeling of emptiness. you've only seen him run in and out of the workshop, waving at you with the same fire in his eyes but not speaking to you. you keep looking for his head of curly hair everywhere you go, but the inevitable disappointment strikes you every time it isn't him.
although you had been trying to deny it, the truth was that you missed leo terribly. despite his occasional obnoxious flirtations, he was actually quite easy to be around — even more than that, even. maybe you had developed feelings for him that ran much deeper than you ever anticipated. you've been grappling with your emotions for quite some time now, and you were certain that your mask of indifference had already slipped off without your knowledge. you slumped against the wall you were leaning on, feeling the weight of your emotions.
if leo were here, he would have moved you to somewhere you could sit more comfortably, instead of a damn wall. if leo were here, he would have taken your tote bag off your shoulder already, making sure you were not burdened with anything. the absence of his presence now makes you realize just how much he meant to you and how much you miss him.
you pushed yourself off the wall you were leaning against, making your way back to your cabin to sulk, when it happened.
you spotted leo approaching you. his strides were large and purposeful, and you could practically see the determination in his eyes. you could tell he had just emerged from the workshop, his face smeared with soot, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. before you could even react, he had his arms on your shoulders, shaking his head as he gasped for breath, clearly winded from whatever he had been up to. "i've been looking for you everywhere," he said urgently, not giving you a chance to respond.
"okay, look. you know i like you, y/n. you're not like anyone else i've ever met. you're kind, and smart, and funny, and beautiful. and i know that sounds like a lot of flattery, but it's true. i don't think i've ever met anyone who makes me feel the way you do. you make me feel alive, and happy, and.. stuff. and i don't wanna lose that. don't wanna lose you."
he took a deep breath, then continued, "i'm not going to pretend that it was always you, because i've liked other girls before, when i didn't really know what liking someone meant. what i felt for them is not even comparable to what i feel for you right now. it hasn't always been you, but from now on it will."
"i can tell you feel the same way too, even if you try to hide it. you always have a little grin on your face when i come around, and i know you still keep all the things i made for you in your cabin, even though you act like you don't care. but i get it, you're scared. that's okay. i'll prove to you that there's nothing to be afraid of. i'll be devoted and take on more responsibility, because you inspire me to try harder. if you could just give me one chance."
he took a couple steps closer, reaching for your hand, and intertwining his fingers with yours when you didn't pull away. looking deeply into your eyes, he adjusted his grip, his crooked grin indicating that he had rehearsed what he was about to say.
"i guess what i'm trying to say is..." he trailed off, and then pulled out a metal rose from his pocket, just like the one he had given you when he first asked you out. however, this one was special, its intricate patterns reflecting everything that reminded him of you.
"wanna be my girlfriend?" he asked, just like he had all those months ago.
you didn't even hesitate, you just pulled him in by the fabric of his shirt and slotted his lips with yours into a long-awaited, giddy kiss.
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a/n
ookaayyy it's been a while since i've read the books so leo may be a slightly ooc here?? or not?? y'all i don't know i'm trying. 😭😭
xx val
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smuthospital · 4 months
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⭐️Degrees of lewdly: Eden⭐️
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Premise: You're a spooky place youtube explorer, and you get lost in a big scary forest! Eden voorhees lol. Reader is fem. Enjoy!
Art by Minagami
Re-upload because tumblr took it down last time.
Content Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, tummy bulge, blood, Eden is Jason, Voorhees
Miners DNI
You've never really gone hiking before and it's proven itself to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought it would be. You like to explore places you've never been, spooky places. more for the thrill. you started filming it and posting your videos on youtube. You usually take some friends along, but all of your friends decided to be little babies this time since the place you're exploring is extra creepy this time. It's a large forest 20 miles away from your city. You borrowed your mom's car to get here. you always tell them you're at a friend's house because they'd kill you if they ever found out you're putting yourself in possibly harmful situations. This forest is known for creepy sightings, disappearances, ghosts, and lots of other things your viewers would love to watch. You've been to abandoned hospitals, cemeteries, tunnels, all that good stuff. You don't think you'll actually see anything, but you brought a can of pepper spray just in case.
The wind howls, making the trees dance above you. The shapes that were once branches in the day have turned into long gangly fingers that desperately reach for you and the bushes now house entities with red eyes and fangs that you imagine want to tear you to pieces! "Wow, guys. This might just be the scariest one yet, haha. There's probably some sort of scp in here with me haha!" You try to keep yourself company by talking to your soon-to-be viewers when you post this, but it's really just to keep you calm.
"I'm a bit lost. The trail kinda disappeared somewhere around here, I think. there's just so much long grass and it's more of a footpath than an actual trail." you complain as you try to spot any familiar landmarks. It's almost impossible. It might be easier in the day for sure, but the night masks everything. You step over decayed logs and large roots, feeling worry set in. What if you're really lost!? Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when you hear a strange sound not too far from where you're standing. Your blood freezes as you feel a cold sweat coming on. Maybe...maybe it's a person? And maybe they can help you?..or..a monster!? No, (Y/n), this is no time to be silly! That could be a person willing to help you before you get yourself completely lost!
Little did you know you were already a mile deep, walking in the wrong direction.
“I heard a sound. It could be someone who could help me get back on track.” You whisper. You turn off your video camera's flash light and carefully make your way to where you heard the sound, being careful not to step on anything that could alert whatever it is of your presence. You don’t want to startle it, just in case it's an animal willing to protect its territory from invaders like yourself. The sound came from below you. There's a rocky slope leading down to a river. You get down on your knees and peer between the long grass. You can't make out much in the dim moonlight... until you spot a giant of a man dragging a sack through the shallow water. His size alone sends shivers down your spine. Even from where you're crouching, you could tell he would dwarf you the way a cat would to a mouse. You examine him a bit more.The sack is stained in a dark colour that is seeping through the fabric and into the water. You don't dare move a muscle or even breathe. You can't believe your eyes. This can't be real. Are you in a horror movie?
You make sure he disappears behind the tree line with the mysterious sack before letting out a breath. You didn't want to accidentally alert him of your presence in any shape or form. He was probably just a hunter. Yeah, he could have helped you, but he also could have added you to the wet sack and you were not risking that.
You stand up and turn around, ready to get as far away from here as possible, only to bump your nose into a tree. The collision causes you to drop your camera. That's strange. You don't remember walking around a tree to look over the cliff. You rub your nose in annoyance. Wait a minute... This tree didn't have rough bark like the rest of them...Your brain blanks out. You've been in denial this entire time, your brain working extra hard to rationalize what's happening. Before you is a large torso. You can't even see their shoulders from how close you're standing, just a wide, firm chest. You crane your neck up and it takes you a good three seconds before your brain registers that you're looking at the man from before..and he's wearing a mask!
He looks down at you with a focused gaze. You let out a short scream and try to run away, but being within arm's reach of the giant makes it too easy for him to simply reach out and grab the back of your top. He lifts you off your feet with one arm and brings you to his eye level. He cocks his head to the side, observing you slowly. He looks down at the camera you dropped and places his large boot on it, pressing down and crushing it. You start to hyperventilate. He's gonna chop you up and wear your skin, he's gonna keep you in a dark hole and shout "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" You thrash in his iron grip, pushing at his large hand and sobbing untellable pleas for mercy, but your begging falls on deaf ears. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll leave, I promise! Please let me go! I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry!" You cry. Your little struggle seems to have made your shirt ride up a bit, showcasing your supple flesh to his thirsty eyes. His eyes laser focus on your bare skin.
To your confusion, his hand reaches to caress your skin, feeling the smooth texture before slowly moving up. You wiggle more, scared of where this is going. His hand soon finds your breast and cups it before giving it a squeeze. He shudders. His breathing becomes heavier as he continues to mess with your body, his thumb rolling over your nipple. All you can do is whimper and wiggle in his hold. his hand begins sliding down and you scream. You suddenly remember you brought a can of pepper spray, whipping it out of your back pocket and pointing it at his face. Then as you were about to press down and unleash the fire juice, it was gone. In his hand that was previously molesting you lies the remains of your poor pepper spray, crushed and bubbling pathetically. He was so fast you hadn't even realized he snatched it. You just stare at him in horror. To your surprise, he's not even mad, too preoccupied with the need to explore your privates. You hold his wrist and look into his eyes. He looks back into yours as if telling you to stop. You hesitantly let go, and he nods as if to tell you that you've made the right decision. His hand cups your pussy through your jeans, pressing in a bit at the entrance. He seems eager.
He lifts you higher and uncomfortably sets you on his shoulder, his hand on your ass to keep you in place. You don't even bother struggling. You'll wait for an opportunity. If this man wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You don't want to provoke him. From your spot on his shoulder, You notice that he's got a hunting rifle strapped to his back along with a machete. He has an assortment of things attached to his hips among them being a hunting knife and bullet pocket. You shiver. One more off-putting thing that's just about forcing bile up your throat is that he's also covered in a dark wet liquid. You haven't noticed till now, but you haven't been breathing so his smell has now come to your attention. He smells strongly of iron. To that, you're not very surprised.
He starts marching down the hill you were previously watching him from. You have no idea how you saw him disappear through the treeline and he still managed to sneak up on you. He picks up the large stained sack where he left it in favor of locating his little spying mouse. It smells awful, the meaty smell assaulting your senses every second. It's been 15 minutes and an opportunity to escape has not shown itself. This is it. This is how you die. Your body will never be found. Maybe in a few years in a shallow grave by some hiker if you're lucky. This inhuman mass of muscle is going to cut you up and eat you. Maybe even skip cutting you up. He could probably eat you whole as pre-workout. He lifts his leg to step over a large log, his grip on your ass slightly loosening just enough for you to catch him off guard and slip off his shoulder. You grunt as you fall into the dirt and leaves behind him. You scramble up before the giant can scoop you up. You run in a random direction. You just needed to get away from him, getting out of the forest was a problem for later. You didn't even think about how fast he'd be. How could someone be so big and fast!? He took off after you and suddenly, he was on your ass. You've never felt such a primal fear as he chased you like a hungry animal.
A large hand grabs your shoulder and rips you backwards. You fall on your back and stare up at the man now on his knees in front of you, his body completely casting a shadow before yours. He gets down on his hands, caging you too the ground, his body inches above yours. You stare into the holes of his mask and into his rabid eyes. He leans in by your neck. You stop breathing once again, you think your heart stopped. You feel something large and hard pressing roughly into your crotch. You hear him take a deep breath and smell you..."Smells nice." His voice is deep and rough, but it sounds like he rarely uses it. You scream and begin to cry again, not being able to take it anymore. You fight him with all your might. He grabs your wrists with one hand. You hear him chuckle a bit before his hand comes up to cup your check. He suddenly squeezes it and twists your face around to get a better look at your features. He grinds his hips against yours, teasing you of what's to come. He roughly releases your face, before standing to his full height and dragging you up with him. He tosses you back over his shoulder, this time with an almost bone-crushing grip. “Name.” His tone is commanding. When you fail to answer right away, his fingers press into the area on your crotch. Threatening to rip right through. “(Y/n)! My name is (Y/n)!” He hums in response.
Hot tears run down your cheeks as he walks back over to where he left his murder mystery sack. He navigates through the forest as he knows it like the back of his hand until he comes upon a clearing where his home stands. A lonely wooden cabin. He drops the gooey meat bag on the ground. You cringe at the wet sound it makes on impact. You peer over at the sack to see a human hand flop out. Before you could react, he slams his hand over your mouth painfully. "Shut up." He waits for you to nod before removing his hand. He opens his front door and steps inside. It smells musty, like old wood and man smell. Not bad, but not amazing either. He walks up his stairs and sets you on a very large bed. You take a deep breath in, your stomach sore from being jabbed by his shoulder for the entirety of the long walk.
He doesn't let you get comfortable though. His hands are on you in an instant, grabbing your clothes and ripping them to shreds like tissue paper, you're naked before you could even hold any of your clothes together. Hungry eyes leer over you through his mask. You feel his hot breath fan you through the bottom of his mask. "S-stop it, please! Don't hurt me!" You beg. As if to mock your plea, his rough hand grips your plush thigh a little too close to your cunt and squeezes it tightly before shoving it against your chest, making room for himself between them.
He releases you for a moment, only to unzip his uncomfortably tight pants. You shut your eyes and look away, only to feel the soul-crushing weight of his cock slam against your lower stomach. You writhe underneath him, small sobs and hiccups coming from your mouth every few seconds. He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides to continue. You peer up between your wet palms and see him rubbing the tree trunk between his thighs while looking down at your pathetic form.
"W-wait! I-I'm not rea-" He grabs your thighs and forces you closer to him and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slides it up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. He doesn't care if you're ready or not. You shut your eyes as he presses forth. You scream in pain. It won't go in. You're too tight, he's too big and you're dry. The tip can't even get through. You whimper in pain. It burns. You need moisture. He lifts his mask a bit and you get a peek of his jaw. It's noticeably sharp and covered in stubble. You feel his saliva plap against your poor dry cunt before he puts his mask back into place. He tries to enter you again. You yelp. He gets a bit through before he can't anymore. He sighs. He was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to break you so quickly...
He grips your thighs tightly. You feel his nails dig in. You barely have time to register the pain before you feel like you're being ripped in two. He's forcing his way in. You immediately let out a scream and begin spazzing. He just continues until he reaches his base, more than snug against your insides. Drool leaks past the corner of your lip as you stare off into space. He breathes heavily and stares at the bulge he created in your lower stomach. He brushes his hand over it and watches as you whimper and twitch. He pulls his hips back and watches it disappear before ramming himself in again and seeing it jab through your insides. He chuckles.
You lay there, unable to do anything but feel what he's doing to you. You lift your arm and place it on his lower stomach, hoping to stop him that way. You feel his rock-hard abs through his shirt and push. "You're...adorable...fuck.. you're tight." He groans before he slams himself deep inside and you clench around him. He hisses and struggles to pull out halfway, your insides trying to pull him back in. He slams in again and presses himself as deeply as he can, firmly hugging your cervix with his cock. Your eyes cross as he thrusts in and out, keeping a proper pace. Moans spill from your lips along with jumbled-up words he can't make out, all of which sound like music to his ears.
He leans over you, forcing himself snugly against you again, his mask right next to your cheek. He groans as he feels you twitch around him. "Feel..so good... was worried you'd rip... you're only bleeding a little." You can hear the smug grin in his tone.
It feels so good. You're so ashamed, feeling good when you're being raped by a maniac. You clench your tear-filled eyes as he pounds into your aching cunt. The knot in your lower stomach bursts as you cum. He moans as you tighten around him. He stills for a second, just enjoying how you feel before he pounds into you like a feral beast. You're surprised your pelvis is holding up. He grips your waist tight and grunts as he empties his balls deep inside you. You can almost feel yourself getting pregnant. You feel too full. Your stomach bloats with cum. You feel hot and fuzzy. Your pussy is so very sore and your legs are numb. He pants above you. "I've been thinking of getting myself a little wife like you." He says as he slowly pulls his still throbbing cock out with a wet 'pop'. "You're a pretty little thing and you take my cock well. Be grateful I'm letting you live as my cock sleeve." He stands up, towering over your crumpled body once again. "My name is Eden. Your duties from now on are cooking, cleaning, mending my clothes and taking my seed. Do not make me repeat these orders. Object and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place. I was gentle this time." His giant cock is still dripping your juices. You can't stop looking at it. Ge takes notice and climbs over you before grabbing your head and forcing you close to his groin. "I see you love cock. Lick it clean then like a good wife. go on."
You look up at him and hesitate a bit too long. You see anger flash in his eyes and you quickly envelop his tip in your mouth. He groans as you lick your mixed juices off, going as deep as you can without choking. He moans and grabs the back of your head. He stares down at you with such intensity that you can feel him burning holes into you. You suddenly feel your throat being invaded and your nose pressing into his pubic hair, nose pressing into his crotch. He moves you back and forth, face fucking you. You struggle to breathe properly through your nose. You let out muffled whimpers and cries, sending vibrations through his cock. He grunts in pleasure before you feel a load of hot thick liquid being shot into your mouth and down your throat. You're so tired. He slowly pulls his cock back and laughs at your exhausted state. Your head flops back onto the bed, your jaw and lips so incredibly sore and raw feeling. "Good girl." He says before your sight fades to black. You explored a bit too much.
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
Text
💕🩰
I'm sorry but I just know that Price has a breeding kink🥴
mdni 🎀 nsfw below the cut
Price has always, despite his situation, considered himself a family man, and with not only the added financial benefits of being boosted up to the SAS, but also the flexibility of being a captain, there's a yearning for something to come home to. So, when he finally marries someone that makes coming home more anticipatory than leaving in the first place, he can't help but finally feel fulfilled. Almost.
There's something missing though. Something that he can't help but yearn for. He's seen the way his fellow soldiers look at their partners with babies slung on their hips or bellies swollen with pregnancy, and he can't help but feel so selfishly jealous. He knows he shouldn't, knows that he should feel grateful for all of the goodness that she's bought into his life, that he's got the privilege of coming home alive, let alone alive, and to a beautiful woman willing to sink down on her knees for him and worship his cock like he's more god than mere man. Despite this, he wants more, and always finds himself feeling like Icarus inching that much closer to the sun with every good thing he gets.
"I want a baby." He growls into your ear whilst his cock is buried to the hilt inside your slick cunt, fingers interlocked and his baby blues burning vehemently into your own. He's long stilled his thrusts to capture your attention, and by the way your tits bob slightly with the movement of a deep inhale pulled in and held, followed by a little ragged puff of air back into his face, he can tell that you're listening. "You want a baby?" The waver in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by either of you, the almost imperceptible squeeze of your fingers around Johns igniting a spark of hope in his long thawed heart. "I want a baby. With you."
"Now?"
"Now."
"What about your work?"
"I've already sorted it."
John sees the way your brain short circuits at not only his words, but also the encouragingly slow snap of his hips as he thrusts up against your cervix, the hair of his chest brushing against your already sensitive nipples as he keeps at his languorous pace, waiting for you to give him an answer before he stuffs you full of his cum and doesn't let you get up through fear of potentially wasting even a drop of his seed.
"Please, darling. Fuck." He grunts as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes glossed over as you zone out, imagining a future with you and the man you love, and your children - child, even - maybe a dog for good measure. "You're sure you're ready?" You whisper, feeling the distinct prickling of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. "S' all I want."
"Okay."
And with that, John's warm hand settles at the back of your neck, fingers curling into the roots of your hair whilst his free arm supports his position over you. Every time the weeping tip of his cock slams up into the plug of your womb and leaves your eyes rolling shut, he yanks gently on your hair, just enough to jerk your head back to look at his almost animal expression, growling about how he wants to look his wife in the eye when he fucks her full of his kids. He's entirely merciless as he spears you open on his cock, hitting the spot that makes your walls flutter desperately around him with every thrust, huffing in your ear when you drag your nails down his back at the mention of how fucking sexy you'll look all soft and swollen with his baby. You both know he won't be stopping at one.
You cum almost shamefully around his cock when he grabs a handful of the plush flesh of your boobs, dropping kisses down the column of your neck until his nose rests against your collarbone, keening out from both the physical and mental overstimulation. John rides you through it, leaving his tip brushing against your cervix as he finishes himself, before rolling you over with his cock still plugged inside, not wasting any of his cum as you lay there panting on his chest whilst his lips press to the top of your head before whispering in your ear:
"So I was thinking green for the nursery?"
ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ
quick lil something because I literally have no ideas of what to write oops 🤭
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very-feral-lesbian · 1 year
Text
eddie may not have been buddy-buddy with steve in high school, but as most nerds are, he was observant. despite the attention he got from the jocks, he generally managed to stay in the background, watching the reality show that was the jocks of hawkins high.
because of that, he knew that steve was complimented on any and everything physical.
"steve, your hair is so amazing, what do you use?" "you're so handsome, steve" "steve has such a good body, nancy is so lucky"
he knew that non-skin-deep compliments were a rarity for steve.
within their group, steve was often made fun of for being stupid or airhead. eddie knows that it mostly comes from love, often dustin or robin being the root of it. he knows they mean no actual harm by their comments but eddie could see its impact on steve.
after the vecna situation, the impact of the past few years on steve became increasingly physically apparent. there were scars covering his body now more than ever, snaking around up arms, torso and legs, and the most obvious being the one around his neck.
eddie shared many of these scars with steve. the suspiciously matching ones across their chests and arms a bonding point between the two of them. dating post-vecna and bat bites wasn't that easy.
unless your partner shared nearly identical scars (emotional and physical) with you.
to eddie, the scars were badass. he thought his own scar just proved to be physical memoirs of his near-death experience. generally, he didn't think much of them.
but steve didn't have nearly as easy of a time with his scars. everything that steve had ever been congratulated for, had changed.
the base of his neck has been impacted by throat scar, the hair there obliterated by the scar tissue. his chest had deep gashes, thick scars that would never heal. he wasn't even able to play sports anymore, his body worn down from internal damage courtesy of vecna.
steve thought this made him a failure, it made him feel like a shell of himself.
but god damn if eddie wasn't set out to shut steve's shit down.
he tried to do a lot of the obvious things to make steve be less self-deprecating. lots of physical affection between the two of them; eddie often intimately tracing scars or pressing kisses to the base of steve's neck or the scars on his arms.
or sometimes it meant brushing their teeth at the same time so steve didn't spend the entire two minutes staring at his shirtless chest and working himself into an unhealthy headspace. eddie would spend the entire time clumsily talking around the toothbrush in his mouth, usually rating about a gig or his newest campaign.
but eddie also made a conscious effort to compliment steve on things outside of his appearance. because steve was hot, obviously, but he was a catch in many other ways.
steve had taken up cooking recently, finding joy in cooking for their group. and he was good at it, so eddie wasn't lying when he said, "fuck this is good babe" or "damn if i wasn't already sleeping with you, this pie would make me want to"
eddie knew that nothing he did could heal steve's physical scars, but he was doing what he could to remedy the emotional ones
5K notes · View notes
seeingivy · 4 months
Text
the beach
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting fic
an: 14k. buckle in. song mentioned is sparks by coldplay!
previous part linked here
--
to sukuna’s mother
eren: we’ll be there at five am. 
lana: OH ITS HAPPENING 
sukuna: did she slap you? 
lana: DID SHE KISS YOU? 
eren: she cried a bunch while watching it. and she hasn’t said much…she’s just been staring out the window of the airplane blankly
lana: oh that’s not-
sukuna: AHAHAHAHAH
lana: well, anyways. we’ll wake up for you.
sukuna: she’ll be fast asleep. i will wake up for you. 
eren liked a message 
The second Eren closes his phone, he looks to his left to find your pink, teary eyes looking at him and immediately pales. Your eyes are positively red at this point, an itchiness settling in his throat at the sight of it. 
“I’m sorry. Did you say something?” he asks. 
“No.” you murmur. 
Eren pauses. 
“Did you want to say something?” he asks. 
He watches you pause, almost like you’re mulling over the question. He supposes that it was quite stupid for him to ask, because if it were him in your spot, he probably would have talked your ear off for every little detail. 
“You can ask me anything you want. I’ll tell you the truth, I promise.” Eren adds. 
You give him a halfhearted nod, before looking back out at the window, at the little lights glittering amidst the clouds beneath. It’s like being asked to pick up each grain of sand on a vast, mile long beach. Almost impossible. 
“I don’t even know where to start, Eren.” you murmur. 
Eren gives you an understanding nod before yanking out his laptop before setting it flat in your lap. You swallow hard, knowing fully where he thinks you should begin. With that USB that’s been burning in your pocket, ever since he handed it back to you at the house. 
Of Eren’s interview, on the Life in Love podcast. 
Eren leans into your space, handing you one of the earphones that you settle into your ear, as you press the little play button at the bottom of the screen. The video starts - Eren and Lana sitting with the chunky headphones on their ears - with the interviewer sitting in between them. 
“We’ll start with you, Eren. Have you ever been in love?” the interviewer asks. 
You watch as Eren’s face splits into a bright smile, surely one that was echoed on your face too the day after the beach, as you feel a twinge in your chest. That whenever you saw clips of the interview, they filled you with such intense, deep rooted hatred for Eren that all you saw was red. 
And that he didn’t even deserve one fraction of it. 
“Yes. Of course, I have.” he responds. 
“The person that you’re most associated with, Eren, is your co-star, Y/N L/N, from Attack on Titan. Can you comment on that, on what it’s like to have your first love be something so public?” the interviewer asks. 
Eren sighs, before he leans back in his chair. 
“First love is a funny way to describe it, when it almost feels like it’s more than that? I know a lot of people like to assume things and we’ve never said it publicly, but we did date. Obviously. She’s basically been scored on my heart since the second I met her in my chemistry read, but we ended up officially dating around season three of Attack on Titan. But it’s almost like that concept or notion is too trivial to explain what I even felt for her. She was never just my girlfriend or just my best friend.” 
“Was it one of those…acting became too real situations?” the interviewer asks. 
“I guess that you could say that. We had originally started, I guess, thinking that way when we started doing our character work. It was a whole thing we did together, while we were filming Attack on Titan. Method acting. The reason Y/N and I act so well in Attack on Titan, and win awards from it, is because we had started doing it outside of it too.” Eren responds. 
“Can you elaborate?” the interviewer asks. 
“We had started by kind of putting ourselves in that headspace, off of the set, in order to feel more connected to our characters, their relationship together. I think one of the things about Attack on Titan that makes it so compelling is the fact that my co-stars and myself, not to pat myself on the back, put time and effort into translating our characters into something that is real for us.” Eren states. 
“It’s also something that you kind of just possess as an actor with certain co-stars. Some movies, like rom-coms or drama pieces, just function and work so well because you have that chemistry with the person whose on the other side. And make no mistake, Eren and Y/N aren’t short of any chemistry themselves.” Lana responds. 
“What it is about her that struck you really differently, Eren? Clearly the two of you have a special relationship that you haven’t really been able to replicate else place, certainly not with Hyla Clarkson, for example? I mean, if you’re comfortable, you can share what you told me before you we started recording.” the interviewer states. 
A searing, red hot anger flares through you, at how friendly, how approachable the interviewer seems. The fact that they’re purposely trying to make him feel safe, just to later edit the words as they see fit. 
“Make no mistake, what I have with Hyla Clarkson is like that thing thing that Y/N had with Ricky James. We all have managers, we all get asked to do things that we don’t exactly want to do. I guess that’s the part that people don’t really understand, when they find out about PR relationships. That it seems so morally wrong. But we’re all actors, we’re all part of the entertainment industry - it’s almost like it’s part of the job to do these types of thing. And at that point, Y/N and I weren’t dating and I have strict managers, so…” Eren states. 
“Are you saying that your relationship with Hyla Clarkson wasn’t real?” the interviewer asks. 
“The first time she kissed him he threw up on the other side of a yacht. Do you think his relationship with her is real?” Lana asks, earning a laugh from the two of them. 
“It’s kind of hard to wrap your head around. But we do these things, pretend a little. It’s basically like we’re acting all the time. None of that chemistry, or that character is there. I don’t even think I could ever really like her like that. And it’s not like the relationship I have with Y/N. You asked me why she was different than everyone else? It’s easy. I’ve never met anyone else like her. I’ve never had a relationship like the one I’ve had with anyone else.” 
Eren sighs, nervously knitting his fingers togther, before he talks again. 
“I grew up with this backdrop, of this really fractured relationship with my brother. I was always told as a kid that my family, that the people around me who were real, were the things that were going to keep me tethered to my real life. That if I choose to do this, that I’ll be in the public eye, that people will say things, and it’ll be on me to build trust. To choose the right people.” Eren starts. 
“It was already so jarring to feel like I couldn’t trust my own brother, that my only family didn’t want me. And Y/N…she just kind of walked into my life and there was something so earnest about her. She felt like family basically the second, or third time I had talked to her. She was just something so real. And I’m not sure if it’s because she had a normal childhood, if she came into this on her own or what, but she always got to give me that dose of reality, of realness that I had always craved.” he continues. 
“She was really gentle with me. Always quick to wipe my tears away, to give me support, that felt more full and honest than anyone else. Some part of her made me feel like a real person. I’d always be in my own head, convincing myself that I was made up sometimes, that my feelings were manufactured, that I was just putting on a front for everyone, but I never really felt that way with her. She’s always seen past that, always seen me, in our relationship. Even when we were just friends.” Eren finishes. 
“And that’s just a quality that she naturally possesses. The first time she met me, she basically had no reason to have any trust, to have any good conviction of me. But by the end of the third or fourth day I knew her, I basically felt like the girl had seen right through me. All the way down to my core. And of course, all she saw was good. That’s how she is. I think for people like Eren and I, who naturally think so rotten of ourselves, someone like Y/N, whose so determined in how she shows her love, you almost….start to love yourself too. It’s not something that’s isolated to her, but it’s definitely something rare. People like Y/N and like Marco Bodt…that type of thing is just a part of them.” Lana states. 
“That’s wonderful to hear, especially from you. Y/N has an interesting track record with her own friends, like Historia and Jean and Mikasa that many people have pointed out before. That there’s a part of her that’s conniving, that she uses those around her to get to the top. Is that ever something you’ve noticed, Lana? Especially as someone who would be in competition with her, as a singer-songwriter yourself.” 
“Absolutely not. I think she has drive and ambition and I think that people confuse that with being conniving or competitive. Her existence means that people are going to put her against me or Historia, but that’s just because we’re women. That has nothing to do with something that’s isolated to Y/N and more with people who are just shitty and can’t see two women succeed at once.” Lana states. 
“She’s very focused on her craft - any role, any song she writes - they’re so deeply personal and authentic. That’s why she is so successful, why people covet after her so bad. I don’t consider myself to be in competition with her at all. And if I actually thought I was, I don’t think I would even last a day.” Lana continues.
“That’s something I’ve always admired about her. You’re in competition - and people are putting you there, against people you love - and you have that thing you really want, you’ll do anything to get it. There’s a mentality that people get about it. There’s only one person who ends up on a pedestal and if you have to kick people off to get there, that’s what it is. But she never, ever, put her own friends at stake in ways that she could to do that. I mean all of those rumors about Historia were coming out and she wrote dorothea of all songs, about how important their relationship is always going to be her.” Eren states. 
“You have to hold onto those type of people around you, in this type of industry, when you find them.” Lana states. 
“Good thing for me, then. I never intend to let go.” Eren adds. 
The interviewer smiles, turning to the camera, before talking again. 
“Eren’s prepared a song for us, his first in a while, that he’s going to perform for us live. What’s the song called, Eren?” 
“Sparks.” 
“Any hints to what it’s about?” 
“It’s quite obvious.” Eren responds. 
Lana starts strumming on the guitar, as Eren sings and those godawful tears of yours return. You loop your arm through Eren’s free one on your side, entirely jarred by how calm Eren is watching the interview. At how he’s not a mess, a ruin, like you are at seeing this. 
My heart is yours It's you that I hold on to Yeah, that's what I do
And I know, I was wrong But I won't let you down Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I will, yes, I will
Yeah, I saw sparks Yeah, I saw sparks And I saw sparks
The video ends, as you wipe the wetness away on your cheeks and look over at Eren on your side. You lean your head on Eren’s shoulder, unable to look at his piercing green eyes, as he returns the favor and leans his head on top of yours. You try to figure out how to broach it - this big mess of questions in your head - but it seems that Eren saves you from figuring that out and talks first. 
“You said the other day on set you wanted to know why I want on that podcast and said what I did. You wanted to know if I still cared about you…do you know now?” Eren asks, his words so slow and careful. 
“Is it idiot day?” you ask. 
“Huh?” 
“Is it idiot day? Do you really think I’m still sitting here being mad at you? You….” 
You reach forward to cup the side of his face, brushing the softness on his cheek. 
“I have a hundred things I have to say to you. I-I don’t want to speak wrong. Can you give me a second?” you ask. 
Eren smiles, lifting his hand to place it over where yours is on his cheek. 
“I made you wait like…three years. I think I can wait a second for you, Margaret.” Eren whispers. 
You frown, nodding as Eren places his hand on your head and leans it back onto his shoulder. 
“Thanks, Bruce.” you murmur back. 
“Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.” Eren repsonds. 
--
It’s only when the two of you are walking up the cobblestone path, barely illuminated by the light of the rising sun, that you realize that Eren’s brought you back to the same beach house that the two of you had visited before. 
In the past twenty four hours (the ones you’ve been awake for anyways), the only thing that seems to be replaying in your mind is that night. Because every action of Eren’s that you’ve doubted seems painfully obvious now. The song he wrote, the way he insisted that the two of you were real people, only together. 
That Eren gave you so many signs. And that you didn’t know how to read them. 
The salty air stings at your nose as Eren pulls up the mat, pocketing the key placed under it, and giving you a smile. 
“Isn’t that really dangerous? To keep a key under their mat when they live so…out in the open?” you ask. 
“Sukuna put it there for me. And no one knows they live here. This is technically Lana’s brother’s house, so they never really suspected it.” Eren offers, shoving the key into the lock as he twists the knob open. 
You and Eren quietly set your bags by the door, making it a point to tip toe in the early hours of the morning only to pad into the main room to find Lana standing near the counter, cracking eggs into the bowl. 
“Oh my god! Don’t tell me that Lana No Middle Name Price is awake at a normal hour of the day?” Eren deadpans, giving her a jeering smile as she all but drops her little spatula and runs over to hug him. 
You watch the two of them, the way Eren seems more calm in his demeanour now, as the two of them lean against the counter and talk. His shoulders are more relaxed, the softest of smiles on his face while Lana looks unlike you’ve ever seen her. 
Her hair is extremely short, barely secured into a ponytail at the back of her neck with a pink ribbon. But even more than that, it’s something about her smile, the way her eyes are glimmering that it fills that gaping hole that’s been burning in your chest with the smallest warmth as you watch the two of them. 
“Sukuna’s going to get mad when you burn those cookies.” Eren states. 
“I’m not going to burn the cookies, Eren. That was one time.” she responds. 
“You almost fed your son a carcinogen. And burned the house down. Also, we all inhaled a lot of smoke so you probably ruined our lungs for all we know-” 
Lana lightly smacks him straight across the face, as he laughs and immediately swats her hands off. The two of them continue that way - pushing and shoving each other like siblings - until Lana pushes Eren a little bit too hard and he backs up into you. 
Eren immediately looks back, his hands on your shoulders as he stables your wobble, and you shoot him a grateful smile. It’s only then that Lana notices you standing there, at the front of her little kitchen, and you shoot her a smile. 
Lana’s quick to run to your side and give you a hug - the pressure on your body so tight that you can feel her squeezing that little burden of hurt that’s been sitting in your chest. Lana makes no move to let go, as you quickly deflate into her arms and start sniffling into her shoulder, immediate warm tears sparking in your eyes as her hands rub circles into your back. 
“We’ll talk, Tinky Winky. About all of it, okay?” she whispers. 
You give her a nod, as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You follow the two of them into the kitchen, as Lana continues to roll the little cookies into circular shapes. 
“Eren. Go away.” Lana states. 
“Wow. Is this how you repay me? After I take care of your son?” 
“He is your godson. You should be happy to take care of him. And they just left for their walk not that long ago, you can catch up.” Lana states. 
“Sukuna is a speedwalker. They’re probably long gone.” Eren whines. 
“Eren. Respectfully, get out of my house. Go sit on the beach and stare at the water like the little freak that you are and let me talk to Y/N in private.” Lana states. 
“I do not-!” 
“Yes, you do. Y/N, I swear to god, he sat out there everyday and we had to drag him back in like we were pulling an anchor out of the sea. Now get out.” Lana states. 
Eren sticks his tongue out, before shooting you a warm smile and padding out onto the sand. You stick your hand into the bowl, rolling the cookies into little circles with her as you give her a smile. 
“Cute ribbon.” you murmur. 
“I wore it for you. A Y/N classique.” Lana responds. 
You smile in response, as the two of you continue to roll the batter and decide what you want to talk about first. And just like Eren, she bites the bullet for you first. 
“Sukuna’s here. He’s just on a walk right now with Teddy.” 
You smile to yourself, the thought of it filling you with an immense amount of joy. 
“Do they do that often?” 
“Every day. Teddy’s quite the insomniac and wakes up extremely early. Sukuna lets me sleep in a little and takes him on a little walk along the beach. Says that they need their father son bonding time.” she muses. 
“I remember that about him. Theodore or Teddy, I mean. When Eren brought me here, in the dead of night, he was awake. With your brother, making cookies.” 
She smiles, setting the little tray in the oven, as she gestures for you to follow her onto the couch. 
“Theodore, huh? Eren did tell me he had quite the crush on you back then.” Lana states. 
“Huh?” 
“He doesn’t really go by Theodore. Eren and I call him Teddy and Sukuna calls him Theo, but…Theodore just feels a little bit too formal. He only uses it for really important people. Like you. And when he starts talking to Elsa on the TV screen.” 
“I’m glad I’m keeping such important company.” you respond. 
You laugh, hiking your knees to your chest as you decide to bite the bullet full on. 
“Lana….Ricky isn’t in his life, right?” you whisper. 
She gives you a nod, placing one of her hands on yours, as she gives you a warm smile. 
“No. Thankfully, he’s never even met Teddy. And he’s not going to.” 
“Does he know about him?” you ask. 
“Yeah. I had told him, a few weeks after it happened. When I started showing. And you know how he is…he wanted me to have an abortion and be done with it. But I…I couldn’t go through with it.” Lana states. 
She sighs, cracking her knuckles. 
“I know it seems weird. I really do hate Ricky, everything about him, but Teddy isn’t really…his in my mind. And-” 
“He’s your son. And Sukuna’s. I wasn’t even thinking that. And…and even if I was, you don’t need to explain yourself to me of all people.” you respond. 
Lana scoots closer to you on the couch, as she leans her head on your shoulder and you place yours on top of hers. 
“I kind of saw it as my way out for some time. LIke, I was so deep in with everything and all the people that we were working with. It would have never been acceptable to take a break, not unless I had to take one. And I’m not saying that I had him because I wanted to get away from work, but to me…it just kind of felt like a sign. I got to crank the brakes.” 
“I’m sure it was good for you, in ways that you might not even know about yet.” 
“I think he saved my life, Y/N. I was so deep in that shitty, self-absorbed bubble of the industry and how it is and he just…reminded me other things were more important. He took his first steps and he’s learning how to play the piano…his entire world is confined to what movie we’re going to play after lunch. Who's going to tuck him into bed at night. That’s how life should be. And that’s always how I wanted mine to look. Soft, calm.” 
You smile, squeezing one of her hands interlocked with yours. At the thought of Lana, wishing for this exact future when she was a kid, only to have it now. That she fought nail and tooh for it, but still got to have it. 
“I would have told you about Teddy. About everything. But I wanted to keep it as under wraps as I could and-” she starts. 
“You are entitled to share your secrets with whoever you want. You don’t owe anything to me.” you state. 
“I know. But just know, it’s not because I didn’t trust you. You mean the world to me, in more ways than you could ever possibly know.” Lana states. 
You shake your head dismissively, as she quickly brushes you off. 
“No, really. Eren and I…I know it can be really hard to understand why we did what we did. Why we kept so much but from you. But we grew up in this type of thing. It seems difficult to confront these things head on, when they’re basically what your whole lives have revolved around.” Lana states. 
“I get that. But…you guys seem fine doing it now? Especially with the documentary and all, I guess I just…wish I knew earlier. Could have helped you both to this point sooner. I feel shitty because you did it all on your own and you didn’t have to.” 
Lana smiles. 
“You know we only did that because of you, right? The documentary.” 
“You mean Eren.” 
“No. I mean Connie. Me. Sukuna, even. And you know how…private he is. But we did it because of you. You’ve always reminded us, in your own ways, not to take shit from people. And at this point, we don’t really have anything to lose. Only things to gain. Like you back in our life. Control over our lives again.” 
“You guys are building me up into this big thing I’m not. I hid out for two years because I was too scared to confront everything. I ignored all of you because it was easy for me to do. I’m far from this big..confrontational person you think I am. And I’m definitely not as good of a friend or supporter to you all like you think I am.” you murmur. 
“Or…you just think too little of yourself. You went through something big, traumatic even. So did we. It’s no shit that Eren was special to you, so of course the loss of him was going to be big. And you also had your fucking life’s work stolen from you, which is nothing small, Y/N.” 
“I guess.” 
“One of the biggest, most important things that Eren has taught me was having grace. Don’t ever tell him that because you already know how big his fucking head is. But…there’s a lot of patience that you have to have with yourself to get yourself out of that headspace. I lived there for years. And it is so not feasible for you, Y/N. At the end of the day, you’re still someone in our lives whose stood for the right things. And you still have that impact, even if you feel like that’s not what you’re doing right now. You don’t always have to be one thing to be the same person. Who you are, who you’ve always been, won’t ever change.” 
You swallow hard. 
“So you missed a few days? There’s another one tomorrow, Y/N. You lost a few years with Eren? That doesn’t matter because he’s still always going to be there for you.” Lana states. 
You give her a nod, embarrassed that she’s read so quickly through you when it comes to Eren, as you pinch a smile for her. 
 “Just like the moons and the suns, with the certainty of the tides, just like hope springing high, still you’ll rise.” Lana states. 
Eren’s words from the beach. 
“Maya Angelou. Eren’s told me that one before.” 
Lana smiles, rolling her eyes. 
“He’s cheesy. But it doesn’t make it any less true.” 
You wrap your arms around her, sighing into her shoulder, as she hugs you hard. 
“I’m really proud of you for owning it all. I hope that you get to drag Ricky’s name through the mud. For good this time.” you respond. 
“A girl can hope.” 
“And hank you, Lana.” 
She tilts her head in confusion. 
“You took care of Eren when I couldn’t. I won’t exactly be able to repay you for that.” you murmur. 
“Consider yourself repaid. You did the same for Sukuna before I knew him.” 
You scoff. 
“As if. Sukuna and I are nowhere near how you and Eren are.” 
She shakes her head dismissively, as she hops up on her feet and drags you by the arm to the hallway. The walls are littered in little frames, each little photo sweet little memories. 
There’s pictures of Lana, Sukuna, and Teddy on the beach and of Eren sitting at the piano with Teddy in his lap. Of Lana and Eren fast asleep on the couch and of Sukuna and Yuuji pulling each other’s cheeks as kids. And the last one in the row is of you and Sukuna, cheesing on the set of Ten Things I Hate About You. 
“It might not feel that way to you, but you’re his best friend. He’s told me that you were one of the first people - to meet him and treat him like a person. It’s no shit that everyone hated him when he was sixteen, but you were the one to extend your hand to him and be friends. Means a lot more to him than you think.” she murmurs. 
You give her a nod, as the two of you shuffle back into the kitchen and take the little tray of cookies out of the oven. You nicely plate them all onto the platter and turn around to wash your hands, as Sukuna, Teddy, and Eren pad back into the kitchen. 
“Ryomen Sukuna, if you track sand into my house again, I’m sending you right back out and you’re staying there for a few days.” Lana warns. 
You turn around to find Sukuna giving Lana an eye roll, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. His arm is still secured around her as he faces the platter of cookies. 
“Lana Price. Did you bake something without setting the house on fire?” Sukuna asks. 
“Yes. I’m not incompetent, you know?” Lana responds, trying to shove him off. 
“Right. Making ready-made cookies is such a difficult task. Quite the feat if you ask me.” 
“It is! You have no idea.” she deadpans back, as Teddy runs up to hug her legs and she lifts him straight into her arms. 
Teddy reachs for the little ribbon in her hair immediately, twisting it in his little hands as he yanks it out of her hair. 
“Teddy, tell your dad he’s being very rude. And that I’m a very good cook.” Lana states. 
“Mommy. You almost made a car engine.” Teddy responds. 
“Buddy. It’s carcinogen. Car-sin-o-gen.” Eren repeats, annunciating every syllable. 
“Eren, quit teaching my kid bad words. You’re a horrible influence. And Y/N was watching me while I made them so…” Lana murmurs, pressing a kiss to Teddy’s cheek before setting him back on the floor and letting him run up in between Eren’s legs. 
Eren gives you a smile from your little vantage point near the sink, as he gestures for you to come closer to him. You follow and crouch down to where Eren - and Teddy - are standing as Teddy nervously peeks at you from behind Eren’s back. 
“Okay, bud. This is my pretty friend, Y/N. Can you say hi?” he asks. 
Teddy’s cheeks turn bright red, as he nervously toussles his hair, before extending his little hand to you. 
“My name is Theodore Price. My mommy calls me Teddy. And Eren. And my dad calls me Theo. And the mailman always calls me kid.” Teddy rambles. 
You fight the urge to laugh, at how cute he is, as you smile at him. 
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” you respond, shaking his little hand as you watch a little smile spread across his face. 
You look up to find Sukuna making eye contact with Lana, mouthing Theodore? as Lana shakes her head dimissively at him. You give Sukuna a smile, which he actually returns, before you focus back on Teddy. 
“I have a gift for you.” Teddy states. 
“For me? On your birthday?” you ask. 
“I didn’t buy it so it doesn’t actually count.” he responds. 
“Sound logic, my friend. What is it?” you ask. 
“You have to close your eyes and put your hands out.” 
You look up at Eren, giving him a disbelieving look, as he gestures for you to follow. You close your eyes and cup your hands out to the two of them, as you hear Eren laugh. 
“Okay. You can open them now.” Teddy states. 
You open your eyes to find a pink ribbon in your hand, specifically the one that Teddy just snagged from Lana’s hair, as you hear Sukuna and Eren laugh. You smile hard, twisting it in your hands. 
“Thank you, Teddy. That’s very kind of you.” you respond, giving him a smile. 
He returns the favor, his cheeks bright pink, as he runs up behind Sukuna’s legs and burrows his face into the fabric of his pants. You and Eren stand back up, as Eren leans into your space and whispers. 
“He still has a crush on you.” Eren states. 
“He’s a baby, Eren.” 
“You’re so rude. Babies aren’t capable of love?” 
“Well, you’re standing right here so that’s obviously not true.” you deadpan. 
“Haha. Now give it.” Eren states, holding his hand out to you. 
“Give you what?” 
“The ribbon, dingus.” Eren responds. 
“Actually, Eren. He gave it to me. Maybe if you were cuter, he’d give it to you.” 
“Okay, Megamind. Don’t get a big head now. I was just going to put it on for you.” Eren responds. 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, oh.” 
You place the little pink ribbon in Eren’s hands, as he gestures for you to turn around. He’s quick to secure the ribbon into the little ponytail in your hair, giving your head a little pat when he’s finished. 
“So cute.” Eren says, sarcastically. 
“Shut up. I’m adorable.” you respond. 
Eren smiles. 
“Yes, you are.” he responds, zero hint of sarcasm in his voice. 
Sukuna gives Eren a nod, as the two of them switch spots, and he takes your side. You get to take Sukuna in full this time, at the little smile wrinkles near his eyes and the salty, beach smell that seems to emanate off of him. 
“Y/N L/N. Are you finally gracing us with your presence?” Sukuna asks. 
“Father Sukuna. I think I am.” you respond, placing your hands on your hips. 
Sukuna smiles, reaching forward to mess with your hair. 
“You and I are going to talk after breakfast. And that’s only because Lana will burn our house down if I leave her alone to it.” Sukuna states. 
“Deal.” you respond, smiling at him. 
--
You and Sukuna settle down onto the little patio, the waves of the ocean crashing against the sand in front of you. He sets the little plates in front of the two of you, giving you a smile, as you both lean back in your chairs. 
“Pumpkin pie?” you ask. 
“You want some?” Sukuna asks. 
“Sure.” 
And then Sukuna lifts the plate and immediately smashes the pie into your face. It’s cold and squishy, as you quickly smear it out of your eyes just to glare at him. 
“Eren! Bring Y/N a towel. And another slice of pie.” Sukuna states. 
Eren sticks his head out of the screen door, widened eyes at the state of you. 
“What happened?” Eren asks. 
“She fell into the pie. She’s always been such a clutz.” Sukuna states. 
“Into the pie? On the plate?” Eren asks. 
“Yes.” Sukuna responds. 
Eren gives the two of you a weird look, as he shuffles back into the house and returns with a towel. You wipe all of the filling off of your face before hitting Sukuna straight in the face with the towel and crossing your arms. 
“Is it asshole day, Sukuna?” 
“That’s rich coming from you. I’m the asshole?” Sukuna asks. 
“You just smashed a pie into my face.” 
“And you didn’t return my calls for two years.” Sukuna responds, glaring. 
You sigh, leaning back in the chair, as you look at him. 
“Make no mistake, Y/N. I’m not Eren and I’m not Mikasa. I’m not going to beat around the bush just for you.” Sukuna states. 
“Thanks, Sukuna. I can always count on you to support me.” you deadpan. 
Sukuna stops in his tracks, before swallowing hard. 
“Lana told me to be nice to you.” he states. 
“You don’t have to be. Whatever it is you’re feeling…I’m sure that I deserve it.” you respond. 
“Contrary to your belief, I don’t actually enjoy being rude. I actually hate it. But…there are things you have to know. You’re really fucking stupid sometimes, Y/N.” 
You roll your eyes. 
“You’re a changed man, Sukuna.” 
Sukuna shifts in his seat, as you quickly bite your words. 
“I wasn’t being sarcastic. You really do seem different. Better.” you murmur. 
Sukuna smiles. 
“I am. Different. Better.” 
You lean forward, placing a hand on his forearm. 
“You’re a fucking dad, Sukuna.” 
“I know. Who would have thought?” he asks. 
“Me. I always knew you’d be great at this type of thing.” 
“Yeah right.” Sukuna responds, sarcastically. 
“No, really. You…you have that ability. The type that really good parents have. You always know what to give people, what they need to hear. You know that people don’t give things to me straight, so you always do it for them. And you’re the only person on my side - the only person who says that and means it.” you respond. 
Sukuna leans forward on his elbow. 
“I could have done better by you. I know that.” 
“Sukuna-” 
“The awards show. I could have stopped you. I…I figured that Historia and Jean were riling you up. That you were already far past a point of reason and I just…” 
“I would have cussed you out if you tried to go against me in that moment, Sukuna. Kicked you out of my house.” 
“I thought that much but…but still. I could have made you listen.” Sukuna responds. 
“Don’t get me wrong. I find lots of value in your words. But really, I wouldn’t have listened. And…and you were still there in the way that I needed you. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten that the person who dragged me out of that dressing room that night was you.” you murmur. 
Sukuna sighs. 
“I fucking hate you for not talking to me, Y/N. I get not talking to anyone from Attack on Titan. To Levi, Hange, whatever. But I was never apart of that. I was your friend, Y/N. I was always on your side.” 
“I’m sorry.” you respond. 
“You don’t think I would have fought for your albums back with you? That I wouldn’t have wrung Eren’s neck out if he asked me to? That I wouldn’t have crawled into your shitty house and stayed there with you if you needed me to?” 
You swallow hard. 
“It’s embarrassing to be around people when I know I’m doing something wrong. But it’s infinitely more embarrassing when that person is you, Sukuna.” you respond. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
“I mean…you’re one of the best people I know. You’re always saying what’s on your mind, you’re exactly what I want to be. Honest. Earnest. A good friend. I know I can be shitty. It’s just really hard for me to do it in front of you.” you respond. 
“You think too much of me.” Sukuna states. 
“You think too little of yourself.” you respond. 
“Don’t quote my girl back to me, L/N.” Sukuna sneers, lightly shoving you. 
You smile. 
“Your girl, eh?” your respond, smirking at him as you watch a pink flush crawl up his neck. 
“Do you think you’re funny? We have a kid together.” Sukuna responds. 
“You have a crush on Lana.” you respond. 
“Okay?” 
“That’s so cute, Sukuna.” you respond, exaggerating each syllable as he rolls his eyes at you. 
You lean forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him as hard as you can as you feel the tears collect in your eyes. Sukuna pulls back the second he feels you sniffling, his eyes pinched in annoyance. 
“Why are you crying?” 
“I’m so happy for you, Sukuna.” you whisper. 
Sukuna deflates, pinching his lips shut. 
“You could have told me too, Sukuna. About all of it, everything that happened. When-when you were a kid. I would have listened to you. And I would never tell.” you whisper. 
“I almost did tell you. That night that we were in my trailer. When Historia released Lacy.” 
You gesture for him to continue. 
“I told you that…that hundreds, thousands of people loved me and I didn’t even know who I was looking at in the mirror. It was more humiliating for me than that. I looked in the mirror and didn’t know who I was, how I let that happen to me-” 
You feel the tears immediately burn in your eyes. 
“-but it bothered me even more. Because I look just like Yuuji, Y/N. Yuuji means the fucking world to me, just like you do. Like Lana does. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him. And…and at that point I realized. That I didn’t even hold myself to that standard. That I didn’t see that happening to myself and think that I deserved better.” Sukuna states. 
“Sukuna. You deserve so much better. So much better.” you whisper. 
“I know that now. And I have it too, Y/N.” 
You and Sukuna turn your heads to look at Lana and Teddy through the window, the two of them showing Eren something in a book. The two of you smile at each other. 
“Luckily for me, Lana showed up right when I needed her. I can’t believe that I’ve been walking around her for years, on red carpets and at awards shows. She was right under my nose this entire time and I had no idea.”  
“There’s this legend. An invisible string of fate. That the person that you’re destined to be with, the two of you have a little string tied around your pinkies the second you’re born. And no matter how far you go, you’ll still have a pull on each other. End up together.” you respond. 
“Yeah?” 
“I’m pretty sure the two of you have been making steps towards each other the entire time, Sukuna.” you respond. 
He smiles in response. 
“Me too.” Sukuna responds. 
You wipe the wetness from your cheek, as you lean back in the chair. 
“Okay, Sukuna. Give it to me straight.” 
“Give what? A slap?” Sukuna asks. 
“No. I know you. You’ve probably got a lot to say to me. So…just come right out and say it. I can take it.” 
Sukuna smiles, almost too sinisterly. 
“You sure?” 
“Yes.” 
“Positive? You can’t fight me on any of it.”
“Fine. Just tell me.” 
He takes a deep breath before talking, the tone in his voice so matter-of-fact that it catches you off guard. 
“You have no right to give Mikasa shit for picking another maid of honor. Even if Amy’s a bitch to you. Quit playing the victim with her on that one, becuase first and foremost, you will lose. And second of all, she’s getting married. You’re the one who needs to bite the bullet and make sure that she has a good day.” 
“Wait-” you start. 
“Why aren’t you writing any music anymore? Why are you accrediting all of your success to Danny and Sareen when you’re the one who wrote those songs?” 
“I’m not-” 
“Aren’t you though? And when are you going to stop punishing Eren for something that you did to him first.” 
“Sukuna.” 
“What are you mad at him for? That he didn’t tell you what he was going through? Isn’t that what you did to him first? Because yeah, you’d call him before all your shows and pretend like things were fine. And then Eren had to find out from a fucking interview that those two dickwads were starving you. That they were controlling you like you were one of their assets.”  
You sigh. 
“I’m not playing the victim with Mikasa.” 
“Aren’t you though? Because if it were me, if I had not talked to my best friend in two years despite the fact that she reached out multiple times, I’d think that I was in the wrong.” 
“I was struggling.” 
“And you don’t think she wasn’t? Did you know that she almost broke up with Jean in the years that you were gone?” 
You pale. 
“What?” 
“Did you ask her? Did you ask her how she was when you came back?” 
You swallow hard. 
“You don’t think that she needed you for that? For something as big as almost losing Jean when he’s always been by her side. You don’t think that she needed you for even small things even beyond that? Someone to talk to. Someone to support her?” 
“Are her and Jean okay?” 
“Yes. Eren was there. But Eren can’t exactly replace what you are for Mikasa. And god knows he has the emotional capabilities of a fucking teaspoon.” 
It seems that every time you’re at the depths of your regret, of your guilt, you find that there is always a way to sink down further. 
“Quiet now, aren’t you? Fight me about the music.” he states. 
“No.” 
“Because I’m right?” he asks. 
“So what if you are? I just don’t want to write anything anymore. It’s not that serious.” 
Sukuna leans forward, inches between your faces. 
“It’s not that serious, for any normal person. But it is that serious for you. Because you love to write music, Y/N. You scribble lyrics onto your scripts when you’re supposed to be reading them. You hum songs when you’re basically doing anything. And you’re not doing it now, because you’re still in that godforsaken hole you sank yourself into in your house.” 
“So what if I am, Sukuna? What if I am? Don’t you get that I’m fucking scared of this type of thing? That it is isn’t easy? I lost Eren. And then I lost my music. All of my friends. You don’t think that type of thing was fucking hard for me?” you respond, warm tears spilling out of your eyes. 
Sukuna leans forward, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing hard. 
“You were never one to back down from a fight. What kind of hold do you think those two idiots have over you at this point? Need I remind you, that they’re only famous, that they only have a claim to their names, because of you. Did you lose Eren? No. Because he’s literally peering through the fucking window right now because you’re crying. Did you lose your music? No, because he fought so hard to somehow get it back for you. And you didn’t lose your friends. We’re right in front of you.” 
You pull back, glaring at him. Because as annoying as he is, he always did point out the truth. You give Eren a smile through the window, gesturing to him that it’s okay, as he gives you a disbelieving look and walks away. 
“I’m mad at Eren for what he said to me.” you respond. 
“That’s valid. But have you ever considered that he might have been mad at you for what you said to him too? Or even worse, that you could have really hurt him?” 
“What did I say to him? Because he-” 
“You didn’t pick him.” 
“But, Sukuna. I had to do that. Sareen and Danny-” 
“So you get it. You get that what you did was because you had to. So why don’t you understand that what Eren said to you was because it was what he had to say too?” 
You sigh. 
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Y/N. You know I don’t say any of this to hurt you.  But you’re not twenty-one anymore. And neither is Eren. It’s time for you to face this head on. Both of you.” he states, the tone in voice so caring that it makes you falter. 
You sigh. 
“Did you know that Eren was struggling that bad?” 
“No. And I gave him tons of shit at the time for it. You’re not the only one with regrets.” he states. 
--
After a fresh shower, you pad back into the main room to find Eren in the kitchen, while Sukuna, Lana, and Teddy cuddle in the crouch. Eren gestures for you to join him at your side, as he pushes a little cutting board and the food towards your side. 
“Are you trusting me to cut the vegetables? Are you finally viewing me as your equal, Eren Jaeger?” you ask, feigning shock. 
“It’s a safety knife. That’s what Teddy uses when Lana teaches him how to cook.” Eren responds, smirking at you. 
You elbow him, accompanied with nice string of insults as you stand at Eren’s side. You look to the picture at the your side, of Sukuna, Lana, and Teddy dressed up nice in a little courthouse. 
“Hey. What’s this?” 
“Lana and Sukuna are married.” Eren states. 
“Excuse me. You said they were dating.” you state. 
“We said dating in the documentary, because they were dating at the time. But at their one year anniversary, they did a small little court wedding. The three of them got takeout sushi and came home like right after.” Eren states. 
You walk over to the picture, inspecting it in full this time. At Lana’s white slip dress, at their matching rings, and the little bouquet in Teddy’s hands. The three of them are smiling so brightly, Lana and Sukuna leaning their temples together, with their eyes closed and bright smiles. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm?”
“How did that happen?” you ask, gesutring over to the three of them. 
Eren sets his knife down, lookng over at the picture as he places his hands on his hips. You can already tell from his stance that whatever he’s about to say is going to be bitingly sassy. 
“Okay. When two people love each other, they get in a be-” 
“Shut up, idiot. I mean, Lana and Sukuna.” 
Eren shoves you in the side, as the two of you avert your eyes to the three of them on the couch. 
“After that night, when I had said everything to you, I had immediately called Levi and Hange. Lana and I had been debating calling them and asking for help the second I ended up in the hospital, but that night was kind of the final straw for me.” Eren states. 
“Your injury should have been your final straw, Eren.” you respond, pinching your eyes at him. 
“At that point, I was ready to drag Scott Clarkson into the ground. From my standpoint, I didn’t really have anything to lose from suing them. And Connie and Lana, it didn’t take them much convincing to follow. But Levi basically wanted to stack all of our cards in our favor, that if we were going to say something, anyone else who has something to say would get to take that chance too.” Eren adds. 
“That’s where he came in.” you state, to which Eren gives you an affirmative nod. 
“Sukuna had told us almost everything about what happened to him, except for…you know.” 
The sexual assault. 
“Yeah.” 
“Lana was the first person that he told. And I don’t know what she told him, since that’s not something I understand having experienced but she obviously does, but…they both just kind of came to us one day. Told us that they wanted to own it.” Eren adds. 
“So, they just got close? From all that? Not that it’s not a thing that connects him, but he…he’s always so reserved.” you ask. 
“I think he just naturally gravitated towards her, that’s all. I think they have these deep, all encompassing emotions that they don’t share with other people. The feel things deeply, love really hard. It was just like an underlying thing…that they knew they would get along in that way. Like you and me.” 
“Like you and me?” 
“Y’know. We were close right off the bat. No awkward stage, no holding things back from each other. Well, in the beginning at least.” Eren states. 
You hum in response. 
“Sukuna met Teddy pretty early on. When Lana and Sukuna started dating, they were serious straight off the bat. He kind of just…fit in perfectly with them. Nothing really changed. Teddy just kind of called him dad in passing one day. No one really said much about it, but I did find Sukuna crying later.” 
You frown, clutching your hands on your chest. 
“I’m really happy for them, Eren. There’s no one who deserves it more than them.” 
You feel a brush past your shoulder to find Sukuna and Lana at your sides, the two of them tip toeing into the fridge and pulling a little box out. Eren hands you a little box of candles, as you pull out five little green ones. 
The four of you huddle over the cake, perfectly placing them and lighting them, as you walk over to where Teddy’s still sitting, fully engrossed into the screen. Sukuna turns to the three of you, quietly counting down, before you all burst out singing and Teddy turns around excitedly. 
You watch as Sukuna smashes a decent amount of frosting onto Teddy’s cheeks after he blows out the candles, as Lana quickly snaps a picture of the two of them with the cake. 
“Is that your thing now, Sukuna? You just smash dessert into people’s faces?” you ask. 
“Well, you deserved it. And I’ve been doing this since my first birthday with him.” Sukuna states. 
“Don’t tell me you smashed food in a grown woman’s face?” Lana asks, deadpanning. 
“It was pie. That hardly counts as food. And again, need I repeat, that she deserved it.” 
Lana comes over, securing her hands around your shoulders, as she presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“You’re rude. Our princess does no wrong.” she states, gesturing for Eren to join him at her side. 
Eren follows suit, gesturing for Lana to get in the picture, as he points the little camera at them, and you peer over his shoulder at the viewfinder. 
“Teddy. What did you wish for?” Eren asks. 
“Don’t say! Your wish won’t come true.” Lana whines. 
“Y/N!” Teddy states, giving you a bright smile. 
Sukuna laughs, reaching for his sides to tickle at him. 
“Sorry buddy. You already snoozed and lost on that one.” Sukuna responds. 
The three of them shuffle to the counter as Sukuna starts cutting the cake into little slices and placing them on the plates. After a decent amount of dessert and sweet pictures, Eren shuffles away with Teddy to set him to bed, as you shuffle into your own room and muse over what you’re going to say to Eren later. 
--
Eren makes his way down the following morning, to find the three of them mulling around in the kitchen. He makes it a point to shove Lana and smack Sukuna, before pressing a kiss on top of Teddy’s head and taking the seat next to them. 
“You’re not going on your walk?” Eren asks, looking up at Sukuna. 
“Someone already claimed the beach.” 
“Huh?” 
Sukuna points behind him, as Eren looks out the window to find you sitting there in the sand, on a little blanket. Your back is facing towards him, your hair slightly swaying in the light breeze of the beach outside. 
“What’s she doing?” Eren asks. 
“She wants to talk to you, Eren.” Lana states. 
Eren pales. 
“Out there?” Eren asks. 
The two of them nod as Eren feels knots twisting in his stomach, that whatever semblance of relationship that the two of you were building back together was going to come crashing down in a second. That the harsh, cruel justice that he was owed was finally going to be served to him. 
“Fuck. Okay. Do I look fine?” Eren asks, turning to the two of them. 
Sukuna and Teddy squint their eyes in confusion, as Lana gives him a big thumbs up and all but pushes him onto the patio. He turns around and gives her a pointed glare, which she only returns with a smile as he starts trudging towards you, feet digging into the sand. 
You notice Eren before he can creep up behind you, as you give him a smile and gesture for him to take the spot next to you. It’s decently overcast, a slight chill in the air as you pull your hoodie around you and watch the waves crash ahead. 
“Hey.” Eren says. 
Eren takes the spot at your side, hiking his knees to his chest, as your elbows brush against each other in the cold. 
“Wanna go skinny dipping?” you ask. 
“I beg your pardon?” Eren resopnds, eyes nearly bulging out of his head.  
You can barely contain your laughter, as Eren quickly catches on. His cheeks are positively pink as he starts grumbling under his breath about how mean you are and you choke out an apology. The two of you sit there in silence as the water pulls close to the shore, just to quickly retreat back into the big mass of water. 
You bite the bullet this time.
“The song that you wrote that day. The one that you sang to me on the beach.” you say. 
“Yeah?” Eren asks, almost too attentive as he hangs at the ends of your words. 
“That’s my first question. What did it mean?” you ask. 
Eren looks back out at the waves. 
“I thought that what we had ran it’s course when I wrote it. It was a few days before you got there. And by that point, I was already so down in it that all I was left with was the feeling of being grateful. That I did get to experience that love, with you, at some point. And you know. You’re the moon. I’m the ocean. It was a nice solace to think our love would last forever that way..” Eren responds. 
You nod in response. 
“That night. When- when you tried to kiss me. I told you I couldn’t because you were still with Hyla. Why didn’t you tell me then and there that you had broken up?” you ask. 
“I could have. But I wanted to know if you wanted me still, with such extreme urgency, that-that I kind of forgot that I was technically dating her in the first place. I said it before, but I never really considered that real, Y/N. She didn’t even warrant a mention in my mind. Or ever mean anything to me.” Eren responds. 
“Okay.” 
Eren pauses. You suppose your response was barely convincing and that he can most definitely tell. 
“I’m only telling you this part because Sukuna is going to tell you anyway and he’s been holding it over my head for weeks.” Eren states. 
“What?” 
“It’s embarrassing. Just- pretend like it’s nothing when Sukuna says it to you.” 
“Okay?” 
“The yacht. When-when Hyla kissed me.” 
“Oh. Vomitgate.” you respond, smiling at him. 
“Don’t call it that!” he whines. 
You laugh as you gesture for him to continue, his cheeks lightly dusted pink. 
“Hyla likes to wear a lot of lipgloss. And she..she always wears this red one. That smells like cherries.” he states. 
“Okay?”  
“I didn’t know that it tasted like cherries too. And when she kissed me, I-I could taste it.” Eren mumbles. 
“Congratulations? I’m glad it tasted good while you were kissing her.” 
“No! No, Y/N. You don’t get it. You….you taste like cherries when I kissed you. Or when you used to.” 
“Huh?” 
“The slushies. Your lips always tasted like cherries. So when she kissed me, I-I immediately thought of you. And…and then I realized it was her.” 
“And then you…projectile vomited?” you finish. 
“Okay, you promised you wouldn’t make fun.” 
You smile. Primarily because he’s so embarrassed that it’s cute. And that in the most evil way, the thought of him being so disgusted by kissing someone that isn’t you that it makes him vomit makes your heart warm in a special way. 
“I said no such thing, Eren.” 
The two of you sit there in silence for some time, as you muse over his words. The air only seems to get colder as time goes on, the clouds swirling in the sky above the two of you. 
“The things that you said to me, Eren. I-I know they weren’t true. But I want to know how you came up with them. Because I understand that it was something you had to say. But they just fell out of your mouth so easily. That you only wanted me for that and nothing more and-” 
“In no way were those words easy for me to say. Don’t even say that.” Eren states, the urgency in his tone so adamant that it makes you sweat. 
“How did you come up with it? Because it must have been in the back of your mind if-” 
“Y/N. I come from literally the shittiest, meanest place that you can imagine. I’ve told you before. The things that Zeke had said to me.” Eren states. 
“And?” 
Eren stops. His voice is softer this time, almost laced with a pinch of hurt. 
“When life gets harder, I have to get harder to match. If you show up and I can’t have you, the thought of it fills me with so much anger, so much hurt that it all comes out. On you. And that doesn’t make anything I said okay, but you being there. Having you so close to me and having to send you away. It had to be something cruel. You wouldn’t have gone otherwise.” 
“Well-” 
“Don’t even say that to me. Because I know for a fact that if I had told you any of this then, you would never leave. You wouldn’t listen to me because you’d want to stay with me.” 
“Is there something wrong with that? With me wanting to be there for you?” 
“Of course, not. It’s just that you being there with me required you to be there. With those shitty people. And if it comes to you or me, I’d pick you. Even if I had to do something shitty to make sure that you were far away.” 
You’re immediately reminded of the conversation that you had with Eren. Or more acutely, the fight that the two of you had. Of what Eren had said to you. 
But I couldn’t have you there. Because if it came down to it, when I had to pick between covering someone else or taking care of you, I’d pick you.
You swallow the lump in your throat. Of the implication that if Eren was faced with the choice - of you and Teddy or you and Connie - that he would pick you. 
Even if it was the wrong choice to make. 
“And Armin?” you ask. 
“That’s the thing about you two. You both came in so hot. I was expecting after the interview that the two of you were going to cuss me out, leave without even saying anything. But your instinct - both of yours - was to immediately believe it wasn’t true. Bittersweet, because you knew me well enough to know I’d never really say that but also shitty becuase then I had to bite back to make sure you left.” Eren states. 
You lift the little cover at your side and slide the little box into Eren’s hands. You see his eyes go wide immediately, as you hand him a polaroid camera, the exact specific brand that Erwin had gifted Armin all of those years ago. 
“I can make my amends with it. Even if it hurt my feelings. And hopefully that helps you make amends with Armin.” you state. 
“Where the fuck did you find this? I’ve been looking for this for a better part of the past year.” he states. 
“I found it this morning. And…I’ve eavedropped on one of your fights with Armin.” you state. 
“Nosy.” 
“Okay, I’ll just go return it.” you state. 
“No!” Eren states, quickly clutching his arms around the box as you laugh. 
Eren sighs. 
“Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” Eren responds. 
“I think I have an idea.” you respond. 
Eren smiles, albeit halfheartedly, as he looks down at the box. 
“My turn. Unless you had more?” he murmurs. 
“No. Go ahead.” 
“The awards show. What do you think about it now?” Eren asks. 
You sigh. 
“What you were saying, it seems much more obvious now. That it was Historia and Jean there. That they were riling me up. Historia, she was already mad at you for what I said, for going against what we had as kids, and for Jean. It was personal. He basically felt like you had betrayed him and told me that. I suppose now that if Mikasa was there, she wouldn’t have let me go as far as I did.” you respond. 
“Mikasa wanted to come. Danny and Sareen didn’t let her. They knew for a fact she wouldn’t let you. She’d want to be there for you in the way you needed. Probably put my face on a dart board and talk shit about me.” Eren muses. 
“I would have preferred that over what I really did. But I remember that now. Danny and Sareen said that her hysterics weren’t conducive to the situation. And granted, Mikasa’s never short of being dramatic but…always calm when you need her. I can’t believe I forgot about that in the moment. And Sukuna, he never gave his opinion. He just told me to make my own decisions and that he would support me, which makes more sense in hindsight too.” you respond. 
Eren nods in response, content with your answer. 
“Why did you cry when I was singing the grudge?” you ask. 
“Why did you cry when you were singing the grudge?” Eren asks. 
“The fight we had. You told me beforehand that..that I didn’t have any faith in you like you did in me. It was the first time that it might have crossed my mind. That you didn’t mean anything that you said and…and then I was singing a song about how I’d never forgive you. And you were crying during it. It pretty much sold me on the fact that I was right.” you respond. 
Eren nods. 
“For me, it was the fact that you were playing the piano. On your own. I was waiting for years to see you do it on your own, to take that step and be confident in your own abilities. You’ve always been great and all I wanted to do in that moment was to stand there. Tell you I told you so. And I couldn’t.” 
“What did you mean? When you said I didn’t have faith in you?” you murmur. 
“I was just really upset in that moment, Y/N. I didn’t-” 
“I want to know.”
Eren sighs. 
“You thought right. I was upset that you believed it so blindly. That you believed an edited interview of me. And what I had said that night, which you had every right to believe. I was just-” 
“It’s okay.” 
“I wasn’t mad at you. And I’m still not. I regretted it after I said it.” 
“Okay. I appreciate the grace you give me, Eren.” 
“Nothing you haven’t given me first.” Eren responds. 
You both avert your eyes from one another. 
Anything else?” Eren asks. 
“I guess not. Is there something you want to tell me?” you state. 
“I want to know what you were doing in the years that I wasn’t with you.” 
“In the house?” 
“No. No, when you were with Danny and Sareen. After-after we said fishbowl on the rooftop.” Eren states. 
You sigh. 
“I feel fucking stupid about it all in hindsight.” you respond, warm tears filling your eyes.
Eren’s quick to notice, like he always is, as he pulls you closer to him and you lean your head against his shoulder. 
“Hey. You’re okay, just take a breath-” Eren whispers. 
“I did three albums with world tours back to back. Movies in the hiatuses.” you state. 
“And?” Eren murmurs. 
“And I didn’t take a break once. I-I only realized when I locked myself in that godforsaken house how much time I had lost. How much of it I swam through when I came back and Falco was basically grown. I left him when he was barely a teenager and then he was just…this whole person. Comforting me when that’s always been my job. That Jean and Mikasa had moved so far in their relationship that they were actually going to get married. That we all fucking grew up.” you respond. 
You wipe your nose. 
“I realized really quickly that I wasn’t making money off of the Lucky One. I had spent that entire first year, not even thinking about you or anything else, because I was just fighting desperately behind the sidelines to get them back.” you state. 
Eren snorts. 
“I think when you stopped fighting is when I started. We had won the lawsuit at that point and I-I was told to negotiate for whatever I wanted.” Eren responds. 
“How did you know?” 
“Danny and Sareen. At the awards show, they had made it a point to me. That it was always their goal. I had been inquiring about it ever since then and…the second you released the Lucky One and disappeared I knew they were going to do something. I tried to negotiate the entire album back, money and all, but all I could get you was the rights. And I’ve talked to Niccolo about it. You can re-record them or-or we can do something else but-” 
“Thank you.” you state. 
You look back at the ocean. You don’t say something for sometime, which fills Eren’s stomach with an overwhelming amount of discomfort as he rests his head against his knees. But you can’t even stomach it. How you’re supposed to thank Eren for what he did. For what he’s always done. 
For how consistent he’s always been. When it comes to you. 
“What are you thinking?” he asks. 
You look over at him, or more precisely, at the little tattoo on his bicep as you open up his arms and rest your fingers against it. He mimics your motions, smiling at the little inked skin. 
“I was half convinced you were going to get it removed.” Eren states. 
“I almost did.” you respond. 
He laughs. 
“I always thought it was stupid. That you wanted to be the ocean when I thought you were the moon. You know, like a light shining on a dark night? That’s always what I thought you were for me.” you state. 
“It feels like there’s more to that statement.” Eren responds. 
“Can you see the moon right now?” you ask. 
Eren looks up at the overcast sky, the clouds dense above. 
“No.” 
“But you can see the ocean. All the time, whenever you want. The waves pull back, but they always return.” you state. 
Eren looks up at you, in confusion. 
“I don’t follow.” 
“I’m saying you picked right. I am the moon. Fickle. Unreliable. I disappear at the first sign of a storm. But the ocean…” 
You look over at your right, to the waves crashing. 
“It’s one of the only things in nature that keeps its promise. Keeps crashing back on the shore, against the pull.” 
Eren’s eyes falter. 
“You had every right to do what you did.” Eren responds. 
“I know that. But it was always you and me. From the start. I was the one who lost sight of that when I let you go.” you state. 
Eren swallows hard. 
“Why did you do that?” he asks, his voice in the smallest whisper. 
The fact that he even asks shatters something in you, into tiny little pieces. That you had sown so much doubt into him. 
“I…I had so much faith in us. What we had…it came to us so easily. Snuck on me so quickly that I took it for granted. I figured that if I had to let you go for sometime, you’d come right back to me. The same way that we were before.” 
“You were nineteen.” Eren states. 
“I was stupid. Because that’s not how you saw it.” 
“No. No, it-” 
“Don’t lie. You thought I left you.” 
“It’s water under the bridge.” Eren responds. 
You sigh. 
“Eren. Eren, if you felt that way, why didn’t you say that? I- I fucking adored you. I would have pulled back and said no the second that you had asked me not to. Surely you must have known that I would move any mountain for you?” you ask. 
Eren looks at you, the look in his eyes faltering as you realize. 
“Eren. Did you know that I would do anything for you? Did you know that I loved you as much as you loved me?” you ask. 
“I did.” Eren responds, the lightest hint of disbelief in your voice. 
You pull him closer, cupping his face in your hands. 
“Eren. You were my person. I loved you so, so much and you didn’t even know?” you ask, warm tears filling your eyes. 
“It wasn’t anything about you. It was me. It’s my fault that I didn’t think that.” Eren whispers. 
“Don’t. Don’t fucking say that, Eren.” you respond, pulling away from him as the hot, embarrassing tears pour down your eyes. 
At the fact that Eren’s so willing to forgive. So quick to look past the fact that you took the love that he had given you for granted. That you hadn’t appreciated it, and him, half as much as you should have and now it was never going to be the same. That he was so insecure in himself, that he couldn’t accept the love that you had given him. And that you didn’t even notice. 
Eren sits quietly at your side, making no move to comfort you this time. All you can see are his green eyes, looking directly into yours, almost like he’s waiting. Mulling over the exact words that he has to say to you. And the fact that he’s sitting there trying to comfort you, when he should be cursing your name, makes it ten times worse. 
“Y/N.” he murmurs. 
“No.” 
“Y/N.” he repeats, softer this time. 
You shake your head as he scoots closer to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he gives you a smile. He wipes away your constant stream of tears with his thumbs, as his face washes over in the softest, most comforting look. 
“You know that stupid, cheesy as fuck saying? That you can’t give love to someone else if you don’t have it for yourself?” 
“Eren.” 
“It’s not a bad thing to give yourself kindness. To give nineteen year old you grace the same way I give twenty-one year old me grace.” he whispers. 
“I was old enough to know better.” 
“And so was I. But your life isn’t meant to be a punishment. Neither is mine. We’re not supposed to sit here and never forgive ourselves over something what’s already happened.” he whispers. 
“I picked wrong. You- I let you leave, Eren.” you cry. 
Eren smiles. 
“Am I gone?” Eren asks. 
You sigh. 
That’s not the way you meant it. 
Eren smiles, tilting your face up in his clutches as he gives your cheek a little squish. 
“Answer my question, Margaret.” 
“Why do you call me Margaret?” 
“You first. Am I gone?”
“Yes.” you deadpan.
Eren leans closer to you, noses almost touching, as he whispers. 
“I’m right here. I’ve spent far too much time without you. Don’t tell anyone but…you’re kind of my favorite person, ever. You’re always going to be my best friend. And as long as you don’t send me away again, I’ll always be right here.” 
You sniffle. 
“I won’t tell anyone. There’s no one else to tell.” 
Eren smiles so wide, so bright at you repeating the same words you had used all those years ago to him, as he pulls you straight into a hug. You deflate straight into his arms, wrapping them around his torso as you inhale his biting, minty smell once more. 
“Wanna know why I call you Margaret?” he asks. 
“Please. I know for a fact that it’s not just some random name you picked.” 
Eren pulls back, a devious grin on his face. 
“Margaret is the name of the moon.” 
Of course. 
“...of Uranus.” he finishes. 
“Huh?” 
“Uranus. It’s the name of one of the moons of Uranus.” Eren repeats, emphasizing every last syllable. 
You can tell from the way he’s smiling that he’s incredibly pleased with himself. And it makes uou break out into a teary laugh. 
“You’re fucking with me.” 
“No, I’m not. All of Uranus’s moons are named after Shakespeare characters. And the first one that came to mind when we were having that talk out of all of them was Margaret.” 
“So you intentionally gave me a name based off of an anus?” 
“Not just any anus, Y/N. Ur-anus. It’s very significant to our relationship.” 
“Ew, Eren. Oh my god.” you respond, the two of you laughing as you look at him with disgust. 
“What?” 
“I can’t tell what’s worse. This or Hobo Eren.” 
“Hey.” 
“Nevermind. It’s definitely Hobo Eren. That’s an atrocity to humanity, Eren.” 
“Okay, okay. I get it. I’m horrendous” he responds, slightly shoving you in the side as you return the favor. 
“I’m so glad we’re on the same page. It’s been putting a real damper on our relationship.” you respond. 
Eren looks over at you and smiles. 
“Are there any dampers on our relationship now? For real?” Eren asks. 
You shake your head.
“No. But…you and me on the same side now. Always. You can’t keep secrets from me and-” 
“I won’t.” he responds, definitively. 
“Then no. No dampers. You and me till the end.” you respond. 
Eren smiles as you look back at the waves crashing and  you lean your head against his shoulder again. He softly murmurs into your hair. 
“Why do you call me Bruce? Yours had to be just as deliberate as mine.” he asks. 
“You don’t need to know. It’s not half as cute as yours.” you respond. 
“Well, nothing is as cute as Uranus unfortunatley.” 
“Naturally. I…um. You…you know that shark from Finding Nemo? That…that pretends to be friends with the fish and then tries to eat them?” you state, giving him a peachy smile. 
“No fucking way.” 
“I’m sorry!” you whine. 
“You’re so rude, Y/N L/N. I gave you a sweet, sentimental nickname and that’s how you repay me.” 
“You gave me Uranus, Eren.” 
“There is nothing more scared than my anus, Y/N. You know that.” 
“You’re so immature. You have the humor of a twelve year old.” you respond. 
“And you love it. One would argue that…that you enable this behavior from me. I’d never make these jokes if you didn’t think they were funny.” 
“You tell jokes based off of me?” you ask, sarcastically. 
“Yes. I want to see you laugh. You think I’m just out here saying stuff just to say it?” 
“You’re full of shit.” 
“And you’re not even half deserving of my anus.” Eren responds. 
You and Eren bicker back and forth. And the sun rises, straight through the patches of the clouds. 
On the two of you, together again.
--
next part linked here
an: MEOW
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly-y-blog @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegonee @tee4str @ttokki @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv
pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3
333 notes · View notes
jamjaemin · 7 months
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One more night (M)
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: idol bf!jeno x f!reader
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: +18 mdi pls
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⚠: explicit content, hard!dom jeno kissing, fingering, unprotected sex, doggy, possessive, orgasm denial, dirty talk, rough sex, Praising and degradation....
𝐰𝐜: 1.5k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ONE MORE NIGHT is about missing your boyfriend jeno and the times you spent together. It's difficult to find that time again because of his work as a kpop idol, he's been so busy and you couldn't handle the distance asking to end this relationship just to threaten him. What's gonna happen when you tell him?
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Lately you had the idea that this relationship will not last forever, there's no deep-rooted feelings anymore those late-night conversations that lead to intimacy, confessing his love for you so many times and much more. It's just different now although he told you about how his job works and it's not the first time that you had an argument about this topic.
the night you opened your mouth again, jeno seemed like he was going to explode with anger, trying his best to control himself. Every word that came out of your lips burned the heart that loved you blindly. It is okay to be impatient but he's no different than u, you did not think about how much he was trying to make your relationship successful even if your intentions were not to end it, most of times he come tired and see you after work.
On the night he found free time in his schedule, in his car and after a date. The timing was fucked up the situation was fucked up and you were just fucked up. You noticed that he drove faster and how his grip tightened on the steering wheel, instead of getting in the same argument. His veins want to burst from his skin. He had enough of your complaints and it's time to make you pay for your unforgivable mistake.
"I think we finished this nonsense a long time ago baby, no?", he said with a low voice smirking, he know you can't just turn your back at him because you loved each other's and can't spend a day without hearing his voice, either seeing him in person or on a phone call when he's away. Jeno have his own ways to change your mind no matter what you tried to say but this time he will do what he want to do.
“Did you really think that talking it out would change anything?” you whispered grabbing hard on your bag .You knew you were hasty when you said that, and you regretted it deeply.
You shivered hearing his next words, “do you think threatening me would, kitten?” He said rising one eyebrow not expecting you to talk back like this glancing at you for a moment before looking at the road and sighed deeply.
"Tonight can't be enough to teach you some manners, i need one more night" his lips moved again while turning the steering wheel all the way to the right parking the car near the familiar place where you spend most of time with him.
"I didn't mean it i-" you stuttered panicking when he get out of the car opening your door and pulling you by your wrist strongly, slamming the door behind you "get the fuck out" his grip firm and you never seen him like this before.The possessive nature within him swelled, the need to keep you close overwhelming. He led you towards the entrance of the house, his presence providing a sense of security and stability but its scary because u never seen him this mad. With every step, his dominance and control radiated, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you. You were his, and he was yours, and he relished in the knowledge of the depth of your need for him, "My wrist hurts so much jeno! Relax your grip, please"
Your body was slightly trembling like it's your first time although you had sex many times with jeno but this time feels different...like you're a virgin.
"Shhhh" his eyebrows furrowed shushing you. Your trembling only fuelled his desire, he tightened his grip on your wrist, offering a silent reassurance that worse is coming if you don't shut up. The realization that this time felt different, the power he held over you, the effect he had on your body and mind. With each step, your weakness only seemed to intensify.
As both reached the entrance, jeno's other hand slid into his pocket, retrieving the keys to the door. The cool metal pressed against his palm, With a flick of his wrist the door unlocked, dragging you inside. The click of the lock echoes in the silence and you know its your end.
"Look at me and say it again" He murmured "you can't" and he was right you wanted him so badly, his voice laced with longing closing the distance between your bodies and without wasting a second he smashed his lips on yours, he start kissing you hungrily and aggressively, pulling your hair while breathing heavily. Moving step by step, It didn't take long for him to push you making you lay down on the couch....the bedroom was upstairs and he's so impatient and desperate to fuck you here and now.
He takes his white dress-shirt off after unbuttoning it, ripped some buttons from the strength that he can't control especially when mad and turned on before he's hovering above you.
"Jeno no-" He didn't let you finish your sentence and attacked your lips again doing the same thing to your shirt sliding it off your arms and throwing it on the floor.
From your lips, he kisses down to your jawline. Then to your neck sucking on it hard as if this is the last sex he'll ever have leaving his marks of ownership. You bite your bottom-lip to stop any moans you make, but it wasn't worth it.. you were a moaning mess he knows your body so well and everytime you moan jeno would go wilder, he snipes your bra off and keep going down to your cleavage and breasts fingers find their way to your hardened nipples, pinching and squeezing the sensitive buds. You let out a sharp cry. "not t-there"
“here?”he suppresses a groan lips are attached to your bare nipples teasing the hell out of you, swirling his warm tongue and sucking loudly. Your hands tugging at the strands of his hair as you moan his name. 
"I don't want this" You squeezed your thighs together bucking your hips as he kiss on your tummy reaching to your skirt taking it off too as he growls "spread those legs for me, cmon" before he loses his shit.
So ashamed from yourself to do so because of your arousal, thinking for too long what to say but he can solve this with force, he's so strong for you making you spreading them wide enough.
"Please stop" you breathed trying to hide the wet spot in your panties with your hands but he uses more force grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand. "What's this baby, hm?"..your body jolted when jeno's long fingers slipped inside your panties feeling your wetness and teasing your clit making you squirm softly, even your own body betrayed you.
"Oh no, you lied to me twice princess" adding a rough whisper "Promise I'll not go easy on you" that ruined you immediately before he does.
"Jeno im sorry" You begged him, hoping he let it slide but lee jeno is lee jeno. your eyebrows frowning on how good he's making you feel waiting for his answer eagerly. "Too late" without a warning his fingers find their way inside your folds curling them and hitting every sweet spot of your needy pussy that makes writhing in pleasure.
"just like that...fucking slut, let me hear every sound you make" He added, straightening the fingers inside of you and going a little faster, loving how wet you were.“God, you're so wet and desperate for me.” 
You moaned louder as his thumb circled your clit, hips jutting up. “Ahh!—” Your pleasure soon turned to be unbearable “Oh, my god! hnn—Jeno!” He wasn’t gentle in the slightest, fingers working you until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, and just when you think you’ll come, he’s pulling away and slapping a hand against your quivering pussy. “You'll cum only when I allow you to” He rasps, mouth hot against yours.
"P-please don't do this to me I said I'm sorry" He let you whine but it wasn't long before you were interrupted by the sound of his belt, which made your poor body shiver.
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“I’ve ap- apologized, jeno sl- ow down.”Jeno ignored you and thrusted harder, earning another whimper from you. no matter how you move he wouldn’t budge.
Since you didn't stop moving and without hesitation he flipped you onto your stomach and spanked your ass until it's numb and red, grabbed your waist harshly making sure to leave his fingerprints on your skin as you arch your back from pain and pleasure. “This is what you deserve for being impatient" ,tugging you back against him until his cock went inside you again "you can do better than just apologizing with words, prove it to me needy girl.”
You moan, fingers clutching against the couch as he rains down another series of slaps against your ass, each one stinging more than the last. It’s on the fifth one that you bite down on the leather fabric, desperate to muffle the annoying sound of your voice.
Jeno doesn’t like it that much wrapping his fingers in your hair, tugging you up until your back is pressed against his chest. He growls against the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna cry, and you’re gonna do it loud, show me how sorry you are"
Your eyes were burning from all the crying, you ended up submitting to him. Allowing him to use your body however he liked. You were on the verge of passing out when he picked you up and began fucking you as hard as possible "scream my name and make me fucking proud"
"Jeno! I wanna cum please" You sob fingernails digging into his forearm. Him telling you how good you're taking his cock and that your apology is still not accepted, the tears of yesterday’s forgotten placed by tears of pleasure. "So pretty" a low growl escaped his lips.
an hour passed – maybe two – you’ve lost count from the amount of times jeno has made you cum after denying your orgasms for long enough to make you break, your legs are giving out, shaking from pleasure after teaching you a lesson of respect.
it seems he misses you just as much, can't stop fucking you even when your pussy is dripping full of his cum, breasts swollen all marked and ready to learn your second lesson of patience, one more night.
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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hope you enjoyed it as mush as I did writing it, i ended up choosing jeno for this one bc he fits it perfectly and bc I couldn't stop thinking about being manhandled by him ^^ anyways ty for reading♡
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831 notes · View notes
yanderederee · 4 months
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SocialCues
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a/n: Been feeling a little down lately.. very self-comfort, but I hope anyone else who has deep rooted anxiety and poor social skills can appreciate this…
cw: depictions of bullying and self-degradation/anxiety. Angst/Comfort
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Why did this always happen? How, even?
You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around how you always found yourself in these damned situations…
After being left alone at your desk, you quietly listened as the classmate who had just walked away whispered to themselves.
“What a freak…”
What did you even do? A freak? You were rightfully polite and pleasant, just as you always have been.
Did you say something wrong? Something weird? All you did was ask your classmate about their dog. Out of all the subjects you were taught to bring up in conversation, pets and hobbies were a universal win. (Strictly of the other person, because if you started going on a rant about your own pet or hobbies, you would make the person feel awkward and at a loss for words.)
How is it you always had a way of making everyone you talk to feel so awkward and bored?
But it was so lonely being forced into submissive quietness. You may have hated that more than the quiet glares of others. So still, you try to do your best and talk to people.
But only after a month of trying, it was evident that others were beginning to avoid you. To avoid talking to you. Avoiding eye contact.
You repeated what you’ve been told over and over again.
Saying less is more.
Use considerate language; words and phrasings.
Don’t make the conversation about yourself.
Avoid too specific points of conversation.
Read their facial expressions.
If they look desperate to leave, end the conversation quickly as to not bother them further.
Maybe being too conscious of what you said was your downfall?
But seriously, what else could you do? If you tried being casual, you make it awkward. If you tried too hard, you make it awkward. And if you don’t try at all, you force yourself into isolation.
Once lunch time rolled around, you started your way to the bathrooms to wash your hands before eating. How could you eat when your hands were covered in eraser shavings and lead stains? However, just at the threshold of the bathroom entrance, you could hear a conversation.
“L/n just doesn’t know when to shut up, does she?”
“Seriously! I can’t even get in a word with her!”
“Really? I just felt like she wasn’t even there when I tried talking to her! Like, she was waiting for me to ask her questions or something.”
“She asks way too many questions, like, why are you so obsessed with me?”
“She doesn’t really have much of a personality, I can’t stand people like that!”
“I dunno, I just can’t stand her.”
Honestly, they were pretty loud. People around the bathroom could definitely hear whoever it was talking.
You honestly didn’t even know how to react.
Maybe this was a good thing? At least this way you knew what you were doing wrong. Unfiltered criticism on how you could do better. So silently, you stood and listened.
It really hurt, hearing people talk about you like this. But it was your fault in the first place. Suck it up. Do better. Be better.
Holding back your tears, you fidgeted with your fingers. It was no good. You were bound to burst out in tears at any second.
“Oi.” Out came a sudden call. Startled, your heart leapt out of your chest. Looking up, you saw your classmate, Baji Keisuke, holding three filing boxes of what you assumed to be pre-graded tests and other miscellaneous paperwork. “Lend me a hand, would ya? Teach wants these taken to the teachers lounge before lunch’s over.”
It took you a few seconds to properly register that he was actually talking to you. Though it was hard to tell, given his huge thick rimmed glasses. Once it finally clicked that he was actually talking to you, a wave of embarrassment hit you hard.
“Me? Oh, uhh… o-okay.” You agreed slowly, looking at your dirty hands. You guessed it would be more suitable to wait to wash your hands after carrying a dusty box. Somewhat relieved, you nodded and walked over to your black haired classmate, gingerly shifting the top most box out of his face, into your grip. “Just this one is fine, or should I grab another..?”
You began to ask, until you were met with awkward silence.
SHIT. YOU DID IT AGAIN? Already? Embarrassed to the point of tears, you started down. “S-sorry, dumb question.”
Your classmate seemed disgruntled at your comment. Self pity never looked good. You were just digging yourself into a more massive hole. Just shut up and take the boxes.
Lift your fair share.
Almost forgot that rule.
Just as you went to shuffle the second box out from his grasp, your class mate stepped back. “I got these, just the one is fine.” He said.
“Just the one?” You asked.
“Yeah.. I mean, not to sound like an ass— I mean, um…” he clicked his tongue, trying to think of a better way to rephrase his comment.
“You can say ass, I don’t care.” You giggled quietly. You were faking it a little, what with how shot your confidence was already. But it was cute watching Baji flounder for the right words.
“Right. What I mean is, I’m probably stronger than you are, carrying these isn’t any issue. I just needed help with the third one since it was blocking my view.”
That made sense. He was damn near a foot taller than you after all. And he didn’t seem to struggle with the load in strength. Your silence made your classmate a little on edge.
“I ain’t trying to call you weak or anything. Shit. Just.. lets go.” He huffed before starting his way to the stair case.
Following close behind, you were scrambling your head with how to reply. Do you need to reply? But he sounded a little unsure of his own phrasing, sometimes validation was good for these kinds of situations.
‘It’s okay, I didn’t think you were calling me weak.’
Simulating the conversation in your head, you give up, rationalizing that your comment would more than likely go unanswered anyway.
Lost in these thoughts, you trailed behind Baji silently.
That’s right.
When it doubt, just be quiet. Just. Be quiet.
And it seemed your classmate was content with this as well.
Just as you were rounding the stairs, you were suddenly overwhelmed by a group of boys roughhousing with one another, laughing and unbothered. Before you even had the chance to move out of their way, a boy had rammed into your side hard. This caused for a series of unfortunate events.
Being as you were just making your way down the stairs, this rash shove caused you to lose your balance, trip over your feet, and topple forward. It wasn’t pretty. You definitely did at least one summersault on your crash down, the box of papers you held flying everywhere. What would have made it worse was if you had crashed into Baji on your way down, but luckily for both of you, he had walked at a much quicker pace, and had already reached the bottom of the staircase before your topple.
It was dead silent. Luckily, there weren’t too many students around, but there were enough. The boys looked back to one another, contemplating if they could just run off before you realized who they were, stay and help, or even apologize. You were the weirdo of their class after all, it’s not like these kinds of things didn’t just… happen.
“The hells your guys’ problem, huh?!” Baji yelled. It was really loud, louder than you’d ever heard him before. “Got a death wish or somethin’? Help pick this shit up, now!”
Hell with his reputation, this shit pissed him off way more than his tempter would allow him to suppress.
“R-right!” The boys who’d bumped into you nodded and scrambled to pick up all the scattered papers. “And apologize!” Baji yelled a second time, furious that they hadn’t even considered to do that first.
“We’re really sorry!! We weren’t looking, it was an accident!! We’re sorry!” They groveled low to the ground as they cleaned up the mess of their own making.
Baji huffed, but seeing as they were doing exactly as he told, he let it be for now. He sat his own boxes down gently, squatting over to help you up. “Hey, you okay?” He asked.
“No—“ you snapped in a sarcastic tone, but it was only out of bubbling up frustration and humiliation. Clearing out your throat, before he would reply, you started to pick up the papers scattered at your bruised knees. “Yeah, sorry. I’m okay; just didn’t expect it.. sorry I dropped the box. Sorry.” You repeated quietly, head hung low.
You only ever made trouble. If you’d just moved out of the way faster, you wouldn’t have messed up so harshly. Even if they were clearly in the wrong, if you’d just caught your footing instead of tripping, none of this would have happened.
“Come on, these bastards can take the rest from here.” Baji glared while his glasses slipped past his nose, leaving each boy trembling in fear. “W-we’ve got it from here..” One nodded in defeat.
Baji grabbed your shoulders, you rushed you to your feet. “Don’t worry about this, ‘going to the nurse.” He had an aura of order around him while helping you down the remaining stairs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to walk me..” you mumbled, not even sure it was worth going to the nurse for anyway. All you did was fall.
“You’ve got a few knots, and a lot of bruising. You should really be put on ice.” Baji looked you over as the two of you walked. “It had to of hurt. Seriously, those guys should have been looking where they were going. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll make sure they properly apologize again later.”
You chuckled humorlessly, and waved him off, eyes still glued downcast. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was an accident.”
“Accident or not, they’re gonna pay.” He muttered. “Sorry to trouble you, you’d probably have been better off if I just took the boxes all myself.”
“No worries, I wanted to help.”
Once you reached the nurse, Baji stopped you before going in. “You’re L/n, right?”
“Y-yeah, Y/n L/n… I sit in the front, a few rows to the right of where you sit.”
“Right. Sorry bout that again, I’ll let the teacher know you’ll be back a little later than lunch, so don’t sweat hurrying back. Just take your time.”
When was the first the anyone was this considerate of your wellbeing? Sure, it was a common courtesy, but it was still out of the norm. He gave a final look over of you, he seemed to narrow his brows further. “Well … I’m off. Seriously, take it easy.” He waved, and stepped back, waiting for you to enter.
“Right… thank you, Baji.” You have a slight bow before escaping into the nurses office.
⋆。 ゚ 。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆
You were so tired. Maybe it would be best to let it go. Just accept you weren’t able to make friends. Finally accept something was actually wrong with you, and just stop trying.
Murmurs about your little fall were the talk of the class after lunch. Apparently the guys who bumped into you were actually pretty popular. Spreading misinformation about what happened, and making you out to be the bad guy. Seriously, what did you ever do to them? It wasn’t fair.
Overwhelmed, the end of the day came, and it was becoming impossible to tune out all 20 different conversations happening simultaneously as students filed out of the classroom. You bit your tongue and waited. The room would become empty before too long.
One by one, everyone left. And you were finally left alone. Finally. The weight of the day finally began to settle in the newfound quietness.
You quietly laid your head down on your desk, and held your arm sleeves tightly. Just breath. Why is it no matter what, you always make things worse? It was so suffocating, you didn’t even realize how harsh your breathing had become. Tears burned your eyes, and suddenly you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Openly sobbing into your sleeves, you huddled in upon yourself closer.
This sucked! What the hell! You didn’t do anything wrong! So why…
It didn’t do any good to think about it further than that. All thinking did was make it worse. Stop thinking. Just pretend like it didn’t happen. Pretend like you don’t hear anyone when they talk behind your back anymore. Pretend like your knees don’t hurt, like your feelings weren’t crushed. No one cared anyway. Suck it up.
Do better. Be better. Stop crying. Stop—
“Hey…” you heard a soft voice call out beside you. Your breath hitched. Was the classroom not empty? Did you seriously start crying in front of someone like that? This had to be the worst day.
You felt something cold touch your shoulder, and what you can only assume to be a juice box plopped down on your desk.
You didn’t lift your head. Soon to follow, the slight screech in a chair pulled out beside you, and the shifting of clothes. “Leave me alone…” you said softly; hoarsely.
“I thought about it… but it kinda seems like you could use a friend.” Wait, you recognized that voice. Ever so slightly, you turned your head to the side, and peeked past your hair to see Baji sitting slouched and wide legged beside you.
Still, you couldn’t let him see you like this. Rubbing your eyes against the material of your sleeve, you mumbled again. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to do all that.”
He was quiet. You were hopeful that he wouldn’t push the pity treatment further. The juice box was enough. It was thoughtful, and sweet. He was trying. But it was unnecessary. You’d forget about today soon enough.
Baji wasn’t sure what he should do. Maybe he should just leave you alone. He wasn’t really that good at comforting people, and you really didn’t seem in the mood to talk.
He’d never talked to you before today anyway.
Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to do it.
Anytime your name was brought to mention, it was always some bullshit gossip he never cared to listen to. You kept a low profile and seemed to always have a cheery aura about you. Those rumors were just that, rumors. It kind of reminded himself of when people would mumble about him behind his back when he first got held back. Sure, everything that everyone said about him was true, about being a delinquent, or being dumb. But it didn’t seem that way with you.
“People are assholes and just say shit to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m friends with a bunch of weirdos— some real freaks, so I can confidently say you aren’t as weird as people make you out to be.”
Well, it was a nice thought, if anything else. You giggled, sniffling a last few times before turning away from Baji, and wiping your face clean. You faced forward, a guilty smile decorating your features.
Baji Keisuke wasn’t ever really one to notice a person’s appearance, not for girls anyway. Yet he couldn’t help but admire you. Maybe it was the puffiness of your eyes and lashes, all clumped up together in wet mattes. Or maybe it was the gentle smile of giving up that twisted his heart into feeling like he should help you. To get closer to you.
“H-here.” Baji stuttered, and held out his glasses to you. “I don’t actually need them, they’re just for show. You were trying to hide you were crying, right?”
You blinked suspiciously at him, who was a little red faced and shifting of his own gaze. Was he trying to be considerate? Either way, it made you laugh. “Why do you wear them if you don’t need them?” You took the bait, and reached out for the plastic glasses.
“Well, I’ve been told I can look, intimidating, kinda. Like I’m always glarin’ or something. S-so, I guess that’s why?” He couldn’t exactly tell you he didn’t want to be recognized for being Tokyo Manji Gang’s first division captain.
“That so?” You played along, putting the glasses on in playful banter. “Huh, you’re right. They’re fake.” You smiled, and looked back over at Baji. Immediately, Baji broke out into a fit of laughter.
“Bwaaahaha! What the hell! You look so dorky!” He toppled onto himself, holding his side. You immediately followed his fit of laughter, kicking the chair below him. “I look dorky? Speak for yourself poindexter! You’re the one who looks goofy on the daily!”
Normally, those comments would cause Baji to roll his eyes, but with how lighthearted the air was, it only managed to make him laugh harder.
It felt good, laughing so hard with someone. A stranger even. “Alright, come on’, I’ll treat you to some ramen. You had to skip out on eating lunch since I asked you to help me right? You gatta be starving.” Baji offered, hoisting himself up and out of his chair, pushing it in.
“Well…” you thought about it. You’d hate to put him out and cause anymore unnecessary trouble. Yet, for once, you felt like you understood the social cues going on around you. Being able to relax, smile and laugh with someone, and they offer to take you out for food? Would it really be a bad thing to accept?
“Sure…”
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myun-saidthoughts · 9 months
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Who Feels The Effects of 8th & 12th House Synastry?
(Can also apply to someone's Pluto/Neptune harshly aspecting your inner planets)
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If the person in question possess placements in Pisces, Neptune, Scorpio or Pluto, the 12th house, or the 8th house, along with having challenging aspects towards their Moon/IC/fall or detriment placements, they will more than likely sense an immediate energetic shift in your presence. While you will also feel the intensity, they are the ones profoundly affected by the energies you emanate. This can be further seen when their housing placements activate placements in your natal chart, igniting areas of heightened energy you were unaware of.
If you are the one who has these placements, then it is likely you will feel the intensity of the connection more than them, (primarily in the beginning).
That being said, someone having these placements indicates that they've experienced a harsher upbringing in their childhood. Internal struggles might have occurred where the parent(s) weren’t nurturing or emotionally/physically there. So, now when it comes to romantic partners, if the individual is not aware of their deep-rooted pain or fear of true intimacy, unwanted patterns and situations will keep repeating.
Having the Sun/Moon or many planets in the 12th house might indicate physically absent parents, the Sun represents the father and the Moon represents the mother. Having a natal 12th house Sun or Moon might showcase emotional or physical distance and connection with a parent. Emotions were under-wrapped, clear communication or understanding wasn’t a common theme in their life. Especially if the individual has multiple planets in the 12th house, having this house as a prominent influence would heighten their sensitivity to energy and emotions. Boundaries within may be blurred unaware of how one should be treated due to the lack of care they felt, and whatever planet is located in the 12th house would showcase the lack of emotional connection and theme that the individual would experience.
When it comes to natal 8th house placements, having a lot of prominent planets in this house can indicate dealing with a lot of ego deaths and rebirths for this individual. Lessons started very early for them, and loss could have been a common experience, and fear of intimacy or true vulnerability might have reigned within their veins. Often times they undergo tons of transformation because of how much trauma they might of experienced growing up (entire natal chart is needed though for this to manifest heavily). Extremes might have also been a common theme for them; where maybe the individual grew up wealthy or well off and then one day lost it all, or they had a massive family then suddenly had to move away due to unforeseen circumstances. Especially if this individual has a Water Moon with challenging aspects, their mother could have been MIA then emotionally turbulent, where she gave love one second then completely abandoned them in the next (scorpio). Or where she was overly needy/emotional making them act as a parent (cancer) or as a savior that swept anyway pain for their parent(s) (pisces), being nurtured or cared for was unlikely therefore now they might struggle with accepting true intimacy and love.
With the 8th house, there is one clear distinction compared to the 12th house, and that is the 8th house doesn't have any hidden agendas. Everything is out in the open, the good and the bad. Pain was often something that occurred in the native’s life, (depending on other factors such as the Moon’s aspects and the IC) but in general, emotions run deep, and they run outwardly, especially if the native has a water Moon, (Scorpio, Cancer or Pisces). The planet that falls in the 8th house and it's aspects would paint a better picture of how much intensity this individual would experience (more exact descriptions in my eBook)
One common theme I notice when it comes to those who deal with such intensity in this synastry; is the fact that the person who is undoubtedly going through the most pain and turmoil has unresolved parental wounds that now bleed in every relationship they enter. Either one or both parents were emotionally or physically absent, and the type of love that they were surrounded with was either cold or lacking in one area of life. The love their parents gave them was either not enough or not right. This is more true for those w a poor aspected IC/Moon/fall or detriment placements etc.
Your sole caregivers, the people who are supposed to unconditionally love, care, nurture, and choose you didn’t; and that alone brings the deepest pain you now hold. You may not even be aware of that void you possess because in intricate situations your caregivers could have been there in ways that might satisfy others, yet for your soul, that satisfaction and safety that you needed and deserved, never came. Oftentimes when the individual has heavy 8th or 12th house placements (w a poor aspected IC/Moon/fall or detriment placements etc) this also could mean having a parent that chose themselves, others, substances, situations, or opportunities over you, creating a lack of self-worth and value that you now carry.
To gain a deeper understanding of the intensity experienced through this synastry, it is crucial to first comprehend the individuals' life experiences and the circumstances they have faced. By doing so, one can better grasp the extent to which the person will be affected by this synastry. Moreover, in some extreme cases, this understanding can unveil the true origins of toxic patterns. If one is unhealed or afraid to acknowledge and let their deep rooted pain go, finding a true partner is difficult.
In extreme situations, these individuals might tell themself that it’s easier to run from real connections or partners, yet there is a part of them that is eagerly wanting a safe home. So with that, there's now a side of them that they lock and hide away, and at the core, there exists a deep-seated fear within—an apprehension of allowing someone to truly see and know the entirety of who they are.
With 8th house synastry and if you have these deep-rooted fears/abandonment wounds then this would manifest as you clinging onto this individual for dear life. They somehow become this one home you’ve always desired, and that peace you’ve always wished for now is present, but only when you’re with them. 
With 12th house synastry and if you have these deep-rooted fears/abandonment wounds, then this would make you feel safe loving someone whom you know will never truly be yours. You feel safe sitting in the area of uncertainty because accepting true real love scares you to your core.
Therefore the second you realize these individuals who touch your deepest wounds; won’t ever give you the soothing love or care you deeply wish for, the power that they have on your emotions and well-being will dissipate. They are just reflecting the pain that you now suppress from past partnerships and childhood experiences.
In my eBook, I have provided more precise definitions regarding the placements of the IC, Moon aspects, and the potential manifestations of each inner planet in the 8th or 12th house for individuals. You can find the link to my eBook pinned on my page for easy access.
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ikigaisvt · 9 months
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Everything Everywhere All at Once
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You have always loved Vernon and that much he knows. What he doesn't know is that you love him more than a best friend probably should. He also doesn't know you're virgin; but that has no correlation, right? Or does it?
What you don't know about him? Well, he's in love with you too. And surprise, surprise, he's a virgin too.
pairing: reader x vernon, she/her!reader x vernon, virgin!reader x virgin!vernon, inexperienced!reader x somewhat experienced!vernon, bottom!reader x top!vernon (but no real power dynamics) words: 3.9k content: smut, fluff, slight angst warnings: dirty talk (subtle), begging, praising, fingering, first time for mcs, protected sex, kinda love making, very sappy tbh, vernon is vry horny, they're desperate for each other, petnames (for reader: babe, baby, sweetheart, my girl, girlfriend / for vernon: babe, baby, boyfriend), vernon is called pretty, slight angst ig?, reader wears lingerie note: MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI. i first thought of this idea after playing a silly kpop dating game with my bff and i got vernon as my best friend and first time,,, i thought it fit him all too well so i decided to write it! you absolutely don't have to know the movie EEAAO to read this, it's absolutely not related to its story. the last paragraph of the fic is inspired by a quote from EEAAO which i'll put here "of all the places i could be, i just want to be here with you." (same quote as on the banner). also, once again, shout out to @homerunhansol for hyping me up while i was in the process of writing this and for being so excited! this one is for you, my fav dolly 🫶
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You love Vernon. You really do. You don't think you could have lived your life without him and thanks god you didn't had to. You often talk about being soulmates with each other; how the feeling of being together transcends anything else. Any love you have ever felt feels so little compared to what he makes you feel.
And people must be thinking how lucky you are to have such a wonderful partner.
But here's the problem: Vernon is your best friend and you have been in love with him for as long as you can remember.
As Vernon looks at his best friend sat next to him, on his couch, in his dorm, he wonders how a situation can feel so blessed and yet so cursed. He truly thinks being your best friend is the greatest gift in his life; you are an amazing friend, you never fail to support him and let him know how precious he is to this world. You understand every single one of his obsessions, from movies to cats to tacos. Despite all of this, you will forever – at least he thinks so – a source of hurt for him. Vernon has been in love with you for as long as he can remember and that's a lot of time. You have always been part of his life, just like his love for you has always been here, rooted deep in his heart, never swaying or moving aside for anyone else.
He knows it's all because of this love that he's still a virgin. He also knows that he probably should have gotten over it by now and lose his virginity with the numerous girls who have tried to get with him. He truly knows all this and yet he cannot get over this deep-rooted emotion he feels when you look at him, just as you are doing right now.
"Vernon? Earth to Vernon?" you say, waving your hand in front of his eyes, "Are you even listening to me?" you ask him, chuckling.
"Sorry, was up in my head for a sec." he answers, turning to give you his full attention.
"Let me guess, were you thinking about Everything Everywhere All at Once, again?" you tease him in a smile.
"No, I wasn't," he says, frowning a little, "It wasn't anything important." It was important.
"Okay, if you say so!" you tell him cheerfully, "Anyway, as I was saying, I was on a date with this boy and you know what was one of his first question?" you ask him, waiting for his answer which comes in a shake of his head, "If I was a virgin!" you say, dropping your hand in a dramatic way, "When I told him I was still one, he bolted out of that café-"
"Wait, you're still a virgin?" Vernon asks, completely surprised at the news. If there was someone who could pulled anyone, it'd be you.
"Oh, you missed that part too?" you tell him, still annoyed at the memory of said boy, Vernon nodding again, too shocked to let any words out, "yeah I confessed to- no I mean, I broke the news like 5 minutes ago. What you were thinking about must have been really important. Anyway, now I’m thinking I really need to get rid of my virginity card because it's blocking every relationship for me."
"But how can you get rid of it? It's not like you're going to jump on the first boy who's slightly interested in you?" he says, in disbelief at your words, "Right?"
"No! Of course not," you say trying to calm down your nerves at what you're about to say, "That's why I was thinking about this- What if you become my first time?" you finally throw as Vernon takes a sip of his coke, making him choke on it.
"What?" he answers in a strangled voice.
"Listen to me before you say no, please!" you beg, your hands joined in front of you, "I just- I trust you and I love you and you are definitely experienced," I am definitely not, Vernon thinks to himself, his cock already straining in his pants at the thought of even touching you, "And I can't think of anyone else better than you for this." you conclude, looking desperately in his eyes for any sign that you did not scared him away.
"This is a crazy idea, Y/N." his voice still hoarse from the coke incident.
"It really isn't," you fight back, "We don't have to talk about it to anyone. It will just be between me and you."
"Do you really trust me with this?" he asks you, pondering about the idea. if I say yes, when I say yes, it will be for me only, Vernon says to himself. So selfish. "If we do this, I have one request." Vernon tells you, already knowing his answer.
"Anything you want." you tell him, already eager to please. Cute.
"You have to watch Everything Everywhere All at Once with me." he asks, making this easier on purpose – if he’s true to himself he’s doing it mostly for him rather than you.
It's a few days later, when you scrubbed every inch of your skin that you and Vernon meet up – in your apartment (as it is roommate free) so you can, quite literally, fuck around. If someone told you months ago, you'd be doing this with your best friend, you wouldn’t believe them.
When Vernon walks in your apartment, you can see the anxiety on his face and in the way he holds himself. You’re starting to think you have broken your best friend with your proposition.
"You good?" you ask him, getting a hold of his hand, making him jump out.
"Y-Yeah! I'm fine," he tells you, his cock hardening already hardening against his pants for you.
"Come on," you say as you give him your hand, leading him to the bedroom.
When you both go into your room, Vernon notices how it is cleaner than any other day, no clothes lying on the floor (even though that will not last) while your bed is done nicely. You sit down at the foot of the bed, Vernon still standing in front of you.
"How- How do we process?" Vernon asks you, his knees shaking slightly.
"We don't have to do this, you know?" you say softly, "Maybe it was a bad idea after all." you mumble.
"No, no, no," he tells you hastily, falling on his knees to get to eyes level with you, "It's fine. I want to do this." he says, holding your hands tightly. "Do you?"
"Yeah, I want to do this too." you say, looking up at him with doe eyes.
"That's good to know," he chuckles slightly, stroking your hand with his thumb, "Can I kiss you?"
"Hm, you can." The nerves starting to get to you too, before easing up when Vernon gets a hold of your hand.
He leans in slowly at first, so you can back out at any moment but when he feels your hand squeeze his in a you can kiss me, he slams his lips to yours. He feels your hands move to his shirt, grabbing it tightly. After a few seconds of a sweet kiss, you part, feeling the emotion of finally sharing a kiss settle down in the pit of your stomach. You hide your face in his neck, whining softly.
"What is it?" he whispers, rubbing your back over your shirt.
"Nothing, 'm fine." you mumble, raising your head slightly, kissing at his jaw, making him shudder. You make your way back to his mouth, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the way. Vernon hisses at each one, feeling sensitive already, his cock getting harder every time your lips touch his skin.
"Can I kiss you again?" you whisper against his lips.
"Of course," he says as he gets up, "Come on, lay down for me."
"Y-Yeah, okay."
"Good." he says as he gets onto the bed, holding himself up above you.
"Come here," you mumble softly, raising your arms to touch him, "please."
Vernon lowers himself, your nose touching, as you close the space between your lips, opening your mouth slightly. You moan quietly when he starts to kiss you harder as if he wanted to do this his whole life. If only you knew.
As the kiss gets even more heated, you start to play with the hem of his shirt, wanting him to get it off so you can feel him completely.
"Want me to get this off?" he asks you, trying to keep it together for your sake. After all, you think he has experience.
"Yeah," you breath out, "I can take mine off too." you whisper softly.
"it's okay, you don't have to," he utters, sitting up on his heels, "Anything you're comfortable with."
"I want to." you tell him, looking up with shiny eyes.
"Alright, baby." he answers before pulling up his shirt, revealing his toned torso, blushed a light pink.
"You look so pretty-" you sigh out, laying your hand on his stomach, feeling his happy trail under your palm.
"T-Thank you." he mumbles, reaching out for your shirt in a sign that he wants to see you too. Your shirt gets pulled off in a few seconds, revealing a pretty baby pink bra, made mostly of lace.
"Fuck- You look so good," he moans out, his pants getting tighter at every passing second, “Is this for me?" he asks in a low voice, reaching out for your chest, almost hissing – as you moan – at the sensation of the lace under his fingers, as if it burns him.
"Hm, yeah," you admit in a small voice, "Wanted to be pretty for you- It's a matching set, too." you moan out at the way he plays with your covered tits. He must have done this to so many girls, you think to yourself, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes but you push it down. If you can have him at least once, you will take it. No matter how much it hurts.
"You're going to kill me," he whines, the desperation making the fire in the pit of his stomach grow bigger and bigger, "Can I see?"
"Yeah." you nod, feeling the shyness gather up in a blush all the way down your neck. As soon as the words are out of your mouth, he works at the buttons on your pants, chuckling slightly at the way his hands are shaking from nervousness. Once your pants slide down, Vernon gasps at the way your baby pink panties hug your pussy so well.
"It looks gorgeous- No, I mean- You look gorgeous." he sighs out, the stress making him mumble rapidly.
"Thank you," you exhale, clutching onto his hand tightly, "Why are you so nervous? You already did this. I’m sure you know what to do."
"Well- I know what I’m doing b-but only up until this point." he mumbles under his breath, finally confessing to being a virgin too.
"What do you mean?" you ask, not quite understanding the situation.
"I mean- I already did all this and some more. I already used my fingers on someone but-" he chokes out, the words not quite wanting to form in his throat, "I’m a virgin too."
"Oh." you say softly, shocked that your best friend – whom you are deeply in love with and who's extremely hot, is a virgin too. He softly lets go of his hold on your hand, understanding that you might want to back out of your arrangement. After all, this is not what you were expecting.
"I’d understand if you don't want to keep going." he utters.
"Hey," you interject gently, holding his hand once again, "Can I know why?"
He sighs out; "Maybe one day I will tell you." In a very very very long time.
"Okay, that's fine," you smile, "It doesn't matter anyway."
"No? It doesn't?" he asks, surprised.
"No, it doesn’t. I want you," you reply, looking up at him, a pleading look across your face, "And I’m so wet. You can't just leave me like this."
"Fuck- Okay," he murmurs, knowing you want him and not his experience making this whole situation way different, "What can I do? I don't want to do something you don't want."
"Will you touch me? Please?" you ask, your hands softly touching his back, goosebumps appearing on his skin.
"Can you open your legs for me, baby?" he asks, his hands pushing your legs open gently. You fall open at his might, Vernon seeing your pretty panty with a wet patch already showing.
"Shit baby- You're so fucking wet for me already."
"i told you so," you whine as your hips buck at him, "Will you touch me n-" you choke out, not even being able to finish your phrase that his fingers meet over your panties, rubbing your clit in a circle motion. Your moans fill the room pretty soon and its only music to Vernon’s ears.
"You sound so good for me- you're driving me crazy." he tells you, his cock pressing against the harshness of his pants' seam making him groan out. He knows he already ruined his briefs from how much pre-cum is oozing from his cock.
"Shit- Vernon," you say, choking out on your moans, "Just get rid of my panties, please."
"Y-Yeah, of course, sure," he mumbles, panicking at the thought of seeing your pussy in full light. He tugs at your panties, your hips raising to help him get it off, "You look so pretty," he says, the second it's off, already teasing your hole with one finger, "Everywhere. You look so pretty, everywhere." he rectifies, blushing deeply. "I’ll start slow, okay? Tell me if it hurts or you want me to stop."
"Don't worry," you say as you grasp at his other hand, intertwining your fingers together, "I will." you whisper, bringing your intertwined hands to your lips, kissing his knuckles.
He slowly thrust his index, feeling your warmth hugging him tight, making him wonder how the fuck are you even gonna take his cock.
“You good, babe?” he tells you, breathless, brushing your hair out of your face messily.
“Yeah- feels so good.” you say, in a high pitch, already choking on pleasure. “You can move. I- can take it.” you assure him, closing your eyes, letting your body fall into the slow rhythm he settled for.
Vernon works you open slowly, your hips bucking up slightly at the sensation after he adds a second finger.
“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he says, your walls clamping around his fingers, “How are you even going to take me?” he mumbles under his breath as he never stops his movements, bringing you so close to the edge.
“I’m so close, please-” You beg, wanting to fall off the edge already. Your hand grips his even harder, wanting to feel him all at once.
“You can come whenever, okay? Just let me know,” he replies, adding pressure to your clit with his thumb, “I might need to prepare my heart to see my pretty girl cum.”
“Stop being so silly,” you say, short of breath, “you might kill the mood.”
“I’m not silly,” he says out loud but as you fall of the edge he adds, “I’m just in love with you.” quietly, thinking you will not hear it with the fog shortening all of your sensations but your sense of touch. You feel Vernon everywhere; in the depth of your brain, thoughts of him dazing everything for you and also in the beating of your heart, how it slows down when his breath gets caught in his throat and how it speeds up when he utters a word, especially when he confesses of being in love with you. Your pleasure keeps going up and up, thinking of how he’s in love with you as much as you’re in love with him, until it starts to goes down and you realize he doesn’t know you heard him and that you love him too.
“Me too.” you whisper, once you catch your breath, as if loving him is still a shameful secret that should never be brought into daylight.
“This is not the kind of things people say after their first orgasm.” he utters as he rubs at your hips, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m in love with you too.” you clarify, bringing your hand up to the hair falling into his eyes as shock can be read on his face.
“Y-you heard me?” he answers quietly, his world slightly crumbling around him as his brain didn’t register your words just yet.
“Yeah, I did.” you chuckle slightly as your rub at his hand, waiting for realization to hit him. Realization that you love him too.
“Shit- this is so ba-” he starts, before cutting himself off, “did you just say you’re in love with me too?”
“Yeah, I did.” You repeat, amusement showing on your face.
“Oh. Oh.” He utters, happiness making its way on his face as quickly as pink tint his cheeks, “Do you, really? You’re not just saying this, right? It’s not an in-the-moment thing? You really do, right?” he babbles fast, nervousness still present within his heart – and in his voice.
“Vernon, baby,” you say, grabbing his face in your two hands, stroking his cheeks, “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I got to learn about love. This is the cheesiest thing I can probably say but it’s the truth. You’re who taught me love, who made me realize I’d never settle for someone who loves me less than you do. Trust me when I say I love you; I do, in every way. As a best friend and as a girl who thought she was in an unrequited love all of her life.” you confess, hoping it can ease his nerves – mostly so he can fuck you. You want him even more, now.
“Do you know you just made this whole thing way hotter, now?” He mumbles, redness still covering his cheeks – and even his torso.
“By confessing my undying love for you?” you giggle, your hands resting on his shoulders, playing with his hair at back of his neck, “I’m glad then, baby.”
“Do you want to keep doing this?” he asks, leaning down to kiss at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from one side to the other as your hands wrap around his shoulder, whining at the way he’s so eager to please you.
“Baby- yeah, please,” you plead, “I want you.”
Vernon groans slightly at your desperation, thinking that maybe all along you wanted to have him and not just to have someone take your virgin card. Vernon keeps leaving kisses along your neckline, your collarbones, your jaw, slowly working you two up again; you, pleased by the sensation of his warm mouth marking your body forever and him, thrilled to please you as he hears your sweet whimpers begging him to fuck you. He detaches himself from you, despite your whines making him want to grab you in his arms and never let you go, to take a condom from his jean’s back pocket. He climbs on the bed again, sitting on his heels as he puts the condom on, while you watch him resting on your elbows.
“Are you ready?” Vernon asks as he finds his place over you again, opening your legs slightly with his hand while you lay down again.
“Hm, I am,” you whisper, brushing his hair back, “Are you?”
“Y-yeah,” he says, offering his hand to you in a please hold me, “take a deep breath for me, okay? I read it can sting but we will go slow, okay?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I trust you.” you add before he pushes his tip inside. He keeps going so he fully settles in you, your pussy clenching around him as your hand squeezes his.
“You’re okay?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before leaving a full of love kiss against it.
“Hm, j-just give me a minute.” you utter out, leaning into his touch against your cheek.
“You feel so good around me, my girl.” he whispers as he moans out loud at the way you clench around him at his words.
“Y-you can move.” you tell him, feeling your slight pain subside, only for pleasure to replace it.
As soon as he settles a gentle rhythm, you can feel his pleasure building up as he moans out louder at every passing second, your whines mixing with his, your pleasure sitting in the pit of your stomach.
“Babe- fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he whines, loving the way you tighten around him, “You feel so good- fuck, you’re so good for me.” he mumbles incoherently, pleasure taking over his every cells.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you whimper, “you can cum, cum for me, cum for me, baby,” you tell him, holding him as he plops against your chest, his hip giving one last push as he comes, burbling against your shoulder – a mix of moans, I love you’s and thank you’s.
You rub his back for a few minutes, waiting for him to come down his high, feeling his breath hit your neck every time he exhales. His heart, which you feel strumming against your chest, slowly calm down before he pulls out of you and gets up to get rid of the condom. He’s quickly back on the bed, holding himself over you, his face still harboring a pretty hue of red, drops of sweat still showing at his hairline.
“You look so pretty,” you whisper, looking up at him with stars in your eyes, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispers, a deeper shade of red creeping on his cheeks, “you didn’t come.” He mumbles under his breath, a slight pout making its way on his lips.
“It’s okay,” you mumble, slowly pushing him back so you can straddle him, “we have a whole life now, don’t we?” you laugh, kissing his cheek before getting up, “Come on! We need to shower.”
It’s only after a shared shower and countless kisses that you find yourself under the sheet again your head resting against his naked chest. You gently play with his fingers as it rests over the sheet, his other hand lightly rubbing at your bare back, giving you goosebumps all over.
“What now?” he says quietly, as if he expects you to let him slip through your fingers.
“Now, you can call me your girlfriend,” you chuckle slightly, knowing he doesn’t how to go about the new relationship, “and I’ll call you my boyfriend.” Vernon giggles at your corniness, loving how you can ease up his nerves so quickly.
“Okay, girlfriend. What do you want to do for our first date?” he asks after leaving a kiss on the top of your head.
You think for a few seconds, still playing with his fingers as he rests his chin on your head, before you sit up quickly, turning around to face him.
“I know, I know!” you say loudly, almost jumping up and down from excitement.
“Okay, babe,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “care to share a thought?”
“Let’s have watch Everything Everywhere All at Once as a first date!” you tell him, proud of your idea.
“Oh, didn’t I choose my girl well?” he says before grabbing your arm, making you fall down in his embrace again.
No matter what the future holds for you and Vernon, you both know that despite all the places you could be, you both just you want to be with each other. In every world. In every timeline. And in every universe.
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skzdarlings · 1 year
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part iii: bodyguard!felix x reader
masterlist.
PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.
( READ ON AO3. )
Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.
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pairing: lee felix/reader content info: eventual smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (word count; 4800)
warning for this chapter: more explicit violence, physical abuse directed at felix.
-
When his dark roots start to show, Felix attempts to bleach his own hair.  You ask why the aesthetic choice is so important. 
“I just don’t like the dark,” he says with a toothy, too-casual smile. 
You watch from the open bathroom door as he accidentally turns himself into a red-head.   He fingers a vibrant red-orange strand, cocks his head, shrugs, and smiles. 
His hair is a shifting mess of yellow-orange-red over the next two years.  The nightmares start halfway through.
The first one frightens you awake as Felix shoots upright in a sweaty panic.  A startled shriek claws up your throat and comes out raspy, your sleepy eyes darting around in the dark for an intruder only to realize the room is empty. 
Felix slumps against the headboard, wiping his forehead.  The fiery strands of his bangs are sticking to his face and his hands are shaking so uncharacteristically.  Felix only occasionally loses his cool and even then, his retorts are curt and sarcastic rather than emotional.   It is the first time you have ever see him like this, so small and so very human, and all you can do is stare until he gets his breathing under control. 
“Are you okay?” you ask each other at the same time. 
“Me?” you croak.  “You were the one who just—” 
“It was just a dream,” he says, in that clipped tone when his patience runs out.  His breathing is still a little shaky.  He goes to the bathroom then makes his rounds to check the security system, even though it is close to four in the morning.  Your own adrenaline is still dwindling so you are awake when he gets back in bed. 
You don’t know how to comfort someone.  No one has ever comforted you in a substantial way.  Even if they tried, you would probably rebuff it in confusion.   You are certain Felix will do the same thing.  He does not like focussing on himself. 
But he is radiating so much stress and tension that you can feel it burning off him like a heat wave.  He lays stiffly on his back and closes his eyes, pretending to sleep.   You know if you say anything about it, he will ignore you. 
You look at him thoughtfully, then you say in the smallest voice you can, “Felix, I’m scared.” 
His eyes pop open, his brow immediately furrowed in concern.  He looks at you and offers a hand. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, like nothing was amiss with him.   
“Bad dreams too,” you say.  Your nightmares have never caused you to wake so violently, but you do occasionally have them.  You are in the habit of burrowing deep in your blankets and staring at Felix until you fall asleep, calmed by his presence. 
Somehow, some way, you have found comfort in that silent company. 
“Can you hold me, please?” you say. 
You say it because his hand is clammy and cold in yours, despite all the heat of his anxiety.  You say it because his forehead is still damp and his breathing is a little laboured.   You say it because if you offer a hug, he will say he doesn’t need it, but he does. 
Maybe he falls for it, knowing you have a good reason to have nightmares too.  Maybe he sees through your ruse and doesn’t care right now.  But he nods and tugs you closer. 
A year of sharing a bed, not to mention every minute of the day, has made you a little thoughtless in regards to easy proximity, but this embrace is much more deliberate.  You feel very aware of the way he fits around you. His arm loops around your shoulders and you hug his waist, your head fitting perfectly in the crook under his chin. 
You realize you have never hugged anyone like this.  You initiated contact for his sake, but the cradle of his arms and the warmth of his body relaxes your own tension.  It feels like a great exhale, both of you releasing a breath you had been holding for a long time. 
A part of you wants to shove him away.  You think it would be very easy to find his embrace addicting and that is a weakness you cannot afford to have.   You know this, he must know this, but you’re tired, so you fall asleep wrapped around him. 
The next time he wakes with a nightmare, you don’t have to say anything.   He pulls you close and you fall asleep with your head on his chest.  By now you are used to him – behind you in class, beside you in the car, across the kitchen counter, standing at the bathroom sink, laying on the other side of your shared bed – so you let yourself drift, caught in the undertow of his comfortable presence, and you fall asleep like that.   
Again and again. 
His nightmares get worse before they get better.  For a few months, Felix wakes every other night with a startled burst.  He never talks about it.  Sometimes he grounds himself and plasters on a bad smile, but it never fools you.  
He always checks the security system after.  One night he doesn’t return and you imagine the worst, plagued by fears that will seem nonsensical in daylight but pose a very real threat in the darkness.  You turn on every light as you stumble down the corridor, a blanket around your shoulders, too frightened to shout his name as you shuffle along.   
You find him in the gym.  Felix is as strict with his daily regimen as every other protocol, from diet to exercise and back, so the sight of him sweating buckets in the house gym is not unusual.   But it being three in the morning, coupled with the nightmares and your anxiety, makes you erupt with feelings you cannot articulate.
You are relieved he is here.  You hate that you are relieved.  You hate that you were afraid at all.  You hate that you wanted him beside you when you should be relieved in his absence.  When did it all get so backwards?  He still reports to your father.  You should still hate his presence.  You shouldn’t be here, shaking, furious that he abandoned you. 
You throw the blanket on the floor and the motion catches his eye.  He turns, pushing his sweaty red hair off his forehead.  His face contorts in funny ways before he forces himself to smile. 
“Come back to bed,” you say before he can voice a stupid platitude.  “Now.” 
His smile disappears.  He stands there for a moment, breathing hard, just looking at you.  Then he nods. 
He showers and gets back in bed.  You are wide awake, but you stubbornly lay with your back to him.  You say and do nothing when he slides up behind you, crossing the vast space of that big bed to curl himself around you. 
“You’re safe in the house,” he says.  “You don’t have to worry.” 
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” you say before you can stop yourself. 
He is silent for a long moment.  He shifts behind you then exhales, his warm breath fluttering over your neck. 
“You don’t need to worry about me,” he says.  That’s not your job, is the unspoken addition your brain supplies.  Because Felix shouldn’t care about you either.  This is just a job.  You have no real obligation to each other.   
His arm is around your waist.  He breathes out again. 
“The nightmares,” he finally says.  “It’s not… I think it’s just… Before this, everyday, there was a lot going in my life, yeah?  And not… not good things.  But now things are… calm… compared to that so I think it’s just… catching up to me.  Um.  I was going too fast before but now I’m… I’m just here.” 
You know he won’t tell you what those nightmares entail.  If you ask me, I’ll tell you, I will never lie to you, he once said. 
You are too afraid to ask.  It is scary enough, laying in his arms, at once adrift and secure.  Scarier still to turn around and hide your face in his neck.   You do anyway. 
He strokes your back, a feather-soft touch, up and down.   It becomes a familiar pattern, absent-minded.  One night he touches you with that lazy caress while talking about nothing particular.  Neither of you can sleep, but his low voice and gentle touch lulls you into a hazy in-between world.     
You grab his hand and put it up the back of your shirt, not really thinking.  You do not mean to be suggestive and realize too late it could be misconstrued.  You are too embarrassed to apologize, laying there with a warm face pressed against his chest, his hand on your back.  He stops talking and his hand freezes, fingers splayed on your bare spine. 
You have never spoken aloud about how this kind of hugging is too intimate, even if it is innocent, considering what you are supposed to be to each other. 
After a moment, he continues, his touch still gentle.  You almost forget he is not a gentle boy, that he wouldn’t be here if he was.  You fall asleep soon after.   
-
You see your father less these days, no longer in trouble with the same frequency.  It makes you understand Felix, the way he spoke about nightmares catching up to him.   Over the years, your wounds have seldom had time to heal before they re-opened, both literally and emotionally.  Now you have time to scab.  
Those poorly stitched wounds start to fester. 
One night, you and Felix have an argument.  It is a petty, inconsequential quarrel in the greater scheme of things, and it ends with him rolling his eyes. 
Irritation is an itch under your skin, worsened by your ongoing state of aggravation.  When he goes to the gym for his work-out, trusting you to keep your own routine, you simply walk out the front door.  You know he will track you down but it’s the principle of the thing. 
Your act of petty retribution spirals out of control when your father gets home at the same time you are trying to leave.  One of his men literally snatches you in the driveway.  Your adrenaline was already running high from the argument, so you are a thrashing bundle of limbs as they carry you into the house. 
Your father is frighteningly quiet on the walk to his home office.  All at once you recognize this countenance.  It has nothing to do with you, but his business.  Something went wrong today, however menial or substantial, and his rage is an icy current.  You slipped and tumbled headfirst into the flood. 
You stop fighting.  You try to muster the same icy resolve as he seats himself on the couch in the office. 
In a way, you are almost relieved.  It has been so long since you last stood here, but you knew it would eventually happen.  Now it isn’t hanging over you.  Now your wounds aren’t festering.  Now you can rip the messy scab right off and finally just bleed. 
Your father pats the seat beside him on the couch.  You have only just sat when he says to his own guard, “Find me Felix.” 
Felix is waiting right outside the door like the dutiful little soldier he is.  He is in his work-out clothes, baggy basketball shorts and a t-shirt, running shoes, his hair messy from exertion.  There is a flush to his complexion and it makes him look his age, sixteen and bright-eyed.  He is a stark contrast to your father’s guard, a grown man with a hardened face as stern and full as a pit-bull. 
Felix looks at you, a momentary flicker of eye contact before he half-bows for your father.   Then he straightens, robotic.  He clasps his hands behind his back in the same pose as the adult guard. 
The dramatic pageantry makes you huff.   You know your father will mete out punishment regardless of what Felix has to say.  You do not know what Felix includes his daily reports, only that he has kept you out of trouble, but his cleverness will not save you now.  It never could, you remind yourself.  The hugs, the intimacy, the careful threads of friendship unspooling strand by strand, day by day – it was never going to save you. 
“My daughter is headstrong to a fault, isn’t she?” your father says.
Felix glances at you then averts his gaze entirely.   He nods sharply, just once.   “Sir,” he says, an acknowledgement.
“Mm.”  Your father sits back in his seat, his casual posture denoting apathy.  He is staring into space, rubbing his chin.  You realize he has not spoken to you directly when he says, “You know what happens now, don’t you?”  It seems like it should finally be directed at you, but his gaze is still on Felix.   
Felix says nothing, though his brow is furrowed with some consternation.  You stay quiet.  Felix has seen your father punish you more than once now, and you cannot find it in yourself to feel embarrassed about it.  Maybe Felix needs a reminder too.  Or maybe he has known all along there was no real substance to your connection, that you would always end up here and he would always betray you with his professional stoicism.   
“Sir,” Felix says again, as expected. 
You roll your eyes and look away from them all.  You hear the tell-tale clink of a belt.  A frisson is already scratching down your spine, a phantom laceration of its own.  
You have this script memorized, having played out this scene time and again.  Your father’s guard will hand him a belt, the room will be emptied so you are alone with your father, and he will remove the disobedience and weakness from your body – and the frustration and weakness from his – one stroke at a time.  You will leave, contrite and penitent in the freshness of pain and humiliation.  It will fade with your scars.  You will be back here again. 
Your father grabs your face and jerks it back to him.  As if reading your thoughts, he says, “It never sticks with you, does it?  Not one single lesson.”  He lets go with a sharp snap, your chin smarting.  You refrain from touching it.  “Felix brought this to my attention on his report.  You know, you could learn a lesson on reflection from him.” 
You roll your eyes and cross your arms.  You feel sick in an unusual way, more affected than you want to be.  Your father does not know or care if you have ever sought Felix for comfort, so he does not know or care if it hurts for Felix to betray you.  Felix is doing his job and playing his part.  Your father is playing his.  He will make sure you learn to play yours. 
And then your father says, “I agreed with his assertion.  Punishing you like a child does nothing to teach you true consequences.   Being my daughter puts you in a certain position in this world.   Thanks to the work I have done, your place will always be above subordinate persons.  When you make a mistake, when you step out of line, there will be consequences, and those consequences will not only affect you, but all those other people too.”   He waves a hand and the motion draws your eye.   “Felix,” he says. 
The other guard approaches at your father’s gesture.  The belt is folded over in his hand.  Felix glances at it, his expression inscrutable, as if a shadow has fallen over his brow.   He does not look at you again, even when your attention focusses on him. 
Your stomach turns over then seems to drop right out of you, a sharp plummet in your gut when Felix removes his shirt with a swift tug.  His motions are choppy and automatic, his face set.  He faces the large desk and puts his hands on it, his back to the guard.   
“What is this?” you say, looking at your father and his impassive countenance.  “What are you doing?  What is—”
You flinch at the crack of the belt, a full body shudder as if you were struck.  But the hit was not for you.  You whip around to look at Felix, his mouth pressed tightly shut and his gaze on the wall ahead.  When he is struck again, his instinctive recoil is smaller than yours, merely an eye twitch and hard exhale through his nose. 
You start to stand but your father yanks you down again. 
“Consequences,” your father says. 
The blood freezes in your veins.  Sardonic, you think about how moments ago you were wishing for that icy reserve.   Now it locks you in places like a cold shackle.  You watch with a bemused sort of detachment, like this can’t really be happening, and only when Felix’s arm shakes and his elbow caves, doubling him over the desk, do you snap out of it.  The ice melts and water runs, your eyes filling with tears as your voice claws its way up your throat, fighting, fighting, fighting until you rasp, “Enough.  Stop it.  Stop it!” 
You have yelled at your father many times, but this scream is so loud that it reverberates in the large room.  A painting shakes.  The guard actually stops. 
Felix lifts his head and looks at you.  His expression is pinched with fury, a barrier guarding the escape of any other emotion. 
You know your own face is open with all that emotion.  Felix has told you before that he can read you like a book, but right now anyone could.  Your masks crack and you look at him then your father with terror. 
“I’m sorry,” you say.  “Lesson learned, I—”  
Your father waves a hand.  A frantic, “No!” has scarcely your left mouth before the guard hits Felix with a ferocity never once directed at you.  You throw a hand over your mouth, horrified as Felix loses composure, face screwed up with pain as he collapses on the desk.  A bit of skin is torn right off his back and you look away, sick, before everything goes quiet. 
The guard steps back.  Felix is breathing loudly.  Your hand is shaking when your father pries it off your mouth. 
“Thank you, Felix,” your father says.  “I’ll send someone to administer first aid.”  Like this is a casual workplace injury.  Like he didn’t just—because of you—and—
You can’t look at Felix.  You stare at the ground, still shaking, your breathing as ragged as his.
“That’s all right,” Felix says in a remarkably steady voice.  He clears his throat.  “I can take care of myself.” 
Whatever happens next is a blur.   The room empties and your father administers a lecture, looking very self-satisfied.  When other things transpire out of his control, it is clearly reassuring to exert power where he can.  He just as clearly believes he has finally got the permanent best of you.   He might not be wrong. 
You walk in a hazy shuffle, out the door, up the stairs.  Near the top step, your pace quickens.   You find yourself crashing through the bedroom doorway, only snapping out of your stunned trance when you see Felix.  He is laying facedown on the bed, his bare and bleeding back a red canvas of pain. 
“Sorry,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I’ll get up.  Just… give me a sec—”
You shove the door closed and approach the bed, your hands hovering with no where to go.  You stare at his bare backside, the angry red lines and the long stripe where he is bleeding.  You reach, your fingers shaking, then you withdraw.   
“I know, I know, I’m crazy,” he says dryly.  “In my defense, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“That,” you say.  “What was—”
Your voice cracks and disappears.  You cannot find it again.  Felix finally turns his head, somehow looking more composed than you despite the pain he must be in.  Surprise is his most prominent emotion, deepening to confusion as he stares at you in your state.  Then he exhales and closes his eyes, finally scrunching his face in pain. 
“I didn’t think…” he says.  He takes another deep breath.  “I told your father I would… volunteer… for this…  But that’s because I… I thought you didn’t…”
Your eyes meet.  You stare at each other with equal intensity, your stare still rife with terror and his wet with grief. 
“They would have stopped sooner,” Felix says, his voice low, barely above a whisper.  “If they thought you didn’t care, it would have stopped sooner.  I thought it would—I thought you didn’t—”
“Be quiet,” you finally say.  You wipe the tears when they fall, then shake your head like you are scolding yourself.   Your voice is shaky when you say, “Just don’t speak.” 
I thought you didn’t care about me, was undoubtedly what he meant to say.   He thought he could volunteer to take a beating for you and that you would be so stone-faced and indifferent, maybe even happy to see him suffering, that your father would not waste time with a prolonged punishment. 
But you did care.  Your father saw and your father acted accordingly. 
I’m sorry, does not suffice as a reply.  Sorry for running just to win an argument?  Sorry for sitting there and watching them hit you? 
Sorry I care about you. I wish I just hated you.
“I can take care of it,” Felix says when you fetch a first aid kit and sit on the bed.  He says that, but he hisses when he tries to move.  His arms shake with uncharacteristic weakness when he pushes himself up. 
“Lay down, stupid,” you say, laying a clean cloth over the wound to soak up the blood.    
He laughs.  It is a little breathless, but it is that familiar deep rumble of mostly happy sound.  Your face feels hot and your stomach rolls over with a topsy-turvy mess of feelings. 
You quietly clean and apply medicinal ointment to his back.  He lays with his chin on the back of his hands, staring for a while at the headboard, then looking at you.  You can feel him looking, his gaze like a touch as it wanders your face, but you do not look away from your task. 
When you are done, the injury still looks vicious.  You know it will get worse before it gets better, the marked skin already darkening, but it will heal.  You tenderly brush your fingertips over a line, gathering excess salve.  
“I don’t remember what we were fighting about,” he says, “but I think won now, yeah?” 
You suck in a breath to stop yourself from laughing.  He laughs, still deep but more boisterous.  It ends with a hiss of pain as he moves too much.  You shake your head, biting your lip. 
“Serves you right,” you say.  “None of this is funny.”
“Uh-huuuh.”  The weirdo is still chuckling. 
“Well, don’t worry about the future.”  You busy yourself with packing up the first aid kit so you don’t have to meet his eye when you say, “It won’t happen again.  I’ll hate you and I’ll make sure he knows it.” 
“Mm.”  He watches you fold the cloth, over and over, his freckled cheek squished into the pillow.  “I’d say you should offer to do it yourself, but I’ve seen you on a rampage, kicking a vending machine for not giving you your change, sooo… I think I’ll take my chances with them.” 
“Keep up the jokes and I really will hit you,” you say with no animosity. 
“Right,” Felix says, smirking into the bedsheets, “because you hate me.” 
“Yes,” you say, still not meeting his eye.  It convinces no one when you say, “Because I hate you.” 
That night Felix is restless, forced to lay on his front.  He shifts and twitches and groans, tugging a pillow of his head to whine into the sheets.   He can’t get comfortable. 
You open your arms to him.  You think he might reject you.  Though Felix is trusted with his work and they never intrude, there are other people in the house tonight, so it is a little reckless. 
Usually, he would be careful, but you think he might feel a certain resignation.  A dam has been broken, a wall torn down.   The worst has happened and you’re still here. 
He looks at you thoughtfully then slides across the bed.  You realize too late his shirtlessness adds another level of intimacy.  Your face and neck and chest all feel hot, plus there is a sensation like butterfly wings fluttering in your belly, but you swallow it down and stare at the ceiling as Felix carefully lays against you.   He also seems to realize the awkwardness, the tips of his ears red hot with embarrassment when he puts his head on your chest.  
You both lay there, stiff as boards, awkward and young and ridiculous. 
Eventually, your nervousness bubbles out of you in the form of a strangled laugh.  Your emotions are swinging on a rapid-moving pendulum and all that terror and sadness turns to a random euphoric burst of laughter.  Felix lifts his head and looks at you, laughing just because you are.  It goes on for a while, Felix the first to recover. 
“Shh,” he finally says, stifling himself.  He props himself up on an elbow, leaning over you, and puts a hand over your lips to keep you quiet.  
Your heart stutters, stops, starts, and you stare at him through the blue dark of your room.   His mouth opens but he doesn’t say anything.  He slowly slides his hand off your mouth.  Neither of you move, the newfound silence covering you like a fuzzy blanket.  
He flicks his head to toss his shaggy bangs out of his eyes.  The red is vibrant even in the dark.  You are touching his hair before you can think about why you shouldn’t touch him at all. 
He looks his age again, wide-eyed and nervous.  Apparently bracing himself for a beating is not a daunting task, but you touching his hair is petrifying. 
You twist a dyed lock around your finger.  After some consideration, you ask, “Do you like the red?”
“Uhh… I preferred the, uh, the blonde, but, uh, yeah, I guess…”  His voice sounds a little lower.  He clears his throat.  “I just can’t figure it out.  Ha.” 
“Hmm,” you say, letting him go.  “Maybe we can figure it out together.”  That sounds like a heavy promise, implicitly about more than just a hair colour.  It registers with him, his brow furrowing.  You quickly deflect by adding, “Because we’re gonna be seniors soon.  You can’t spend your last year of high school with bad hair.” 
He snorts and rolls his eyes, smiling. 
“Not like I’m a real student,” he says, “but suuure.  Sounds good.  Thanks.”  
You look down the length of his back.  You think about how he described his life now as calm, compared to whatever came before.   This is the lesser of two evils, this shoving and hitting and dehumanizing.   The pendulum swings back and your throat clogs with a sob.  You manage to swallow it down but you have to look away from him.  Your hand blindly settles in his hair, absently feathering strands between your fingers. 
“You don’t need to say it like that,” you say.  “You’re still a real person.” 
You look at him only because he does not answer.  He is staring at you, lips drawn into a line and brows knit together. 
“Some people might disagree,” he says in a very low, soft voice, almost conspiratorially. 
Your heart skips a beat.  You roll your eyes.  “Like my father?” you ask. “Well.  I never agree with him on anything.  You know that.” 
“Yeah,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips again.  “Uh, yeah, I definitely know that.”  A joking tone returns and he pulls a sarcastic face, like that much should be obvious. 
“Be quiet,” you say, lightly teasing.  “Just go to sleep.” 
Your hand is still in his hair so you yank him down.  You stifle a laugh when he hits your chest with a squeak.  He clears his throat, forcing a stern expression as he turns his face so he is not completely planted in your cleavage. 
“Good night, Felix,” you say. 
“All right,” he says.  “Good night.” 
You fall asleep first.  He is sensible enough to slide back to his side of the bed before properly sleeping.  The motion stirs you and you instinctively reach for him.  Your hand falls open between you.  He takes it and holds it, palm to palm, and you fall asleep once more. 
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