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#but what if she's sending him away because he's just too much? or not enough? and what if she doesn't want him anymore?
darkwolf989 · 2 days
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AWWW I just read your Val & Vox with a little girl and its so so cute!! Can I maybe request a one shot of Vox as a girl's dad too? Like his daughter in life getting to hell in her late teens, and now Vox has to deal with the change in taking care of her because he only knew how to take care of her as a child before he died. Thank youu 💖💙
This request. Could have gone in SO MANY FUN WAYS! Let me know your feedback and thoughts! Enjoy- I can do a part two if you like it!!
I downed my tenth cup of coffee and adjusted myself in my chair. My head pounded and I hoped that just a few more drops of the life-giving liquid would keep the exhaustion at bay long enough to get this project done. I hit the call button on the intercom in my office.
“Charles! Another cup!” 
Ten seconds. Enough of a break. I turned my attention back to the document on my computer. 
My assistant brought in another cup right away. “Ms. Reader, don’t you think you’re getting carried away?” 
“I said coffee. Not lip. Order me a raspberry mocha from the shop down the street and have it here in exactly twenty minutes.” I responded as I continued to type. 
He bowed his head. “As you wish. Mr. Vox asked for an update. What should I tell him?”
I paused for a half a moment. “Tell my Dad it will be ready well before the deadline.” 
I looked back down and continued to type. It had been a month since I first found myself in hell. It took my father no time to locate me- though his reaction wasn’t what I expected. 
“Babygirl, you grew up.” He said as I sat across from him in his perfectly manicured office. A pained expression crossed his face. “Tell me, what did you do in your human life to land you in my office? And so young too…how old are you now? Eighteen?”
Sixteen. I thought to myself. An idea began to form. He didn’t remember my age- that could work to my advantage. After all, acting older than I was was a skill I acquired, and I was more than used to my own independence. I crossed my arms. “Eighteen. I’ve been running your company since I was thirteen.” That much, at least, was true. “What do you think got me here? Your business skills weren’t the only thing I inherited.” 
He sighed. “The same thing that brought me here. Fine.” 
He reached out to touch my face and I jerked away. He was a stranger to me, gone from my life when I was six. My mother tried to keep his company on Earth going, but she didn’t have the business skills I did. And when she passed the company fell to my hands with contingencies. Overnight I became the voice- the face of the company, running between me and the board. 
When I passed she was the first person I looked for. Not that I thought I’d find her- and I was right. She went up, and we went down. My dad and his company found me shortly after, and I wasn’t in the slightest surprised to find he was as much of a go getter down here as he was when he was alive, the sole owner of VoxTech. 
But as I sat in his office across from him, memories of him in life blossomed. Soft words. Snuggles. Hugs and kisses. All the comfort that was ripped away the day he left us, left me. 
“You’re going to need a place,” he continued. “A place to stay. A job. I can give you all those things. Keep you safe.”
My other option was the streets of hell. An unappealing choice at best. And so, I accepted the role he offered and the responsibilities that came with it. I was determined to show my father that I was a hardworking girlboss, worthy of his faith in me. 
“And send,” I said aloud as I finished the final drop of my mocha. My head felt fuzzy and my chest definitely buzzed but it was worth it. I opened my inbox. The time on the clock read ten- I had finished with several days to spare. Might as well keep going. 
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew I startled awake to the feeling of a hand on my wrist. 
“Hey, hey baby girl. Take a deep breath, it’s just me.” My dad said. 
I shifted and realized he had covered me with his jacket. I tried to sit up and realized I wasn’t in my office anymore. Instead, I laid on the couch in his.
Fuck. The project. Did I submit it?
“Wh-what time is it? I’m late, I still need…” I sat up.
Vox pushed me back down. “No. You need to lay down. You’re exhausted and your pulse is really high. The doctor is on his way up to look at you. When was the last time you went home to bed?” 
Three days ago. But I didn’t want to tell him that, so instead I remained silent. Vox let out a soft chuckle. 
“You haven’t changed all that much, have you?” He asked as he smoothed back my hair. “You used to do this when you were little too. Play so hard you fell asleep where you were. I used to pick you up and put you to bed, and you were so exhausted you didn’t wake up.”
“Is that how I got here?” I asked.Throbbing pain pulsed through my skull and I closed my eyes as I pressed my head into my hands. “Ugh, my head hurts.” 
“Yeah. Your assistant found you passed out on your desk around midnight. He called me right away.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and hit a button. “When was the last time you drank water? Or ate anything?” Concern oozed from his voice. “I found like twenty empty coffee cups in your office.”
“I had coffee. I’m good. Lived on it back home. Live on it here.” I winced as the cuff grew tighter on my arm. “I’m fine, Dad.” 
“You’re not. And I want numbers while we wait for the doctor to get here. What were you thinking?” He placed the back of his hand on my head. “Com’on you’re smarter than that.” 
I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m not a child, Dad.”
“Maybe not anymore, but you’ll always be my baby,” he replied calmly. “So will you relax and let me be your dad for a moment?” 
I relented and let him fuss until the doctor came in. Vox stood with his arms crossed until I got the all clear. 
“Just cut down on the caffeine, plenary of fluids, and get a few days of rest, and you’ll be fine in no time,” the doctor said finally. He scribbled a few things on his notepad. “Quick question. How old are you, exactly? Because your father says eighteen, but my records show sixteen.” 
I saw Vox turn to look at me, a mix of fury and annoyance on his face. Shit. He grabbed the clipboard from the doctor and scanned the sheet. Realization flooded his face. 
“Rest and fluids, that I can do,” I said loudly as I pulled myself up to standing. “Dad, you don’t mind if I cut out a few minutes early, do you?”
Vox swallowed and looked at me. “You told me you were twenty.”
“Actually, I said eighteen.” I replied, “not that it matters.”
“Oh, it does matter.” He said, his voice laced with anger. “You lied to me.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been on my own running your company for three years. But anyway, I’m going home, Dad. See you tomorrow.” I went to walk out the door and he caught my wrist. 
“Oh fuck no. You think I’m going to let my teenage daughter waltz out of here after all this? No. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion. And consider yourself suspended from work for the time being. 
I felt myself freeze. “You can’t fire me, this is my job!” 
He laughed darkly. “Oh honey! You work for me. Consider it your punishment for lying to your Boss.” He stood up. “Let’s go. You’re not staying in that apartment by yourself. You’re sixteen.” He shook his head. “You’re sixteen.”
“Then where am I staying?” I asked, crossing my arms as unease flooded through me.
“Home. With me. Where you belong.” He said firmly as he pressed his hand to my shoulder. 
I felt myself deflate but again, seeing no other option, I let him guide me to the elevator. Three floors later, the elevator opened and I followed him into a spacious living room.
“I’ll have your things taken from your apartment and moved into the fourth bedroom,” he said as he gave me the tour. 
“I’ve been on my own for a month in hell, and even longer before then,” I protested. “I know how to live by myself.”
He stopped walking and turned his head. “Then I guess it’s about time you learned how to be a teenager then, hm?” 
Anger flooded through me. “That isn’t fair! Dad!”
Vox gave me a grin. “There. That’s a great start! But seriously, you’re grounded.”
“You can’t ground me!”
He practically puffed himself up. “You’re sixteen and I’m your dad. Of course I can. And you are.” He pushed open the door “and this is your room. You can redecorate as you please.”
I stepped inside. “Wait, this is my room?”
Easily twice the size of my little apartment, the bed alone took up the center of the room. It’s current color scheme was neutral, with huge windows overlooking the city. 
“Yeah, like I said, order whatever you want and I’ll have Velvette…”
“Aunt Velvette?!” I asked, excitement washing over me. 
“You remember her?” He asked in a surprised voice. “Do you remember Valentino too?” He leaned against the doorframe and waited for my reaction. 
I turned around. “Uncle Val? The badass mafia mobster that used to come over and toss me in the pool when you guys got tired of doing it?”
“Hey, who told you he was a mobster?” Vox asked as I continued to look around the room.
“Mom.” 
He sighed. “Of course she did. Well, she wasn’t wrong. But yes. One and the same. We met up in hell and we-“
“Continue to rule together as much as you did in life. Got it,” I replied. “Did you not tell them I was here? In the building this whole time?”
Vox shrugged. “I was hoping to get to know you a bit more before I let them know you were here. But I wanted to give you some time to settle in first. After all, I thought you were an adult. Time…time passes differently down here.”
“Reader? Is that really you?” I heard an excited voice yell from the hallway.
My head turned. I knew that voice. Velvette pushed past Vox and she and Valentino practically ran over to me. 
“Aww, my little Princessa! All grown up I see!” My Uncle Val lifted me up and spun me around like I was five. He kissed me on the forehead and set me down. 
Shock flooded through my body as I looked at them both in their demon forms. Seeing my Dad with a TV shaped head was one thing- it made sense with what he did. Aunt Velvette still looked the same but Uncle Val? He looked…scarily different. Purple skin, sharp teeth. The only thing that stayed the same was his signature heart shaped glasses. 
“Valentino, chill. You spooked her.” Velvette scolded. “It’s been what, how many years?”
“Wait- where is Uncle Al?” I asked 
My father glitched. “We don’t talk about him. Not after what he did to me.” 
“What did he do?” I asked in confusion. 
“Ah, no. Princessa. Baby. You’ll get your daddy all worked up. We don’t want or need that,” Valentino scolded.
I crossed my arms and took a defensive stance. “I’m not five. And I’ve been an adult for a long, long time.” 
“Yeah, why don’t you tell us all about that? Over dinner.” Vox said, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “After all, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
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Text
Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)
Part 3 - Vampire
Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst
Elain and Azriel have a moment while Tamlin and Felina reconnect. Rhys winnows his sister away following a panic attack, leaving Azriel and Tamlin to face each other one-on-one. After poor decisions are made, Azriel must answer to his High Lady. If only Feyre realized how much danger she’s in.
Part 2 Series Masterlist
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Warnings: blood, violence, self-loathing, panic attack resulting from past heartbreak and trauma, language
To Azriel, it felt like an eternity. An eternity of standing there watching his mate in the arms of a male he despised, reviled. And Felina, she looked like she was home. Like she’d just found solace after centuries of wandering alone and weary.
And fuck, it made him a bastard but it gutted him. He wanted, no, needed, to scoop her right out of his arms and carry her to a place where it was just him and her. They had so much to address. All they’d done was fed and fucked after Azriel had been turned, he thought there’d be plenty of time for talking once the bloodlust and mating frenzy settled but then everything had gone to shit.
He was so happy to have this female he adored back in his life - but to him, she was so new and he didn’t know how to feel. Because when he looked into those eyes, he still saw that swirling darkness. Not the dancing of stars he’d once adored when they were young but, the darkness of being trapped, locked away, tormented by those who should have been trustworthy. A darkness he could recognize all too well.
Where had she been all those years?
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to find the brown doe-eyes of Elain, looking to him with concern - guilt.
“Can we talk for a moment?” She whispered.
Azriel felt the muscles of his jaw tighten. The thought of leaving Felina with Tamlin made him sick.
“Not now, Elain.” He grit a bit more harshly than intended. Her eyes cast downward and he saw the hurt flicker across her soft features.
Gods, looking at her now, he didn’t know how he’d ever thought the cauldron made a mistake. She was lovely, a kind soul, she was good.
But his mate - she was wild, curious about the world around her, stars eternal. At least, she had been in her youth. Somehow being turned only amplified her into a force that had yet to be reckoned with, dark and mysterious. She was fucking everything.
She started to turn away and the guilt struck Azriel. His words of “this was a mistake.” on that cursed solstice weighing heavily between them. He could give her a moment of his time.
So, he followed her. “Elain, wait.” He spoke softly, his long strides effortlessly catching him up to her. “Let’s speak over there.” Nodding his head toward a bistro set that was far enough away from the foyer for privacy, but close enough that he could monitor.
The Shadowsinger pivoted away from the situation just long enough that he missed Felina turning her head to search for him, just to see him walking away with the delicate female.
Elain seated herself at the small table, rays of sunlight shone through the window, casting a golden hue upon her hair, rendering the middle Archeron sister nearly blonde. Her leg bounced with anxiety as Azriel took a seat across from her, sending up his shadows to block the rays.
“I-“ Elain started. “Azriel, I am so sorry. This is my fault. Lucien and I have been writing, we’ve been trying to get to know eachother. I mentioned to him about the reunion between Rhys and his sister.”
Azriel pressed his lips into a line, shuffling through his thoughts and treading carefully. “It’s fine-“
“No,” she interjected. “It’s not. I only told him because I’d had a vision of blood, shadow, and night. It alarmed me but… nobody listens to me, Azriel. They don’t understand my visions, I- I don’t either. But Lucien, he listens. He tries to help. So when she showed up, and when we realized that she- and you- were turned, I realized what the vision meant. So I told him.”
Her glassy eyes looked to him. “I had no idea about Tamlin. And I think, I think I understand why Lucien told him. He knew, about the history between she and Tamlin. But I had never mentioned all that you were going through, that she’s your mate and that there are still so many unanswered questions. I’m SO sorry.”
Azriel shook his head. How could she have known? Azriel was the gods-damned spymaster, he’d always cared for Felina and made a point to look after her, and he’d never known. He had seen a note from “Peter” once but just assumed it was some crush she’d made in Velaris. How had he never thought to look further into who she was seeing?
He knew the answer though. He always had. It was the same reason he’d never looked into Lucien’s whereabouts, or Graysen’s.
But he wasn’t ready to face that right now. The jealousy he’d harbored in those days and the well of emotions and complicated histories that it would bring to light.
So, he took a steadying breath and softened his gaze as he met her wide eyes. “Elain, it’s okay. None of us knew about their history and,” he reached a scarred hand out to brush her arm, a friendly act of reassurance. “I’m happy that Lucien is helping. Your visions are worth listening to, your voice is worth hearing.”
Elain gave a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, he could see the guilt there. And while Azriel was certainly not thrilled to see Tamlin there, he harbored no ill-will toward Elain, or Lucien for that matter, for Tamlin’s appearance today.
A sharp cry pierced the air as Felina pulled herself away from Tamlin. And Azriel almost, almost, felt a twinge of empathy for the male at the look of pain crossing his features.
“No, no, no.” Felina whimpered covering her ears, tears falling from her eyes. Azriel was on his feet in a moment, winnowing to her side as her breathing increased, pulling her in close - Felina opened her eyes, glistening with tears, and Azriel felt an intense jolt of heartbreak tug on their bond.
“I remember.” She choked out, pushing away from his embrace. She looked so small in that moment, so broken. Azriel placed a palm to his chest, as if physically feeling the pain barreling down the bond. “What is it, Felina?”
“I- I don’t. I’m sorry. I can’t-” she cried, her voice barely audible. But her next word came out clear, “Rhys?” Her brother looked to her with such sympathy, such tenderness. “What is it little star?” He asked, stepping to her side, shrouding the two of them in darkness. Azriel’s shadows whispered in his ear.
“Sad.”
“Hurt.”
“Mate.”
He couldn’t make out what was said but one moment Rhys had her in his arms, and the next, they were gone.
Rage filled Azriel as his mate vanished. Fixing his icy gaze toward a downcast Tamlin, his shadows whirled, promising violence. Elain hurried out the front door leaving just the two males. And Azriel was going to kill him.
In an instant, Azriel tackled Tamlin, fists brutally making impact with his face. “What did you do to her!?” He roared, pain filling him. Tamlin didn’t make any effort to hit Azriel, only turning his head and freeing an arm from beneath the Shadowsinger’s weight to block what he could.
Azriel was going to make this brutal, ensure Tamlin felt every ounce of pain the past centuries had brought upon them. “Nothing!” Tamlin choked out, blood filling his mouth. “I did nothing. I swear.”
“No.” Azriel spoke, landing a fist to Tamlin’s cheek. “Nothing is what you did while Feyre was fighting for her life, for Prythian, under the mountain. Nothing is what you did when your family tried to kill my mate- and her mother.” Another blow landed, this time cracking Tamlin’s nose, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. “Nothing,” Azriel spat. “Is what you are.”
It was then that Tamlin went still. All attempts of defense dropping as the words echoed through the room.
“Fight! You fucking coward!” Azriel shoved at his chest.
Tamlin turned his head to the side, vacantly staring off to the other end of the room, eyes going vacant as the weight of Azriel’s words settled within him. “You’re right.” Tamlin whispered. “I am nothing.”
The sound of Tamlin’s ragged breaths and Azriel’s heavy gasps filled the space. More blood trickled down the Spring Court High Lord’s face. “I am nothing and she is everything.” Tears lined the males eyes. “But I didn’t say anything, today. She she looked to see you walking away, she saw you with the Archeron sister, watched you caress her arm, and then she crumpled.”
Azriel gaped, his heart shattering. He was the one who’d caused her pain? Azriel let out an enraged roar, so low and loud that it rattled the windows. At that moment, the front door flew open. Feyre and Lucien entered the foyer, taking in the sight before them. The blood running down Tamlin’s face, dripping onto his tunic and splattering on the floor; Azriel’s disheveled state, his shadows snaking around him angrily, the blood coating his knuckles.
“What did you do?” Lucien ground out, stepping in Azriel’s direction.
Elain stood outside the doorway holding Nyx, excusing herself to remove the winged babe from the confrontation.
“What did HE do?” Feyre scoffed. “He’s not the one intruding in our home.”
Lucien only gave her a side-eye, swallowing whatever smart retort he had at the ready. “What. Happened?” the youngest Vanserra’s russet eye bounced back and forth between the two, the golden one whirring with each motion.
Tamlin and Azriel both stood there, like petulant children before a reprimanding father, neither speaking.
Finally, Tamlin broke the silence. “It was my fault. I’m leaving.” Azriel didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as he looked to Lucien and Feyre and left.
“Tam, wait.” Lucien called out, but he’d already winnowed away.
Feyre looked to Azriel with a frown. “Given the state of Tamlin’s nose and your fist, something tells me this wasn’t just Tamlin’s fault. What the hell happened, Azriel?”
“I’d like to know the same.” Lucien chided, tanned arms crossing over his chest. Azriel’s hazel eyes narrowed in his direction. “You don’t need to know anything else, considering you can’t keep your mouth shut, Vanserra. You’re the reason he showed up in the first place.”
Lucien gaped, a rare show of the clever fox being caught off guard, before muttering “Shit.” He looked to the blood splattered floor, shaking his head. “I need to go find him.”
With that, he was out the door. Azriel let out a sigh, looking toward the stairwell as if Felina were up in their shared chamber and not wherever the hell Rhys had winnowed her to.
Feyre, ever the High Lady, held her head high, waiting for her spymaster to explain himself. “I need to get some air.” He muttered, making to move past her. “Oh no, you don’t.” Her hand grasped his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. “We are not finished here.”
And damn it, if she wasn’t the one person who could get him to listen right now. Rhys was one thing. Azriel could toe the line with him, test boundaries, display that icy rage that so often flowed through his veins.
But Feyre, he had no doubt that she could handle his rage as well but she was different. She had given everything for Prythian, even when she had absolutely no reason to give a damn about the fae. She was a good and just ruler. Not that Rhys wasn’t, but five-hundred years of brotherhood would jade anyone’s view, if only slightly.
So, Azriel stayed, hazel gaze fixing upon his High Lady, awaiting her next command. “Can we talk?” She asked gently, moving her tattooed hand down his arm. Azriel only nodded as she led him to the sitting room.
Situating herself on a tufted arm chair, Feyre smoothed her paint splattered dress, patiently waiting for Azriel to take his seat in the adjacent loveseat. “Elain came to find me at the studio, asking to reach out to get Lucien. She said Tamlin had shown up unannounced at the River House, that you two had talked, and something happened with Tamlin that upset Felina. Is that correct?”
Azriel nodded. It was mostly true. Was there really need to go into detail?
Feyre’s brow furrowed. “Look at me, Azriel.”
He flicked his hazel eyes to her briefly before looking back toward the entry. “You’re not telling me everything. It doesn’t take my daemati ability to see that, Az.” Her words held firm but her gaze gentle.
Emotions warred within Azriel. He didn’t want to talk to Feyre about this, about the way his heart clenches at the thought of losing Y/N - Felina - the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing now where it originated from. At the same time, it was a support for her, a name that she held onto when nothing else made sense. He was a selfish bastard for resenting it.
However, he refused to feel selfish for the anger he felt toward Tamlin. He drew the line there. If she needed a friend, Azriel would be the first to offer that. If she needed Tamlin’s friendship, if somehow his presence were to aid in her healing? He’d swallow his pride and live with it.
He could support her, and her healing, while internally resenting Tamlin. For now it was the best he could do.
He knew he couldn’t lose control like he did this afternoon again. He’d likely have to make amends for that.
Consumed by thoughts he dropped his face into both hands, rubbing his eyes before leaning his head onto the backrest, arms crossing over his chest. Letting out a sigh of exhaustion. He couldn’t remember the last time he rested properly. Thank the gods for the unique design of this seat with indentions to accommodate Illyrian wings. The perfect spot for brooding comfortably.
A slight discomfort, however, began to set the Shadowsinger on edge. His body growing rigid.
“Hello?” Feyre’s voice invaded his mind, reminding him he still wasn’t alone.
“You’re rather persistent, High Lady.” he replied through the mental channel, that ache growing a bit stronger.
A soft laugh echoed. “Yes. Now tell me what happened.”
Azriel sent images to her, of Felina’s upset, Rhys winnowing her away, his own embarrassing outburst, the cruel words he’d spoken, the realization that he was the reason for her hurt and not Tamlin.
“That’s a lot to unpack. Speaking to you as High Lady, how you treated Tamlin was unacceptable - but, I know you are aware. From a political perspective, we should issue a formal apology at the very least. As a friend, however, you have been through a lot in a very short period of time and have so much to process. With such unusual circumstances and how new your accepted bond is - I cannot fault you for protecting her. We know so little about Vampyr bonds but I’m certain that also played a role.”
Azriel’s cheeks burned with shame. “Do you know where they went?”
His breathing increased, a metallic tang settling into his nose, seeping to his very bones.
A pause. “I do. She is safe but she needs to be with Rhys right now. Honestly, I think they both need it. He’s been on edge since she arrived.”
Azriel let out a huff, sitting upright and ending the mental connection to speak aloud. “I can understand that.”
Was the air in the house growing warmer or was that the increase in his pulse?
Sympathy flickered in those blue-gray eyes as Feyre reached out, placing a hand on Azriel’s knee. “I can’t imagine what this must feel like, Azriel, and I won’t pretend to, but things will work out in time. Perhaps the Mother knew what she was doing when she put someone with - today’s incident aside - such patience, when that is exactly what Y/N needs. What is it Amren used to tell Cassian about Nesta?” Feyre’s brows drew downward as she tried to remember.
Azriel’s restless state rendering him impatient as she searched for the words, he blurted out Amren’s saying, “Keep reaching out your hand.”
And fuck - he looked at his own hand now remembering the dried blood coating it, the blood that had filled his nostrils, when he rubbed his face.
Hunger. This was hunger. Oh gods-
His sharpened canines flashed as he looked to his High Lady, “Feyre-“
Her pulse fluttered deliciously.
Feyre’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh fuck.” She whispered, standing and stepping back from him. “Hold on, Az. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
And then he lunged.
———————————
Rhys sat in silence as his sister sobbed into his chest. He’d winnowed them directly to the cabin - the one that seemed at this point everyone used to avoid their own mate at some point or another.
Visions of past solstices danced in his mind. How she would sit and watch until her cheeks turned frigid. Cassian would tease her, telling her that any male that wanted to win her heart would have to take them all on in a snowball fight and come out alive. Rhys would chuckle and Az would wrap his scarf around her, or blow on her hands to warm them. He’d always cared for her. Rhys had thought in a brotherly sort of way, he knew for a fact that was how Azriel intended it, but now- he imagined it was the mating bond buried deep down, likely just starting to spark. He didn’t know whether to smile or cringe at that.
He’d become so lost in thought, holding his sister and running fingers through her raven locks that he hadn’t noticed her shutters slow down, her breathing evening out. “It looks different.” She whispered, shocking herself with the statement. “I remember this place. I think. It’s familiar, but not.”
Rhys smiled. “Well, that, my dear sister, would be because Amren and Morrigan went head to head and reduced the place to rubble a century or so ago. I rebuilt it the best that I could but made some changes - the tubs even accommodate Illyrian wings now. And Feyre darling, she added her own touches to the place.”
“Interesting…” she whispered. “I think our father would have keeled over had he seen that.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong. Our father never was the type to appreciate the arts, though he did enjoy your love of it. Not enough to let you paint the walls of any of our homes but- enough to take you to the theater whenever he could, enough to ensure the Rainbow was well-funded and thriving.”
Smiling sadly, he continued, “When I first saw the paintings here, I thought of you. How if you’d have been here, you would have been right there with her, painting along.”
Felina looked to her brother, trying so desperately to remember her old self. Who she’d once been.
“I never forgot you, sister. I’ve carried you in my heart every day, there was not a sunset that I didn’t think about the way your eyes shone with wonder as the stars appeared, about the nights you’d beg me to fly with you….wishing I’d have been there more often, wishing I’d said yes every time you asked.”
“Our past does not define us. What we do with today does.” She whispered, puzzling at her own statement. Rhys whipped his head toward her. “You remember more than you realize.”
She thought on her words. “Azriel. He used to say that, yes?”
Yes. Rhys nodded grimly, remembering the treatment his brother received as a child. “Do you remember what else he would tell you?”
“I don’t think I do.”
Rhys wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her closely.
“It’s the courage to continue that counts.”
Felina’s hands shook and Rhys gave them a squeeze. She whispered to herself “I am Y/N.” Her given name felt less foreign than she’d expected. “I am courageous. I will not be afraid.”
Rhys’ eyes glazed over, his posture going rigid. The grip of his hand squeezing more tightly onto his sister’s cold hand.
Suddenly she was brought into Rhys’ mind, Feyre’s voice frantic.
“It’s Azriel. He needs Felina. NOW.”
——————————————
A/n: If you read this chapter and think “Wow, Felina is being pretty dramatic over Elain” Please hold. There’s more to it that will be unpacked later - she has been through a lot and is still harboring centuries old feelings/emotions that feel recent to her as her memory slowly comes back.
Tags:
General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria
Series tags: @glittervame @julesofvolterra @saltedcoffeescotch @candyjaypoppins @st4r-girl-official @nocasdatsgay @gxdsmonsters
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raphael-angele · 14 hours
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Nico is a Baby, Bianca is Alive (The Separation)
Before the cabins decided they'll take turns watching over Nico while Bianca is away, Percy and Annabeth were the only ones Bianca trusted to look after him.
Bianca: And make sure he eats his vegetables.
Percy: We know, Bianca.
Bianca: If he eats sweets, make sure that he drinks water after.
Percy: *repeats what she's saying* Yeah, yeah. We know. You already told us like 15 times
Bianca: *sigh* Sorry. I never left him for so long.
Percy: He'll be fine with us. We promise. Annabeth will give him a one-on-one teaching, I'll make sure he wont get hurt during training.
Bianca: *narrows her eyes*
Percy: And we'll both see to it that he eats healthy and gets enough sleep.
Bianca: ...Uh huh
Nico, running to them: PERCY! PERCY! C'MON! You promised to play Mythomagic wirh me *drags him off*
Percy: *dragged off* Ok, ok
Annabeth, walking up to Bianca:
Bianca: Hope he wont be too much work.
Annabeth: Eh, he's been a delight so far. He's kinda like a mini Percy
Bianca: Now that kinda worries me
Annabeth: *chuckles*
Bianca: Maybe I shouldn't go. I'll just tell Lady Artemis that I'll go next solstice.
Annabeth: Are you kidding me? Bianca, you get to travel the whole entire world. You shouldn't miss out on that, especially after spending 70 years in that hotel
Bianca: I know. It's just...I'm starting to think that maybe I rushed into the decision.
Annabeth: Hey, you have every right to be join out of interest. And Nico's happy for you. Sure it took some time but he is. Sone time apart will do you two some good.
Bianca: You really think I'm doing the right thing here?
Annabeth: I think you deserve to find out who you really are. And that's not gonna happen if you're always gonna be concerned with the well being of other people over your own.
Thalia, entering: Bianca. Ready to go?
Bianca: *looks at Annabeth*
Annabeth: *smiles*
Bianca: ...Nico!
Nico: *goes over to her then sees Thalia* You have to go now?
Bianca: Yeah.
Nico: *hugs her tightly*
Bianca: *hugs back*
Nico: Is there anything I can do to make you stay?
Bianca: ... *slowly pulls away* Nico. You know that I can't always be by your side, right? I can't always look after you.
Nico: Yeah, but-
Bianca: You need to be a big boy, now. You need to learn how to do things without me.
Nico: B-but, I don't know how to be a big boy.
Bianca: That's why people here will help you. People like Annabeth and Percy will help you.
Nico: But why can't you teach me?
Bianca: ...because I need to grow up, too.
Nico: *hugs her again* You'll come and visit me right?
Bianca: Of course I will. Every chance I get.
Nico: And you'll send me post cards?
Bianca: I'll try to send you one every week to tell you where I am and what I did.
Thalia, putting her hand on her shoulder: It's time to go.
Bianca:
Nico: *lets her go*
Bianca: Tell you what? How 'bout I let the trainers teach you how to shoot an arrow?
Nico, sparkle in his eyes: REALLY?!
Bianca: Yeah, it'll be good on you to know how to fight monsters. And if you guys beat us in Capture the Flag next time, I'll let them teach you how to use a sword.
Nico, sparkles in his eyes: *gaaasssp* Percy! Annie! You heard that? I get to use a sword!
Bianca: *soft smile then looks at Thalia*
Thalia: Let's go.
Bianca:
Nico:
Bianca: *kisses his forehead* Arrivederci, soldatino.
Nico: Arrivederci, amata sorella
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tiredfox64 · 8 hours
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Hi I’m requesting on behalf of my friend ( thier too shy to even send anonymously) a couple of days ago a boy pulled off her Hijab and ran off with. This obviously sacred and upset her do could you do a comfort fic for her? Where this situation happens to Kung Lao, smoke and kuai liang’s s/o? If you don’t feel comfortable writing this that is fine. Thank you!
Show Her Respect!
Prior notes: I acted quickly when I saw the request. I can’t believe there are people out there that still do that kind of stuff. I hope I can make her feel better.
Pairings: Kung Lao, Tomas, Kuai Liang x Hijabi! Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: Hijabs will be pulled but the perpetrators will be beat
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Kung Lao
The sun shined bright on the Fengjian village. Kung Lao found it would be the perfect opportunity to show you around and maybe even show you the flowers that are blooming.
Throughout the day you two ran around the village and said hi to the locals. You even got to say hi to Raiden who was out training. Kung Lao should have been training as well but you know how he is. He thinks he’s already perfect enough. Plus, he wanted to have all his attention on you today.
You got to see many the flowers that bloomed from this season. The azaleas, begonias, magnolias, lilies, and Kung Lao’s favorite, the cherry blossoms. He liked to blow the petals towards you which made you laugh. What a charmer.
Now how else can you end off a perfect day than having a nice dinner that Madame Bo made. I just hope you can handle watching Kung Lao shove food into his mouth. You don’t know how he can keep his lean figure while eating plates upon plates full of food.
Unfortunately there are some in this world who are closed minded. It appears that the sight of you having a nice dinner with Kung Lao didn’t sit right with them. It caused them to make a foolish decision.
A man casually walked up behind your chair as you were in deep conversation with Kung Lao. Suddenly you felt something yank hard at your head. You immediately knew what happened. You screamed not just because your hijab was pulled off but because they yanked so hard it hurt you.
Immediately Kung Lao averted his eyes. He had to think quickly on he had to handle this. An impulsive decision was made and he handed you his trusty razor-rimmed hat.
“Here, use it to hide your head for now.” He said while still looking away.
You grabbed his hat carefully so the razors didn’t cut your fingers. You hid yourself to the best of your abilities. Once you did Kung Lao jumped out of his chair and started bolting for the guy who snatched your hijab. His feet were moving fast to the point many could hear fast tapping against wooden floors.
By the time the guy turned around to see what was coming towards him he felt the pressure of a hard kick to his ribs. Kung Lao dropped kick the man with as much force as he could. If he would have kicked any harder there would have been rib cage pieces floating around in the guy’s body. The kick was still hard enough to send the guy flying into some tables. Kung Lao stood over the man and grabbed his wrist.
“If even a strand of her headscarf is tampered with, you will regret ever crossing me.” His voice conveyed how serious this was.
He looked down at the man with this anger that suggested he would kill him. Now isn’t the time since he has to get your hijab back to you.
Kung Lao came running back with the hijab in his hands. Thankfully there were a group of waitresses who saw the situation and made a circle around you. He handed your hijab over to one of the waitresses so she could pass it back to you.
They were all willing to help you, even Madame Bo who came with a new safety pin since the one you had before was bent from the harsh yank. She helped make sure everything was hidden and that your hijab was all neat. Once you were all good the waitresses allowed Kung Lao to come to you. The moment you saw him you ran into his arms with a few tears slipping down your face.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” You thanked him as you hugged him tight.
“Of course. How could I let some lowlife do such a thing to my girl.” He hugged you back, rubbing your back to soothe you.
He turned his neck a little to look at the guy he just put down. He was making sure he stayed in place but Madame Bo had that taken care of. Kung Lao could see the old woman beat and kick the guy even more, yelling at him for snatching your hijab and messing up the tables. She showed that man no mercy and Kung Lao was grateful for that. Once she was done she had the waitresses throw the guy out and told him he is forever banned from the tea house. Kung Lao thought now would be the time to ask for something that would make you feel better.
“Madame Bo, would you mind if we get more tea and maybe some more-“
“I know, Kung Lao, more of her favorite dish. I’ll have it here soon. And this time it’s on the house.” Madame Bo was already making her way back to the kitchen.
Kung Lao managed to calm you down, telling you he won’t ever let you get hurt and that he will always protect you. He held you close for the rest of the dinner as your worries wore off from eating your favorite dish.
You don’t care what anyone had to say about Kung Lao. He is your hero. He is kind, brave, understanding, and one heck of a fighter. And the best part. He is yours and you are his. You couldn’t have asked for a better man
Tomas
Your visits to the Lin Kuei are always welcomed by the one and only Smoke. But for you, you can call him Tomas.
Your existence is his light. In a whirlpool of fighting, protecting himself from Bi-Han, helping to train others, and dealing with the harsh weather of Arctika, you are the hand that reached out to save him. Whenever you visit he is reminded that there is much more than the life he has in the Lin Kuei.
Immediately once you stepped into the temple he came at you with a hug. Gosh he gives out the best hugs. You hugged him back with as much strength as you could muster but even with that you were no match for him. You two laughed at your attempt.
You two started to make your way to his room. You got the chance to say hi to Kuai Liang and even Bi-Han, though all he gave you was a low grumble. He’s funny like that. And of course out of courtesy you said hi to some of the Lin Kuei. But there was one who just had to be a prick.
For some odd reason one of the clansmen didn’t like you. There was no reason, he just didn’t. There are unfortunately some people in this world who are like that. A hatred that festers and they act upon it. And this one did.
You two were so close to his bedroom before you felt a hand grab at the back of your head. You felt your headscarf slip off your head by force. You gasped as your hands went up to cover your head. Tomas looked away while trying to cover your head as well with his hands. He rushed you to his room and ushered you in before closing it shut.
Tomas snapped his head forward to look at the man, no, no man would do such an act. This is a mere boy. He looked at him holding your hijab in his hands. He tried to make a run for it as if he had anywhere to escape. Tomas chucked a smoke bomb hard in his direction which detonated on impact. It left the boy coughing and wheezing. That gave Tomas enough time to use his smoke magic to sneak up on him and pummel him to the ground. He mindlessly attacked him but not to the point he was in critical conditions. No, he wanted him to stay conscious to feel the point of Tomas’ karambit poking at his chin. When the smoke cleared up the boy was staring up at Tomas with fear. He knew it wasn’t worth it and let go of your hijab. Tomas got off him, keeping an eye on him as he took your headscarf back. All the ruckus alerted Bi-Han and the others and they came running to see what happened.
“What is the meaning of this, Tomas?” Bi-Han growled.
“This person is dishonorable in every way. He is unworthy to be in the Lin Kuei. He is unworthy in every single way. He should know better than to harass someone who has done nothing wrong.” Tomas still stared down at the boy with fury.
Bi-Han saw your hijab in his adopted brother’s hands. He put two and two together and figured out the situation. For once he agreed with Tomas’ actions. He grabbed the lowlife by the back of their uniform and started to walk towards the exit. He threw the person out with no mercy before yelling,
“You are hereby banished from the Lin Kuei!”
Tomas quickly went back to you. He knocked on the door and when you cracked open the door a little he handed you your hijab. It took you a bit to put it back on but once you did you cracked open the door again to let him know he can come in.
He ran in, shut the door, and brought you into a hug.
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. Please tell me you’re okay. Forgive the Lin Kuei this is not the way we are.” He apologized and begged for your forgiveness as if it was his fault.
“Tomas, you did nothing wrong. I know this is not how your clan is. I’m just shocked this would happen.”
“I won’t ever let this happen to you again. And if it does I’ll hunt them down to the ends of the earth. You don’t deserve to go through that again.”
He kept hugging you and placing kisses on your forehead. It helped calm your nerves down.
Seeing Tomas act so quickly to defend you and get your hijab back showed how much he loves you. If you actually saw what he did you would see he would even kill for you. You knew you’re in safe hands right now. He didn’t want that incident to spoil your guys time together so he made the most out of the day.
Soon after the Lin Kuei came around to apologize as well for that one member’s actions. Even Kuai Liang and Bi-Han apologized. Bi-Han especially since he is the grandmaster. You let them know you understand it’s not them and you appreciate their apologies. It gave Tomas the idea of how you guys could spend the day together. He and a few other clansmen taught you how to defend yourself to make sure you can keep yourself safe. It was quite useful and you were happy with the time you were spending with Tomas. In a way this is to show he is always protecting you whether it be by his hands or yours.
You certainly have a great man by your side.
Kuai Liang
Lovely weather has made itself present in Japan. Now is a good time to take a break from the Shirai Ryu and spend time with you.
You and Kuai Liang both wanted to explore Japan more since he started creating a clan here. Kanazawa seemed like a good please to start. Specifically Kenrokuen garden. The garden is beautiful all year round. He said he would love to go to a place that matches your eternal beauty.
The cherry blossoms were in bloom at the moment so it was lovely to see them blowing in the wind. Taking in the sight of nature made you feel tranquil. You walked with your arms wrapped around Kuai Liang’s arm. He would translate whatever you needed to be translated so that you understood everything around you. Cause you certainly needed to know about the Karasaki pine trees. You have never seen such strange trees before.
As much as Kuai Liang was admiring the scenery he was admiring you as well.
Yet even a calm place like the garden can’t help those who lack decency. I guess there will always be the disrespectful ones in places that honor respect. And to think this mentality came from a foreigner.
It happened unexpectedly and suddenly. One moment you were looking up at the cranes that flied high in the skin and the next you feel your hijab slipping off your head. At first it was slipping away gently which made you think it was loose. But then it was yanked off and you were left stunned by the action.
Kuai Liang didn’t see your head but he did see a man run past you with your hijab in his hand. You put your hands up to hide your head to the best of your abilities. Kuai Liang immediately took action against the scum.
Suddenly the person felt a rope tighten around their waist. It was like a snake was wrapped around them. They felt a tug and before they could even look back they heard a deep and anger-filled yell.
“Get over here!”
Kuai Liang yanked his roped kunai back. Dragging the perpetrator towards him. Everything went by so fast the person didn’t have time to avoid Kuai Liang’s harsh kick. That kick could have snapped the spine and cause spinal fluids to spill out. They slammed down against the ground with a loud groan. Kuai Liang stomped on him to keep him in place before scolding him.
“Show some respect. Do you have no sense of worth? Only those who are low and weak do such actions.” Kuai Liang insulted him before taking your headscarf back.
He held it out behind him for you to take. Luckily some other female visitors saw the situation and tried to hide you just in case anyone else came around. They handed the hijab back to you for you to put back on. After a few moments they alerted Kuai Liang that it was all good. He looked back at you before taking your hands into his.
“I’m sorry this happened to you. Today should have been a peaceful day. If only I knew there would be dishonorable men walking around.” He took another jab at the man.
“It’s not your fault, Kuai Liang. I’m just glad you got my hijab back. I don’t know what would have happened if he got away.” There was still worry in your voice from thinking about the possibility.
“I guess we won’t know now. And we will never know because I will make sure no man does such things to you. You deserve so much more in this world.” He gave you a kiss on your forehead while his thumb rubbed against your hand.
The confidence in his voice made you certain that his words are true. You trust that he will do you right no matter what. That’s how Kuai Liang is.
“Perhaps we should head somewhere else. I would hate for us to be disturbed again. Would you like to explore the Nishi Chaya district?”
You nodded your head, you could go for some tea right about now.
Kuai Liang quickly wrapped up his rope and took your hand again as you ventured on. The lowlife was left on the ground with the women who helped you to berate him even more. You couldn’t understand what they were saying but they sure put some spice into their attitude.
You were just glad to end the day on a good note by going to a tea house. You enjoyed your tea while having the opportunity to try some desserts. You always wanted to try dango and warabimochi! You certainly felt better with the fact that Kuai Liang was looking at you with the most loving and caring expression.
He really cares for you and he wants you to have many great experiences in your life. And to see you now calm with your cheeks full of sweets is the best view he could have. He’ll make sure he can always have this beautiful view of you.
You are just grateful to have a man like Kuai Liang. One who is always willing to protect you without a second guess. And one who will buy you some good desserts.
After notes: I’m sorry your friend had to deal with that. I’m hoping this is good enough. If not I could try to do it again. If I got some details wrong notify me in any way so I can edit things. But I hope this will bring her comfort.
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uselessnbee · 5 months
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what i wish people would also explore more when it comes to Percy is the other side of his feelings about his mom about family and his childhood but this fandom is too afraid to paint Sally even in the slightest bad light (even if it's not bad just acknowledging her flaws because she's a human being and not perfect) that no one will touch on that subject. like yes Sally is the best mom but she also isn't and that's the thing! She isn't perfect! but she tried her best but her best still got Percy hurt and it isn't her fault at all but that's the tragedy of it. i want Percy's feelings about this explored. how he grew up with a loving mom but an abusive step father. how his step father would humiliate him and call him stupid but then his mom soothed him and told him he's not the things Gabe calls him. how Gabe would hurt him and Sally would be there to make him happy and loved but at the same time she stayed with him. i want Percy's feelings explored about how he knows his mother loves him but her absence still hurt him. she would work so much to have money to raise him she did that for him but at the same time it meant Percy was left alone or with Gabe. Sally gave up so much for him, she sent him away to protect him but at the same time he was sent away from his mom. she's the only parent he has because his father is absent and Gabe is not actually a parental figure at all but she's also often absent in his life too and that must have left him with such mixed feelings because it's not all black and white! Sally's love protected him but also hurt him. Percy loves his mom so so so much but there's also this deep-seated bitterness and hurt and anger he never let himself feel and then the guilt for having those feelings because his mom loves him he knows that and she gave up so much for him and she married a monster that abused her to protect him, he knows that but it doesn't make it hurt any less. the mess his emotions are because he knows his mom suffered for him and did it from her love for him but he still desperately wishes she never married that monster that he wouldn't have to have the childhood he had with him that he wouldn't have to live with the trauma he was left with. this all is exactly what makes their relationship so fascinating and also heartbreaking.
or the idea of Percy having weird mixed feelings after Estelle is born because that's his little sister and he loves her with his whole heart and would do anything for her and wants only the best for her but there's also this little jealous monster deep down that wonders why she gets to have a loving mom and a loving dad and a happy normal life but he never got that. why does she deserve it but not him? why couldn't he have that too? doesn't he deserve that too? he was just a child too so why why why??? and then the guilt of feeling that way too it makes me want to scream. emotions are fucking messy and they can be really ugly and they can make you hate yourself and there's no way Percy's feelings aren't a mess when it comes to this and i want to see it explored so badly!
and with Sally too! her feelings about Percy because she did so much and tried her best but sometimes unfortunately your best isn't good enough and it still got her beloved son hurt and she hates it and feels so guilty but she just has to live with that but she can't help to wish it was different. that their lives would be different. better. normal. she can't help but to wish she didn't have to do the things she's done, didn't have to suffer so much just to protect her child. can't help to wish she didn't have to worry so much, didn't have to be so scared about Percy, didn't have to be terrified that one day he won't come back home to her, that she won't be able to hold her son anymore because he will be gone, she just wishes he didn't have to suffer so much, she just wishes and wishes and wishes
and i just wish people weren't so afraid to explore this because it's so heartwrenching and yes if you want something do it yourself but unfortunately i cannot write nor am i able to handle this topic in a way it deserves so i am left only with rambling about it on here thank you
#i am not trying to victim blame or anything i love Sally and she did her best and didn't deserve any of the crap life gave her#but there's just something so tragic about the fact that she married a vile man and suffered abuse to protect her son#just for her decision to hurt him anyways just in a different way but the only other option would probably be Percy ending up dead#so she can't really truly regret it but she just wishes those weren't their only options#that she didn't have to do this just so that her child could stay alive#thinking about it makes me go feral#they had no choice but to suffer there was no way for their lives to be without this much hurt and trauma and it's terrible#and they didn't deserve it but there was so much love too#but the horrible thing is that that love just wasn't enough to save them from all that pain and i need to be sedated bye#percy jackson#sally jackson#pjo#hoo#percy and sally#percy jackon and the olympians#whatever you do don't think about a six years old lonely Percy sitting in a corner waiting for his mom to come back home from work#and he knows she loves him but he misses her so much when she spends so much time in work and that hurts#don't think about a ten years old Percy being sent away to a boarding school and he knows his mom loves him#but what if she's sending him away because he's just too much? or not enough? and what if she doesn't want him anymore?#and he knows that's not true but what if?#i'm thinking it#okay i think that's enough
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fairy-angel222 · 2 months
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You as a milf and Gojo as your son’s friend. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
He’s always so flirty with you and you just brush it off because you found it cute really. The way he would send constant smirks and winks your way, leaving your son and the rest of their friends upstairs only to be in the kitchen with you. Using his usual excuse of, “if you won’t help out your mom i will.”
His hands accidentally brushing way too close to your ass which looked so damn delicious in those tight fucking pants. You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the white haired boy. But you were old enough to be his mother.. and he was one of your son’s closest friends.
You ignored the tingling in your stomach when you felt him creep up behind you as you bent over. His body bending to fit against yours and his hot breath fanning over your ear. “You know miss l/n.. we’d be perfect together. I may be young but i have everything to satisfy you right—” grinding his hips up into you, “here.”
“S-satoru.. you know that that’s not possible.”
“Why, hmm? I know you want me.” he smirked, kissing down your neck softly.
“No, i don’t. This is wrong.”
A lie. You did want him.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Well.. i guess you won’t feel anything if i did this.”
Gojo turned you around by your waist swiftly, his lips connecting with yours while his hands roamed down your body, settling on the plush underside of your ass.
Your hands rested on his hard chest with the intention of pushing him away. Instead finding yourself letting out a satisfied moan, your fingers gripping at his shirt as he groped your soft flesh.
“Fuck what am i doing, i said this was wrong.” you said sternly to yourself, giving him one last glance before you walked out of the kitchen. Your head bowed in shame with your lip sat between your teeth.
What was wrong with you.
Is what you said over and over in your head as you found yourself bouncing on Gojo’s cock. His hands on your hips and a sadistic grin on his face as he watched you moan and whimper on top of him.
Your son had gone to pick up some food for the group, dragging his other two friends along while Gojo insisted he stayed back. Claiming that he was not feeling up to leaving the house.
“What happened to your morals huh? Thought this was wrong.” he breathed, eyes focused on the bouncing of your massive tits as you moved up and down on his cock. Rolling your hips so that his thick tip grazed along your g spot perfectly.
“Oh God—” you cried out, your stomach tightening as you dug your nails deeper into his pale shoulders. “Satoru.”
“You’re squeezing me so- shit— fucking tight ma.”
You only moaned, your vision blurry as you threw back your head with your mouth agape. His dick no doubt hitting deeper than anyone has ever reached before.
“F-fuck Satoru— you’re so- nngh, you feel so good.”
Gojo groaned loudly when you began needily rocking your hips on his cock, your mewls loud and laced with desperation. Your brain was plagued with thoughts of him. His hands, his voice, his scent.
This was so wrong, and you hated yourself for giving in. But he felt so damn good.
“Would’ve dicked you down ages ago if i knew you wanted me this badly.”
You tugged at his hair with a sultry moan, your body trembling and your eyes rolling back as you approach your high. “Satoru,” you mewled, “i’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me sweetheart? Make a mess all over this young cock that you seem to love so much.” he rasped, his lips parted in hard pants as you clenched down on him. His dick twitching within the wetness of your pussy.
You let out a high pitched cry, back arching as you creamed his cock. Your pussy drenching his thighs.
“There we go. Look at how messy she is for me.” he groaned, leaning forward and capturing your neck in his teeth. Your head rolling to the side to give him room for his marks.
Gojo’s hold on your hips tightened, thrusting his hips roughly up into you as he chased his own orgasm. Lewd sounds of skin against skin echoing the room together with your noises.
“Fuck, what if i got you pregnant and became (your son)’s new daddy.” he chuckled darkly, letting out a chant of curses before easily slipping out of your dripping warmth. Allowing his cum to spill onto your exposed skin. Your lower belly, your pretty pussy lips, your plump thighs.
“So fuckin’ pretty. You sure this wasn’t enough to change your mind?”
You looked at him with half lidded eyes, feeling yourself grow tired as you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “N-no.. this was,” your eyelids fluttered. “..a mistake.”
Gojo only smiled, a wide one. This was only the first time and it most certainly would not be the last. He was serious about being with you. Taking care of you. And he knew that you wanted it too.
Gojo panicked when he heard the front door slam shut, looking down to see your beautiful sleeping form. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
A knock. “Hey mom have you seen Satoru anywhere?”
He was so screwed… but it was so damn worth it.
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augustinewrites · 9 months
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“babe. baaaabe. babe!”
“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap. 
he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”
“yes,” you answer quickly.
you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.” 
“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk. 
“what? i wasn’t your first?!”
“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”
“am i though?”
“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”
behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”
you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction. 
but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.
“yaga said you wanted to see me?”
cue overreaction.
“you had a crush on— on him?” 
nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek. 
“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”
nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”
“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?” 
your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically. 
“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.” 
even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that. 
you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”
“you wouldn’t have been—”
“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”
_____
“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.
“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”
you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”
he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?” 
“you do look very handsome.” 
“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”
he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”
you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.” 
he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”
“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”
“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.” 
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verstappen-cult · 3 months
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GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID
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INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant. BONUS. . . lance stroll.
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
it stared with a couple of innocent kisses in lando’s driver room before the race. you don’t usually engage in that kind of behavior at least until after a race, but lando was feeling a little under the weather and while you were only trying to comfort him, he had other plans. and, well, if that makes him feel better you won’t deny him a little bit of fun. now, you’re straddling your boyfriend’s thighs, it’s hot and you want to rip your top and his fireproofs off, and lando, as always, is one step ahead of you. his hands slip under your shirt, the pad of his fingers softly caressing your skin as his lips find the pulse point on your neck. you don’t know if the whimper you hear belongs to you or lando, the only thing you know is that the race can wait a few minutes.
“lando it’s time to g–” you don’t hear the end of the sentence because lando’s race engineer it’s too stunned to finish speaking. you’re quick to jump off of your boyfriend’s lap, but you’ve been caught and it’s impossible to deny what you were doing, there’s evidence on yours and lando’s face. the man just laughs and closes the door, saying something about keeping his head clear of any distraction.
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★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
you were just trying to help charles clean his shirt after you spilled your drink on top of him. but he was so close to you, his breath tickling your cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, and it just happened. the kiss was shy at first, both of you uncertain of what you were doing. but then you were being lifted up by charles and sat down on the sink, legs immediately parting to make room for him. you didn’t care that you were in dani’s guest bathroom and anyone could walk in on you, you also didn’t care when charles’ hands found your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh while his mouth kept the assault in yours, neither did you care when those same hands lifted your dress up, up and up until you could clearly feel the effect your kisses were making on him.
you were ready to ask charles to do something when the door opened startling you both. charles stepped away and you jumped off the sink, trying to brush your hair and looked presentable to the owner of the house who was now looking at you, surprise written all over his face before bursting out laughing. “guys! you won’t believe this!” it only took a panicked looked between you and charles for the boy to sprint down the hallway to try and shut his friend up.
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★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
you don’t know if australia has something in the air or if being in oscar’s childhood bedroom is making you feel a certain way. but the second the door closes, you’re leading him to the bed. oscar is a little uncertain at first and looks like he’s about to say something, but the words die in his throat the moment your lips find his. he doesn’t wait a minute in taking control, and lays you down on the bed, his body on top of yours. then your impromptu kissing session it’s not enough, you need to feel him closer, you want his hands everywhere.
“would you like some lemonade?” it’s too late for you to pretend to be doing something else than being in an intense making out session when oscar’s mom, the woman you’ve just met that same day, opens the door. when she sees the scene, she quickly closes her eyes, hiding behind her hands. it would make you laugh if it were any other situation. oscar doesn’t move but looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “i did not see a thing!” you would pretty much prefer for the earth to swallow you whole than to face the woman again.
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★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
it’s not max’s fault that you look so, so good in that damn dress that all he wants is to rip it off of you. if the FIA gala wasn’t so important—it’s not. not for him, at least—he would get out of there immediately. instead, he has to settle with crowding you against a wall in a secluded corner of the building when he finally has some time for you. he can barely keep his hands to himself, and is touching you even before you can feel his lips against yours. max whispers sweet nothings as his lips go from your mouth to your neck and then up again, making you feel dizzy. he lifts your dress up around your thighs, and you allow him access in a heartbeat, not caring about anything but how addicting his kisses are.
“ejem,” a cough makes max pull away, and doesn’t hesitate on shielding your body with his, giving you enough time to fix up your clothes. “we’re next.” christian horner tries to look at anywhere but you, and you don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or feel ashamed. both, probably. max dismisses him with a simple nod of his head, and once you’re alone, max goes back to what he was doing before. you still have a few minutes to spare, he says.
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★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
you were having the time of your life choosing an outfit for a party next week, your boyfriend waiting for you just outside the changing room; you actually were focused on trying to zip up a beautiful black dress you had chosen when the door opened, revealing alex with a mischievous smile on his face. as quick as he opened it, he closed it behind him. you didn’t question him, it’s definitely not the first time he’s done something like this, so, you, more than happy, welcomed him with open arms and a set of pink and plump lips. and alex is immediately swiping his tongue across your bottom lip and kissing your properly—kissing you so slow while gently cupping your face, trying to take as much as he wants from you, and you’re ready to give it to him freely.
“is someone there?” a girl’s voice startles you both, but before you can think of hiding alex or saying something—not that you can with your boyfriend’s mouth against yours—she’s opening the door. neither you nor alex know what to do other than to stay very still and very quiet, as if that would make the girl forget what she saw.
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★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
you told daniel that hiding in the airplane bathroom to make out wasn’t a good idea, but you still got up and went voluntarily when he gave you the signal. waiting for him to knock was torture, you were pretty sure you were going to get caught. but when you opened the door and your boyfriend pulled you in to finally kiss you, you forgot about everything. the way daniel kisses should be illegal—how he lets you take the lead until your kisses become sloppy and your head feels dizzy and you can’t keep up with it because it feels so good. then he takes control, gripping your waist with such force it’ll leave marks; the mere thought makes you weak in the knees.
“open up! you can’t do that in here.” a huge knock on the door makes you pull away, but daniel doesn’t let you go, chasing after you until you give up and kiss him again. this time the kisses are more intense and the tiny bathroom it’s too warm and you’re wearing too many clothes. the person behind the door is forgotten the moment daniel gets so close that you become one. you’re already in trouble, so, it’s doesn’t matter if you stay a few more minutes in there.
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★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
kissing at clubs is not something you would’ve done in the past, not even when lights are so low and no one cares what the person next to you is doing. but ever since you started dating mick, there are a lot of things you’ve already done that you never thought you would do. and making out in a corner of the club with mick pressing against the window, his body molding into yours just in the right spots is definitely one of them. mick is practically knocking the air out of your lungs with the way he’s kissing you, and you have to hold onto his shoulders afraid of melting to the ground. you don’t know where you are, and you really don’t care as long as mick keeps kissing you like that, so you don’t push him away when you feel his hand making its way up your thigh, getting closer to where you need him the most.
but then you hear people laughing. mick pulls away first, groaning for being interrupted, but then you look around and you’re right next to the bathroom from where a group of girls are walking out. you feel all the blood in your body rushing to your face, they look amused but you want to disappear. you hide your face in your boyfriend’s chest and don’t look up until mick is the one lifting your chin up to kiss you. this time he takes your hand while saying something about going home to finish what you started.
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★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)
it’s childish. and all of you are adults. you definitely should not be playing truth or dare in a party like thirteen years old. however, you don’t say anything when oscar dares you to spend seven minutes in the closet with logan. it’s true you both have been dancing around each other for a while now, what you didn’t know it’s that it was so obvious for everyone around you too. the cheering from your friends dies down when the door closes and you and logan are alone. you look into each other’s eyes for a minute, pure silence in the secluded space, then logan glances down at your lips and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize he’s asking for permission. your eyelashes flutter as you take a step closer, and he wraps his arms around your waist without a trace of hesitation. you’re gasping into his mouth the next second, his lips warm and soft. his fingers brush along your jaw and, in that moment, you decide this won’t be the last time you’re gonna be tasting his lips, you want to do it every hour of every day.
but then the door opens and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been burned. there are a lot of eyes looking between you and logan for a moment before someone shouts “fucking finally!” and everyone’s laughing and cheering. when you look at logan again, he has a lopsided grin plastered on his face.
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★ — LANCE STROLL (18)
lance made sure you two were alone in his parent’s house before taking you in his arms and sitting on the couch. he smiles at you with the same bright and pretty smile that stole your heart one time two years ago as you run your hands through lance’s hair, down his neck and over his shoulders, letting them rest on his chest. lance grabs onto your waist and meets your lips halfway, all his body relaxing immediately. he kisses you so softly but determined, licking into your mouth when you give him access, like it’s his last day on earth and he needs you to keep breathing, surviving. you let his hands roam freely over your body and you can feel your heart pounding so hard, almost as if it’s gonna jump out of your chest and you can’t do anything about it. when your boyfriend’s hands graze your lower back for a second before grabbing your arse, a tiny mewl escapes you.
and as you’re about to grind down, “oh my god!” lance’s sister screams in surprise. you both look at her, more embarrassed than afraid. you know your cheeks and ears are as pink as the shirt you’re wearing, and you feel like your skin is actually burning. ”well, i guess we had the same thought.” she says stepping aside, her boyfriend coming into view with a shy smile on his face.
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requested by @biancathecool. . . The boys (individually) Nd fem!reader getting caught making out, with the driver having thier hands shoved down their gfs pants or up their shirt 🫠❤️ Alsin if you could please add lance in this one.
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Big Fish in Gotham Pond
Based off of @saphushia art found here. . I just loved the idea of Tucker not knowing his skill level because he grew up in the boonies
Tucker gets scouted by Wayne Enterprises after he fixes a kid's computer game while in Gotham visiting Danny.
See, Tucker always known he is passable at tech- one has to be when a technology theme ghost is consistently harassing one's best friend- but to be good at something in a small town like Amity Park didn't mean much .
It's a big fish in a small pound sort of deal. That's why he's never put much thought into it. If Tucker were ever to rank himself in terms of school grades, he would say his computer skills were about a C-.
B+ if it was just coding.
His parents also don't think much of his obsession with his PDA or phones. They thought he waste too many hours on them like the rest of his generation.
It didn't matter that Tucker's technology was about five or more years behind his classmates.
The Foley were hard-working people who barely scraped enough for bills. They were never below the property line, but they danced on it often enough that Tucker knew never to ask for unnecessary purchases.
For as long as he could remember, his parents have always worked long and hard hours. He never blamed them for missing so much of his childhood, in fact he was grateful that they worked so hard to keep the roof over his head, but he did miss them.
That's why Danny's house became a haven for him. He was always at the Fenton's place because the loud, wacky family was much better company than the home silence.
Tucker knew that his family's financial situation didn't change how Danny or Sam viewed him. They had his back through tick and thin just as he did for them, but as they got closer to graduation the difference between them became jarring.
Sam had easy picking of what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. Her parents were so overjoyed that she wanted to go to a university that they didn't even argue about her wishing to major in botanical biochemistry.
She had started house hunting in Star City midway through senior year. Her parents would gift it to her as a graduation present. Sam would live there for the next eight years to finish her degree.
Danny's parents, while somewhat eccentric, were also certified geniuses. Between the two of them, they had five PHDs and were often freelancing for companies when not doing ghost research. They too could send their two kids to college States away with housing not being a issue.
Jazz went to Metropolis to study Physiology. She lived in a small apartment but was doing well off her scholarships and parent's funding. Last he heard, she had a part-time job at the Daily Planet as a research assistant to gain some independence.
Danny wanted to go to Gotham for their engineering program. He, too, had an apartment of his own, with scholarships and equal funding from his parents. He also worked at Wayne Enterprises, but he was a receptionist. He hoped that once he graduated, he could apply for their engineering program
Not Tucker. His family could only help him get into Community College near Amity. He also couldn't afford to move out so he stayed with them, picking up a part time job to help out when he could.
Tucker is a first-generation college student so even though it wasn't much, he loved to see how his parents glowed when telling others their boy was futhering his education. He wanted to do something that paid well- and after years of patching up Danny- he figured nursing would do the trick.
Tucker would do all his basics in the community College, take a break to save up some money and then move on to the bigger schools.
The day of the graduation felt bittersweet. Team Phantom was finally adults, finally starting out in the real world, but while Danny and Sam moved on to bigger and better things, Tucker knew he would be left behind in little no-where Amity Park.
He never brought it up, but he felt a small dosage of envy the last day of summer before his friends finished packing and left.
Despite both being gone, Tucker had little to no social life even though they called, texted, and emailed often. His days blurred between class, work, and home. Even then, classes were long and tedious, work often ending with one or more customers screaming in his face to try and get free food.
His parents quickly started to nag that he should find a wife as they had married young. They couldn't figure out why he didn't want the same, even though he had no social life again.
Life became dull.
Tucker's only sparks of joy were playing online with Danny and Sam - when they found the time to log in or re-coding his old tech to try and salvage it whenever it broke down.
Soon, it became apparent that Tucker was slowly lacking motivation when he started skipping classes to sleep in and started feeling anxious when he needed to clock in for shifts.
It leads to him barely getting out of bed.
He felt horrible about it, thinking his parents sacrificed so much for him only to have him throw away the opportunities they gave him, and the cycle of not being able to get out of bed would start all over again.
It was Danny who caught on, and all but begged Tucker to come to Gotham for a weekend. He even sent money over for the plane ticket.
Tucker couldn't have gotten on that plane fast enough. He arrived early on Friday since the tickets were cheaper- and Uber over to WE headquarters to pick up Danny's keys as they agreed.
That way, Tucker could sleep and rest in the apartment while Danny worked.
Danny would finish his shift and have the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday off to spend with Tucker. When he arrived, Danny was helping a school check in for a field trip, so Tucker sat down to wait.
Next to him, a kid was growling at his laptop, frankly typing and moving his fingers over the computer's touch mouse. Tucker accidentally glimpsed his screen when the kid started swearing in a different language.
It looked like a shooting game but his lag was bad. By the time the boy pressed the buttons to have his little drone move the other flying things he was chasing were flipping though the air and out of his shooting rage.
It sucked when that happened, and since he was using WE free wifi for guests, it was probably the game. The graphics were badass, though. Seemed almost real.
"Hey try updating the system" He tells the kid after seeing the boy once again lag so bad he missed his shot.
Green eyes swing to him drenched in rage. Which yeah, Tucker knows how frustrating that could be.
"Did I ask for your help!?" The boy snaps, his words lined with an upper-class accent. Made sense since he was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform like the rest of the large school group. "Why are you even looking this way, peasant?"
"No, sorry. I just noticed the lag." Tucker raised his hand, slightly amused at the peasant insult. "I thought I could fix it for you."
The boy's face spams, "You believe you have the ability?"
"Ugh sure? I can try?"
"Here. Be quick. The fate of this city's air defenses depend on it" the boy turns his lap top to him and Tucker blinks.
Okay. So fix the game. He can do that.
And he does, quickly opening the code, analyzing the control and commands , he gets it running properly in less then twenty minutes. The boy seems utterly shock but he quickly takes control of the game and shoots down all the escaping ninjas from the sky.
"Thank you." The boy says with no more tense in his shoulders. Then he closes his laptop and dissappears with the crowd of students.
Tucker thought the kid was a cute.
Danny hands him the keys not long after and he leaves.
Never was he aware of the Boy being Damian Wayne and that the game was not a game but a actual defensive drone system that was fighting off the League of Assassins.
He only finds out how important those two facts are when Danny gets a call from Tim Drake asking if he could pass along Tucker's information because the CEO wanted him on staff as soon as possible..
Both nineteen-year-olds lost their minds after getting the call, screaming at each other in ghost shrieks of glee. They called Sam to let her know- and have her lawyers look over the contact Tim Drake sent just to make sure it wasn't a big-time company trying to screw him over.
He went to an interview three days later. He faced Tim Drake, the current seventeen-year-old CEO, Leo Noir, the current head of HR, and Jessica War, the current head of computer services. They asked him many questions about himself- some of which he felt he had answered terribly- then had him take a computer test.
Tucker thought it was busy work, so he quickly breezed through it. He fixed the problem in many of the coding for various programs, adding his flare to the final product, and after thanking them for their time, went out into the lobby.
He hadn't even reached the door before Jesssica ran after him, offering him the job. Apparently, the first two problems they had him do was the busy work. Tucker had thought they were the ones to let him get comfortable with the coding program.
Like a tutorial in video games.
The other seven were actual issues; many of their latest cellphone products failed. Tucker had solved them in an hour, which had taken the actual team of coders about a month.
"Nitey one dollar and thirty-five cents an hour," Tim tells him tapping the hiring contact. "It would be eighty hours every paycheck. You can work here or at home. Full Benefits. What do you say?"
Tucker's jaw drops. "When do I start!?"
He calls his parents to tell them he will be staying in Gotham with Danny. He tries to explain what had happened but it was all so fast that he can only babble about certain parts.
They tell him not to worry about explaining because they understand how much this means to him.
His parents help pack everything for him and when he flies back for it they, offer him hugs and support. Tucker is so glad they aren't mad.
"I sort of knew it was coming," His dad laughs. "You and that Fenton boy have always been inseparable."
"I did the same thing, you know," His mom says, wiping tears from her eyes but smiling all the same. "I moved with your father states away with little to no plan when I turned twenty too. Drove your grandfather mad."
He loves them both so much. He promises to send money- disregarding their denials- and flies back to Gotham, where Danny has opened his apartment until he gets enough for his own place.
He plans on renting a house with three bedrooms, one for him, one for his office, and another for Danny, as soon as he can. He wants to pay his friend back for everything he did and Danny deserves a bigger living space.
And for once, he'll not have to worry about money!
For once, life is looking up!
(What Tucker is unaware of, is that his parents think he moved to the big city to be with his childhood best friend turned recent lover. They don't know that the money he is sending home is from his own payroll and not Danny's. They think he's a stay-at-home husband.
Tucker is also unaware that the Bats are closely watching him in case he goes rogue. They have been slowly "causally" running into him in the city and breaking into his place to check for supervillain activity.)
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vivwritesfics · 9 days
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Max Verstappen Shirt
The fans and fellow wags don't like it when she wears the same out fit to a Grand Prix. She doesn't much care
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There were quite a few things Max liked about dating an ordinary girl. 1) she had no idea who he was. 2) she had no idea who his friends were. 3) she didn't expect anything from him.
Max could get takeout for them while they watched a movie and she would be happy. He didn't have to take her out to fancy, overpriced restaurants. He didn't have to take her out shopping for a new outfit every time they left the apartment.
Now, Max would have done all if this I'd she asked. But she didn’t ask. She appreciated him the way he was.
It was a little while into their relationship before Max took her to her first Grand Prix. Her outfit was cute and extremely weather appropriate. A cute top and a cute pair of jeans. Max walked her through the paddock with his hand on the small of her back.
When Max won, he ran over to his team, jumping into their arms. And then he was taking his helmet off, replaced it with his hat and walked over to her, kissing her slowly. (It was captured on video, and circulated the Internet for weeks. Every time it came across her feed, she couldn't stop herself from sending it to Max).
At the next Grand Prix she dressed as well as she could. The jeans were the same, but the top was different. Her outfit was both complimented and criticised online.
Not that she saw the criticism. No, all she saw was the video of Max kissing her after his win. Of her wrapping her arms so tight around him as she peppered kisses all over his face beforing giving him maybe the most memorable kiss of his life.
She knew Max had money. She was aware of it every time she flew in his private jet. Every time she stayed in his Monaco apartment. Every time he drove her in his cars. She knew he had money, but she didn't want him buying her stuff.
No, that wasn't the reason she was with him. She wasn't there because he was an F1 driver, because he could buy her everything she ever wanted. She was there because he was a cute, slightly dorky guy that she wanted to spend every waking minute with.
She remembered the first time she wore the same thing twice to a Grand Prix. The outfit was so cute, but it didn't matter how cute it was.
So far, all of the other wags had been so lovely to her. They were kind, but she hadn't been around long enough to really be friends with any of them.
It was Daniels girlfriend that pulled her to one side before the race. The two had spent the most time together out of any of the wags she had met so far (aided by Maxs friendship with Daniel).
"Hey Love," she said, wearing a charming smile as she wrapped her arms around her. "I love the top. Have I seen it before?" Daniels girlfriend asked.
Y/N couldn't help but grin as she looked down at her top. "Thanks!" She grinned. "Found it really cheap, wore it to Monaco," she said.
Daniels girlfriend sucked in a breath. "Well, as a general rule, Wags don't wear the same outfit to two grand prix," she said, her hand on her shoulder. "Not unless they really have to."
The way she said it, she was clearly implying something. But she wasn't the only person thinking it. There were people online saying the same thing.
"Well, nice catching up," Daniels girlfriend said and walked away, leaving her alone.
She couldn't bring herself to look dejected as she walked back to the Red Bull garage. Unlike other Wags, she didn't have the funds for a new outfit every race. Max would have been only too happy to buy her a new outfit for every Grand Prix if she asked.
But she wouldn't ask.
"What's up?" Asked Max as she walked towards him with an unintentional pout on her lips.
She quickly replaced the pout with when she looked up at him. "Nothing," she said. "Just hold me."
Doubt and all kinds of negative feelings consumed her. But she was a fighter and she needed to do something about it.
There are incredible things you can find on Etsy, like This Shirt Right Here. She bought herself one. No, she bought herself five. The first time she turned up wearing one, it was iconic. The second time she went to a Grand Prix wearing one, it was still iconic.
If the wags and the fans had a problem with her wearing the same thing to each Grand Prix, they could suck her dick.
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️
Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.
part 1 / part 2
--
Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.
"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."
That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.
"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."
"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.
"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."
James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.
But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."
"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.
"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."
Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.
You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.
"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"
4K notes · View notes
monzabee · 1 month
Text
pon de replay - cl16 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 
Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.
So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.
It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.
“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.
“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.
“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”
If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”
Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.
He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”
That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.
“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.
Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.
“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.
So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”
His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”
If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.
And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”
This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.
“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”
“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.
And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”
Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”
“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”
“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”
And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.
So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”
You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.
“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.
He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”
“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”
“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.
The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.
Or so you’ve thought.
Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”
“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”
You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”
That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.
“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   
“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.
“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.
So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”
“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”
“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”
“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”
“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”
“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.
That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.
“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”
“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”
And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.
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Only in Dreams
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries
a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.
~~
There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 
He had learned that early on. 
In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 
But you were also his mate. 
The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 
“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 
And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 
“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”
Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 
“Azriel—” 
“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 
“You were talking with Rhys?” 
It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 
But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 
As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 
And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 
Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 
You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 
You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 
But then Rhys decided you were needed. 
With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 
“Reconsider.” 
“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 
“Send Majda.” 
Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 
“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 
“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 
“Rhysand.” 
Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.
“Is she…” 
The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 
Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 
“No,” he replied, quick and low. 
“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 
And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 
When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 
He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.
There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 
“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 
Why couldn’t he come, again? 
Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 
“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 
“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 
Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 
“Here to see us off, Az?” 
That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 
So, you went to Windhaven. 
And then you came home hurt. 
Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 
Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 
You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 
Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 
Azriel thought he heard you scream. 
“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.
“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 
Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 
Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 
The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 
“She’s your mate?” 
“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 
The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 
He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 
Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 
When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 
He was a fool. 
“Azriel?” 
He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 
When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 
“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”
The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 
It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 
“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 
“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.
It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 
You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 
Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 
“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 
Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 
“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 
There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.
Determination set a line in his brow. 
“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 
“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 
Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 
“Only when I dream.” 
You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.
As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 
And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.
2K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 3 months
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Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader
Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie since you joined Hellfire Club. Too bad he's crushing on Chrissy Cunningham...right?
Warnings: angst to fluff, idiots in love, super cheesy but it's Valentine's Day so idc WC: 1.6k A/N: My entry for @corroded-hellfire's This is Music! event!
Divider credit to @saradika
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Eddie’s looking at her again.
You can’t blame him; he’d be crazy not to stare at Chrissy Cunningham, clad in her tiny cheerleading uniform with a bouncy blonde ponytail and sugar-sweet giggle. If you just ignore him, act like he isn’t imagining sweeping her off of her feet–
“Do you think I should send her one of those candy gram things?”
Almost instinctively, Dustin’s eyes flicker to you, but he turns back to Eddie before anyone can notice. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he stammers, scrambling for an excuse. “She and Jason, like, just broke up.” 
This information doesn’t deter Eddie in the slightest. “Exactly. She’s probably heartbroken from getting dumped right before Valentine’s Day. I could be her…Freak in Shining Armor.” He grins at his spin on the unwanted nickname, pausing for a half-second before turning to you and asking, “You’re a girl. What do you think?”
The question is almost laughable. What do you think? You think he should stop pining over Chrissy and start seeing you in that same light.
With a painful swallow, you force a strained smile. “If you like her, you should go for it.”
That’s all of the motivation Eddie needs. He slams his palm on the table and proudly declares, “All right, I’m doin’ it.”
Tears bite at your lash line as he strides across the cafeteria over to where the student council has set up the candy gram booth. You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you glance over to see Dustin offering you a sympathetic look.
“He’s an idiot,” he says, low enough so that his words are inaudible to other Hellfire members. “He’ll figure it out one day, but you shouldn’t sit around waiting for it to happen.”
Logic tells you that he’s right, but moving on is easier said than done. Especially when he’s one of your closest friends.
Determined to avoid any inquiring from the other guys, you do your best to assimilate into their conversation about beating this week’s campaign.
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Chrissy received Eddie’s candy gram on Valentine’s Day. To his dismay, she also got one from Jason Carver. 
“Of course she went back to him,” Eddie mutters, tossing his tin lunch box on the cafeteria table with a harsh clang. He heaves a sigh and rests his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you with his big, beautiful eyes. “Am I gonna be alone forever?”
“Probably.” You muster a tense laugh and brush a tendril of his hair off of your cheek. “Maybe you can try sending out a message in a bottle and see if anyone bites.”
He harrumphs and slumps over, burying his face in his palms. “She told me she ‘appreciates my friendship.’” He shakes his head. “Fucking humiliating.”
The irony of his statement is too much to bear, and you slip away from the table with a half-hearted excuse about needing to study for the history test you have next period. 
The walk to the library feels like it takes decades, silent tears falling as soon as you find an empty table among the stacks of books. 
Chrissy wanted Jason the way Eddie wanted Chrissy, which was the same way you wanted Eddie. 
And no one wanted you. 
A few minutes pass before Jeff slides into the seat next to you. “We’re in the same history class. Figured it would make your lie more believable if I had to study, too.” He shrugs. “Plus, I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t. Embarrassment is written all over your face, both at your abrupt exit from the cafeteria and your pathetic crush on Eddie. 
Jeff takes a deep breath. “Look, Eddie doesn’t know what he wants.”
“Seems pretty obvious to me that he wants Chrissy,” you say wryly, twirling a pen between your fingers. 
“No…I mean, yeah. But that’s because she’s, like, safe.”
You scoff. “Asking out the Queen of Hawkins High is safe?” 
“Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out.” Jeff leans in a bit closer so he can whisper to you. “She’s not part of our group, so he doesn’t have to worry about constantly hanging out with her. Plus, she’s nice enough to not publicly destroy his ego. I’m sure she didn’t tell Jason about the candy gram, or else he would’ve announced it to the whole school by now.”
You nod in reluctant agreement. 
“And speaking of that jackass,” Jeff continues, “how many times have they broken up and gotten back together?” 
“Too many to count.” Their relationship is like one of the novelas you watch when you’re stuck at home with a fever. 
“Exactly.” Jeff exhales. “Chrissy paid a little bit of attention to Eddie because she wanted some weed for a party, and now he’s head over heels for her. Because he can be. Because her rejection stings a little, but it’s nothing compared to how being rejected by you would feel.”
Wiping at your tear-dampened cheeks, you shake your head. “I don’t think he cares about being rejected by me.”
He mumbles something under his breath but doesn’t say another word until the bell rings, and the two of you walk to class together. 
Thank God you don’t actually have a test today; you wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to answer a single question. All you think about is what Jeff had implied: that Eddie does like you but is afraid to ruin your friendship.
You brush off the idea as ridiculous. Why would Eddie choose you over the gorgeous head cheerleader?
Uneasiness builds within you until it’s impossible to ignore, and you scrawl a note in the back of your composition notebook before you can fully think it through.
Eddie–
I’m sorry that Chrissy turned you down. Trust me when I say that I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by the person you want the most. It sucks, but you’ll move on and realize that she was the one who missed out, not you.
You sign your name and add a P.S. Fuck Valentine’s Day for good measure, folding the paper in fourths and slipping it into his locker between class periods. Not quite a confession, but it’ll do.
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Eddie’s waiting by your locker after the last bell rings, scraping a front tooth against his bottom lip and fiddling with something. As you get closer, you realize that something is your note.
“Who is he?” Eddie demands to know, sighing impatiently when you raise your brows in confusion. “This mystery guy who doesn’t want you. Who is he?”
“No one. It’s fine,” you say quickly, refusing to make eye contact with him as you twist open the lock. “It was just to let you know that you’re not alone in this, okay?”
He shakes his head and chuckles tersely. “Nah, not okay. I’ve gotta kick his ass.” He shuffles from foot to foot, already anticipating a fight.
“Well, you can’t.”
“And why not?” Eddie scoffs. “I know I’m scrawny, but I’m pretty damn scr–”
“Because you’d be kicking your own ass!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your blood runs cold and your pulse thuds in your ears when you realize what you’ve said. “I’m sorry. That was too much, especially with what happened with Chrissy today.”
You start to leave, but you’re tugged back in place by his gentle grasp on your wrist. “Follow me,” he murmurs. He makes a beeline for the Hellfire room with you right on his heels. As soon as you walk in, he closes the door. “Repeat that? Because I don’t think I heard you right.”
“You’re the guy who doesn’t want me,” you manage through the lump in your throat, “and it’s okay, because we can’t help who we like and who we don’t. I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything like that.” 
You’re rambling, and you tuck your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from talking yourself in circles.
Silence seeps into the room, the only noise is the hum from the fluorescent lights overhead. Finally, Eddie speaks again. “Do you know why I asked you to join Hellfire?”
You swivel your head back and forth in a definite no.
“Yeah, I tried to keep it that way,” he says with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “So, um, I kinda had a massive crush on you. And I figured that we’d get to know each other here and then I’d ask you out or whatever, but I kept chickening out. So…there ya have it.” He shifts his hands as if to say ta-da.
“And now you like Chrissy.” Out with the old, in with the new.
Eddie takes a small step closer, one ring-clad hand taking yours. “Not the way I like you,” he breathes, his other thumb tracing a faint line over your jaw. “Not even close.”
You close the gap between you, tilting your head so your lips meet his. The fear that he’ll hesitate or turn his head altogether disappears as soon as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. His hand tucks behind your ear, and he leaves it there until you both have to break away for air.
The two of you wear matching smiles, shy but relieved. Eddie leans in to kiss you once again, only to be interrupted by the rest of the club’s musings.
“Took them long enough.”
“Seriously, I thought we were just gonna have to watch them pine over each other forever.”
“Crap, do you think they can hear us?”  
“Yeah, shit-heads, we can hear you,” Eddie calls out with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before turning back to you.
“Now, where were we?”
--
3K notes · View notes
nezuscribe · 4 months
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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)
warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)
word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)
note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)
jjk masterlist
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You had a great life, as far as it went. 
You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much. 
Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?
“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration. 
“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed. 
“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!” 
You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side. 
“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw. 
“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!” 
You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before. 
Life was great, for the most part. 
As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on. 
For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.
Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market. 
“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact. 
You were terribly in love with her brother. 
You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes. 
Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in. 
The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there. 
“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got. 
“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive. 
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color. 
He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip. 
It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you. 
He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason. 
He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread. 
It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week. 
“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.
“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse. 
“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.” 
Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.
“I’ll be there.” You promised. 
For better or for worse, you’d be there. 
---
The ball was just as you had imagined it. 
Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded. 
One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact). 
Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match. 
You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him. 
Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious. 
The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore. 
“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate. 
“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress. 
“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you. 
“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional. 
“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”
“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument. 
For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him. 
“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something. 
Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you. 
Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one. 
“Looking for something?”
A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you
Him. 
“Oh!” 
Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great. 
“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”
You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in. 
He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic. 
His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend. 
Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core. 
You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.
“So…?” 
“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”
“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it. 
“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended. 
You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy. 
“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage. 
“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side. 
“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey. 
Fuck, you’re never going to get over him. 
“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks. 
“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him. 
“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”
“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies. 
“I-”
“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment. 
It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions. 
And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try. 
You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it. 
---
“I despise men!”
You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour. 
“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head. 
“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”
“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next. 
“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”
“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him. 
“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”
“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut. 
“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly. 
“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,�� she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”
“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder. 
“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry. 
You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle. 
“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her. 
“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you. 
“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure. 
“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world. 
You wish the sofa could swallow you whole. 
“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence. 
“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”
Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth. 
“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself. 
You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him. 
“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour. 
“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides. 
“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward. 
“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”
He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses. 
“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer. 
“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over. 
“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”
Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself. 
“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his. 
You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor. 
“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything. 
“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out. 
The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm. 
“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but. 
It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything. 
Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer. 
“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.” 
And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature. 
“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright. 
“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé  and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up. 
“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe. 
“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”
You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement. 
“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”
“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct. 
“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more. 
“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?” 
You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference. 
All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them. 
“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation. 
“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him. 
“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”
The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you. 
“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did. 
“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”
Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her. 
A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman. 
“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.” 
You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature. 
“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head. 
“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”
And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;
Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you. 
---
“Miss,” 
You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door. 
“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”
Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning. 
“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month. 
“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply. 
Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers. 
“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip. 
Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-
“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction. 
“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring. 
It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer. 
His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you. 
“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”
“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric. 
“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”
You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. 
“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?
“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess. 
“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit. 
“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors. 
“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?
“What was Cornwallis doing here?” 
You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results. 
“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then. 
His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied. 
Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother. 
“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole. 
“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”
“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient. 
“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise. 
“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation. 
“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face. 
“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you. 
You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen. 
“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?” 
You stopped computing his words. 
“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding. 
“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good. 
His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love. 
Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness. 
---
You should have said no. 
The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was. 
Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow. 
Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much. 
Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.
You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now. 
“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be. 
“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.
“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people? 
“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could. 
“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”
You wanted to shove him to the ground. 
“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin. 
“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize. 
You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead. 
The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was. 
Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting. 
“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes. 
“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap. 
“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist. 
“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances. 
“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well. 
“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.
“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense. 
“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements. 
“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea. 
“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit. 
You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes. 
“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him. 
You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.
“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it. 
“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru. 
Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart. 
You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.
You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily. 
It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off. 
“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him. 
“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her. 
“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness. 
As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him. 
“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside. 
“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it. 
“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones. 
“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth. 
“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”
“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you. 
“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now. 
“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation. 
“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.” 
Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband. 
Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun. 
And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic. 
“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…” 
You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 
“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk. 
“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?” 
You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning. 
If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed. 
“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!” 
Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would. 
“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger. 
“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”
You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so. 
“What’s your issue?” 
You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you. 
“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it. 
“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least. 
You feel like your head is about to explode. 
“I just-”
“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it. 
“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears. 
“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late. 
“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!” 
You took a deep breath and began. 
“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise. 
“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.  
“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened. 
“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features. 
He finally remembers. 
“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you. 
“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them. 
“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him. 
“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come. 
For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows. 
---
The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough. 
To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain. 
Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic. 
“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen. 
“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”
She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”
She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone. 
Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior. 
Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you. 
Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing. 
They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you. 
“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her. 
“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window. 
“I’m making sure you didn’t.” 
Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer. 
You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone. 
“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice. 
“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”
“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes. 
The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits. 
You’re not sure you could do that now. 
“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent. 
“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”
You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug. 
“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”
“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”
You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction. 
“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?” 
She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something. 
“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it. 
“I swear.” She repeats gravely. 
You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends. 
“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”
Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away. 
“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.” 
You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse. 
“What?” 
She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall. 
“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”
---
Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe. 
You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility. 
The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount. 
The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it. 
For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit. 
Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down. 
You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him. 
“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer. 
“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.
In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea. 
“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer? 
“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?” 
Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother. 
“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”
“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.” 
She drank some of her wine. 
“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son. 
“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply. 
“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”
You could swear you heard a tooth crack. 
“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him. 
“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”
“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth. 
“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded. 
“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy. 
“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place. 
“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”
You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days. 
“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”
You felt your heart tumble. 
“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner. 
“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”
You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life. 
You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room. 
Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options. 
You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked. 
It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside. 
It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you. 
You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box. 
You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it. 
They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.
Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you. 
A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope. 
Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open. 
“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you. 
You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build. 
“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted. 
“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?” 
You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps. 
“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame. 
“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters. 
“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back. 
Which just made you want it even more. 
You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands. 
“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you. 
He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest. 
Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter. 
“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.” 
Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words. 
“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.
But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now. 
If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you. 
“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something, 
“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”
You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them. 
You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him. 
He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it. 
His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest. 
You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling. 
He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you. 
It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning. 
Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you. 
“Viscount Gojo?” 
The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door. 
“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes. 
“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.
“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them. 
You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions. 
“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”
You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried. 
“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.” 
You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left. 
You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner. 
---
A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it. 
It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil. 
Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened. 
She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it. 
“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed). 
“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”
She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name. 
“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name. 
“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?”  You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him. 
“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face. 
“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”
“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue. 
“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name. 
“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either. 
“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head. 
“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it. 
“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard. 
“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn. 
The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you. 
“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.” 
You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks. 
“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 
“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.” 
You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup. 
You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep. 
With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.
“Do you need help with that?” 
You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed. 
Ella was never going to hear the end of it. 
You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck. 
“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart. 
You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours. 
“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.” 
Oh.
“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.
You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see. 
He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you. 
“Read it.” 
You certainly weren’t expecting that. 
“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-” 
“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.” 
You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst. 
“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-
“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you. 
“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…” 
“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them. 
You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away. 
“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled. 
You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands. 
“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected. 
The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel. 
You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology. 
“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.” 
His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you. 
“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box. 
“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you. 
“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart. 
He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality. 
“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart. 
Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing. 
He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip
It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible. 
It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it. 
Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt. 
“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.” 
You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory. 
“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought. 
“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon. 
He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment. 
But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue. 
You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do. 
“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to. 
“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him. 
Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you. 
Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it. 
“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear. 
His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels. 
“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.” 
You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him. 
“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.” 
At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself. 
So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind. 
“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this. 
You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance. 
You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most. 
“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him. 
“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further. 
He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there. 
He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal. 
“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!” 
“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?” 
He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out. 
“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.
It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth. 
“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist. 
You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey. 
“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan. 
“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm. 
“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.” 
“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest. 
“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.” 
You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets. 
He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning. 
Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was. 
“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest. 
“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 
“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.” 
You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth. 
“Do you promise?” 
He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours. 
“Promise.” 
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rootbeerworshiper · 1 month
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chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: an argument with your boyfriend leaves you more insecure than ever, his words ringing in your head until he finds a way to make it up to you.
warnings: angst, hint of fluff not rlly, fem!receiving, so much praise, some use of pet names, slight overstimulation, fingering……yeah!
@nicksmainbitch hopefully you enjoy i tried my best to do your request justice
a/n: this is so short i’m so sorry im working on so many series rn but i wanted to get a oneshot out feel free to hate me
love, sienna <3
“maybe you’re just too insecure to be in a relationship” Chris yells, releasing every ounce of anger he stored away with one simple sentence.
you feel frozen, feet planted heavily in the ground although you’re knees could give out at any moment. this conversation was not supposed to be happening, not here.
not when Chris was supposed to go film a video and especially not when you had a major final coming up—the stress of both things clearly manifesting it’s way into your relationship.
the fluorescent lighting of the boys room sends rays over your whole body, ironically making you feel like a spotlight is shining at you, egging you on to say something in reply—but you can’t.
your body reacts to his words before your brain does, a quivering lip and eyes full of tears that want nothing more than to pour out.
is this really how he saw you? some insecure fragile girl who’s not ready for a relationship?
maybe he’s not entirely wrong about the fragile part, because all you can do is cry, and as pathetic as it may be, it’s the only thing you have the strength for.
you and Chris have been fighting for the past few weeks, it started off as small snarky responses but developed into arguments that left an echo on practically the whole neighbourhood.
subconsciously, you hug yourself, wrapping your shaking hands around your waist to seek some comfort, even if your boyfriend is standing directly across from you.
for a second, you see a glimpse of pity in his eyes, something in his brain telling him for a split second telling him he’s in the wrong, but before he can walk over to replace your hands with his own you snap.
“do you think i’m stupid or something? is that what you genuinely think of me?” you attempt to raise the volume behind your voice but instead it comes out more croaky, more weak.
Chris starts defending himself, as he does far too often. “of course not y/n i just-“
“rachel. you’d rather spend time with fucking rachel than your own girlfriend.”
he’s silent, taking his own turn being dead frozen.
“maybe i am insecure, Chris, but at least im respectful enough to not cancel on my long term girlfriend for some girl i just met on fucking instagram” your sadness is replaced with anger when you lay everything out.
“you know, i had just finished fucking pouring my heart out into my journal about how you’re the one for me, about how i saw a forever with you, and then” you let out a petty laugh. “and then i go on instagram to see my boyfriend, Chris Sturniolo at boa steakhouse with some instagram influencer”
“she’s just a-“ he starts, ultimately getting cut off by your own anger yet again.
“do you know how embarrassing that is for me? going with with some friend to a fucking fancy steakhouse, the steakhouse you took us on our first date to?”
It really is insane when you lay it out like this, even when part of you felt like you were in the wrong, his wrongs outweighed any insecurities you had.
you let out a sigh, seemingly signalling the end to your anger because he begins speaking again. “i know what it looks like, i do. but it’s not like that and i don’t know how else to explain that to you, i think you just need to grow up and understand that i can have girl friends while you’re my girlfriend”
nope. no fucking way.
“i think you need to grow up and realize that you’re dumbass just lost any chance you had at saving this relationship, have fun with rachel” you turn away immediately, slamming his door behind yourself before he can’t even chase you down.
the walk up is uncomfortable, both of Chris brothers splayed out on the living room couch, ready to begin filming a funny car video while you’re walking up the stairs with a red, tear covered face.
they both look to you with sadness, and seemingly an understanding of your position, but their mouths remain closed as you quickly put your shoes on and walk out the door.
————————————————————————
it’s been a week.
you wish you could say you were doing amazing, ridding yourself of a toxic boyfriend and focusing on your own mental health but that was… far from the truth.
but instead you’re crying while watching 10 things i hate about you and eating ramen—not exactly the best way to show you’re the bigger person.
it’s pathetic. scrolling on instagram to constantly check what Chris is doing while you simultaneously have unfollowed him.
relationships are not easy, but deep down you know you’re in the right, you just wanted Chris back… before he met another girl.
you don’t know what made his priorities change. maybe that’s what hurt you the most.
what is it that made you unlovable, what is it that rachel did better than you.
no. you know this isn’t about some girl named rachel, you know this all stems from yourself.
the constant comparisons you made to any girl you deemed better than you, the way it never failed to make you feel terrible about the cards you were dealt.
it was hard enough to except the fact that Chris liked you to begin with, and on one of your many late night walks you had told him that, told him that sometimes you’re lack of self confidence can get the best of you.
and for majority of your relationship he was supportive of that, supportive of you.
so once again, what changed? was it him or was it you?
you let out a heavy sigh, stirring your noodles and lifting the fork to your face when you hear a knock on the door.
it takes a second for you to even comprehend the noise, racking your brain trying to figure out what you had ordered online when you were up till two am sobbing.
either way you need to answer, so you make the embarrassing walk to the door while still wrapped in your fuzzy blanket m, as it replaces an embrace you miss.
you make it down the stairs, expecting a package to be delivered at your doorstep, instead you see him.
he’s stood there, a journal in his hand and an insane look of sorry overtaking his blue irises.
“hi” he says simply, moments before you go to slam the door in his face, his hand being the only thing stopping it from latching onto the hinges. “wait, please” he’s fighting back tears of his own, not that you feel bad for him in the slightest.
“what do you want Chris? i have a romantic comedy to attend to since my life kinda lacks one right now” you say with an ounce of pettiness escaping your teeth.
“y/n please” he squeezes the book in his hand, clutching to it like his life depends on it. “can i come in?”
part of you wants to say no, most of you wants to say no, but he’s Chris, your Chris, and you hate seeing him sad regardless of how much he deserves it. “fine make it quick” you mumble, opening the door fully and walking over to plop yourself on the couch, the boy awkwardly following behind you, as if he is literally walking on eggshells.
he sits beside you, not getting to comfortable as your unwelcoming demeanour leaves him anxious next to you. “i uh” he coughs, sniffling his noise and shaking his mess of hair to the side. “i don’t want you to ever think i’d choose someone else over you, ever. because i couldn’t, i-“ he sighs, as you sit there at stare at him, unsure of how to feel. “i can’t imagine being with anyone else because i see a forever with you”
“did you tell this to rachel too?” your mouth speaks before your conscience can stop yourself.
“no obviously not i mean, i don’t even know what i was doing with her, it was dumb and i don’t even have an excuse for it but i never” he breathes. “i never wanted anything with her, it’s always gonna be you”
it’s silent for a second, you processing his words and him praying mentally you’ll give him another chance. “what’s with the book?” you ask, slightly less anger backing your tone as you gesture to the journal placed in his lap.
“are you gonna promise to not make fun of me?” he says, an innocent look plastered on his face, god you missed his face.
“i can’t promise anything but ill try” you say, smiling out of the fake frown you displayed for him.
he scratches his head. “Matt kinda told me to start journaling a while ago and i thought it was stupid but then when i met you i kinda had too many thoughts to keep in my brain and-“
you place a gentle hand on his bouncing knee. “take your time Chris it’s okay”
he could cry at the contact but he continues speaking, slower this time as per your request. “i needed to write down the overwhelming thoughts i was having about you because im so in love with you i can’t keep it to myself” he sighs. “but i want you to have this because it shows how perfect you are. i never want you to feel lesser than anyone else because to me you’re everything, and im sorry i lost track of that”
you could cry at his gesture alone but instead you lean in, closing the space between the two of you and returning to a pair of lips you’ve been craving for the past week.
he kisses back hesitantly, caught off guard by your sudden act of affection.
the rhythm at which your lips move has you in a trance, beginning as an innocent kiss and immediately becoming more passionate when your tongue explores his mouth, your teeth biting gently on his bottom lip as you pull off. “i missed you”
he smiles, the same dorky smile you missed creating on his lips. “can i make it up to you?” he asks, leaving you confused.
“you already did make it up to me” you say, his head dipping down to your neck before you get a chance to keep speaking, a soft whimper leaving your mouth instead. “oh”
he’s comfortable on your neck, his hands immediately taking the blanket off of your shoulders as he moves himself to hover of you, his knees digging into the rug on the floor. “wanna really make it up to you”
it’s hard for you to speak, his hands cupping your clothed chest giving them a light squeeze before you can say another word, his lips now placed softly on your own.
for a while you’re comfortable like this, but you need more—and by the way you squeeze your thighs together on the cushion, Chris can tell.
his fingers go to lift your sweater off, immediately exposing you to him. “you’re so beautiful” he mumbles, his mouth nod focusing on your nipples as you arch your back into the couch—his tongue swirling your bud and his hands rubs soft lines on your legs.
“missed you so much baby” he’s says quietly, his mouth now placing teasing kisses on your exposed stomach, causing you to inhale at the soft sensation.
his hands now tug at your sweats, a familiar set of eyes looking up at you to ask for permission, all you can mutter out is a quick. “please”
“yeah? you miss my mouth?” he says, causing you to roll your eyes before his hands pull down your sweats and your underwear at the same time, one swift motion leaving you on display for the boy below you.
he kisses your thighs while hands hands work to remove the fabric off of your ankles and it’s safe to say you’re getting impatient, your legs spreading above him the moment the fabric is done restricting you.
“aren’t you just needy” he chuckles, his hands traveling up your sides to make contact with your chest once more. “can i take my time?”
you nod, fighting back a moan as you feel his hot breath over your folds, teasing his entrance.
but instead of giving you what you’re practically begging for he take his hands and props your legs on the couch. “god i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this”
“then get to it” you joke, only receiving a delicate kiss to your inner thigh as a response.
your own hands immediately make their way to his hair, pushing away the strands that cover his face so you can see more of him.
he makes eye contact with you, kissing everywhere on your lower half expect where you’re aching for him. “chris i need-“
there it is.
he kisses your clit, eyes making contact with your own that you could melt under, his innocent gaze as he makes you feel everything but innocent.
it’s unfortunate how much he loves teasing you, especially with make up sex, because his tongue has yet to make contact with you.
“so prefect, just for me” he continues mumbling praises as his hands roam your body.
before you can argue you’re cut off by the contact you were craving, his tongue immediately encapsulating your clit into his mouth and twirling it in slow, sensual circles.
your knees threaten to cave in at the contact but his hands are quick to push them back out as he leaves open mouthed kisses on yourself as you squirm above him.
soon enough the muscle finds a rhythm to follow, flicking up and down at a more intense pace than before. “fuck Chris, so good” you moan out.
your eyes shut almost immediately, the feeling of his warm tongue causing an embarrassingly fast build up in your stomach. “mmm just like that”
you can feel his smile below you, but his tongue doesn’t let up, instead, he places a familiar finger in your soaked centre.
instinctively you arch into him, your body chasing the pleasure that is consistently building throughout your body.
the pace at which he’s moving is addicting, and with the addition of another finger curling into you, you’re a moaning mess.
the tips of his fingers reaching deep inside of you along with the pressure and speed at which is tongue glides on your clit is overwhelming. “baby im” you whimper again. “so close just for you”
that sentence alone was enough to have him speed up, increasing the intensity of his fingers and his tongue.
your hips rut into his face, his one hand still pushing your knee to keep you spread for him.
he doesn’t let out once, your mouth left in an o shape as the pleasure overtakes you, your stomach tensing into his touch as you release onto his fingers.
he pulls his fingers out, his mouth meeting your neck while the pads of his fingers rub your wet clit at a speed that has you dizzy, your legs shutting over his hand as he rocks you through your orgasam. “just like that there you go pretty girl, just for me” he mumbles, mindlessly sucking on your bare neck.
his hands stop when your own arms clutch onto him, signalling the sensitive became too much. “i love you so much and i’m so fucking sorry” you’re too out of breath to reply. “let’s get you cleaned up baby i wanna take you on a date”
a/n: i wrote this so fast bc i gotta go to work and i didn’t proofread (are we surprised) but yeah ily bye
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