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lavendermunson · 8 months

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dancing with our hands tied — eddie munson

୨ৎ ˙ ˖

summary Eddie seems to live in constant hell except when he is with you.

tags +18. eventual smut. friends to best friends to lovers. angst. pining. no upside down. slight chrissy x eddie and jealous reader. fingering. p in v without protection; be smart irl. no use of y/n, eddie calls reader peach. lose of virginity.

tw eddie has an older brother who punches him. slight mentions of blood and violence. alcohol. mention of drugs. if i forgot anything lmk!

w.c 7.6 k

a/n hey people! it’s the first time i write something like this. the fic is divided in tiny chapters that are titled by the lines of taylor’s song (see title) i hope it’s easy to understand and let me know if you like the format ♡ enjoy!

I. First sight, we love without reason.

It came to you as a surprise, really. The moment he sat down on the nearest seat to start the tutoring lesson. The secret is Eddie has always been good at English, it’s a thing among others that he kept as a secret. You weren’t sure why he would hide it, even lie about it.

You and Eddie became friends easily. But you wish the relationship had more meaning, you weren’t friends just school friends. The worst kind of friend you could be with someone as cool and pretty as Eddie.

One day, in the early morning of a cloudy Thursday Eddie attended school with a black eye. He rushed past you mumbling a kind Hey and going his way. You said hi back but it was too late, he was gone.

You missed him the rest of the day, he didn’t show up to class. His friends were alone at lunch. There was no sign of Eddie until later, tutoring sessions.

He slumps on the chair next to you, taking a deep breath and scratching his scalp nervously. His hands were shaking as he started to scribble on your textbook.

Your mind wasn’t focused on the textbook once, you looked longingly at the maroon-tinted bruise on his eye. A cut, maybe 12 hours old, rested on the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting” you whispered “I can’t keep my eyes off…your… are you okay, Eddie?” you pointed your finger at his eye, and he turned his head to look at you.

“Yeah, no don’t worry” he sighs, shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair and taking a deep look at your face.

Your mouth has formed a pout and your brows are furrowed, Eddie tried to read your mind and he succeeded. You were worried.

“My stupid older brother, he comes in unexpectedly, and when I tried to kick him out of the trailer he punched me”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Eddie” You lean your head to the side, his face looks better from this angle.

He looks tired, the punch looks like it hurts a lot, more if it came from a person of his own bloodline.

“You know what, we can study another time and you can go rest” Your hands are quick to close the textbook, gathering all your stuff as Eddie’s body comes closer to you.

He takes your wrist on his hand, with a little more pressure than intended. When your mouth leans to the side he realizes he is hurting you (not too much, but still he didn’t mean it).

“No, I'm sorry” he drops your hand on your lap, delicately “We can study, I'm fine. Please I need the money”

“I know, I will pay you. But I can’t sit here and I can't focus knowing you are in pain or your mind is somewhere else” You smile at him, and he nods.

“Thanks…I'm having a really bad day. I cannot thank you enough, tomorrow we can study double I promise”

“Don’t worry, I got you” You head out of the library beside him “Take care of that, it looks like it’s going to stay there for a while”

He giggles at your comment, you are not sure why. You pay him for today and he smiles at you.

“Thank you, Peach”

He didn’t talk about his family much, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was something interesting to talk about. His mom left a few years ago, along with his older brother, leaving little Eddie and Uncle Wayne alone.

You knew Wayne from one of Eddie’s stories he told you about. He loves the man like he is his own father, but he is in a lot of debt with him.

Wayne takes care of Eddie as if he’s his own child. He surely loves Eddie like that. He works most of the day and night leaving his nephew alone in the trailer park.

One of those cold and lonely nights Eddie’s brother came to visit him at the trailer park only seeking some money. He was out of luck, and so was Eddie, when his furious brother came in and punched him in the face. Not once, but twice.

Eddie’s head and face hurt the rest of the night. He unfortunately overslept and didn’t get a chance to start school properly so he chose to show up just to the tutoring sessions. He needed the cash, you needed help.

II. Picture of your face in an invisible locket.

A week has passed since Eddie’s brother came to town. You’ve grown closer to Eddie than before.

You hang out after school now that tutoring lessons are over, he invites you to Hellfire Club to watch the campaigns and you sit there watching the whole thing unravel. He had a great imagination, and a wonderful mind full of creative stories and riddles. The kids enjoy his company as much as you do.

He talked about his problems at home with you, trying to get the ugly feeling out of his chest. You listened to him buying him a cup of ice cream and enjoying the wonderful summer breeze.

“I enjoy being with you,” he said “You are a great friend, Peach”

You smiled at him. He smiled at you. His dimples showed up for the first time since you’ve known him, a simple gesture that knocked some sense on you, you had a crush on him.

“Me too, Eds”

Your relationship with Eddie has evolved, not only do you have pet names for each other but it seems like you are best friends. It’s been some weeks since the first time he offered to tutor you and you accepted immediately.

You’ve always liked Eddie, he is his true self every time and he is proud of it.

You admire it.

People at school used to call him awful names, it was always like that until he met Chrissy. The popular kids are the ones that make more fun of him as if it wasn’t exhausting for them to be assholes and jerks nine hours a day. They have toned their jokes down knowing that the queen of Hawkins has a soft place for Eddie and he is more than happy hanging out with her sometimes.

That made your heart ache, it was a dreadful feeling.

After spending some time with Eddie you went home. Still under that lavender haze of accepting that you had a crush on him for a while. It was embarrassing to you only because you were so, so obsessed with him.

His face. His hands. His scent. His hair. Realizing everything about him made you crazy was scary, he only had eyes for one person who was the most perfect cheerleader in the history of high school.

To distract your mind from all the lousy thoughts you took a shower, it was quick, you needed to brush off the sweat and release some tension with a thorough massage on your scalp. The lavender shampoo lingered in the air, relaxing every inch of your body.

After the shower, it was time to eat some dinner. Instead of making a complicated meal you decided to heat some leftovers from yesterday and enjoy your evening eating and dancing in the kitchen with some of your old records playing upbeat songs to cheer you up.

A knock on your door makes you jump after finishing dinner. No one used to come by at this hour, not when your dad was out of town.

You get close to the door and look through the peephole to see who’s interrupting your godly moment. It was Eddie.

A gasp falls out of your mouth and you open the door as quickly as possible. You meet Eddie’s trembling body standing in front of you, his lip is bleeding and his eyes are watering.

“God, Eds…” you whisper, he leans closer to you, wrapping his hands around your neck and hugging you.

You didn’t say anything else, just mirrored his movements and wrapped his waist with your arms. Taking a few steps back and leading him in, you close the door with your foot and he stands there, still not letting you go.

You rub his back as he tries to ease his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to go so I-” he takes a step back breaking contact with you, his head falls as his eyes look at his feet.

“He, he did this to you again?” he broke contact so fast you decided to stay in your place, careful not to overwhelm him with unwanted touches.

“Yeah, shit shit, sorry I should've called. My mind sort of blacked out and the only thing I could remember was your street and the color of your house, the one with the weird birdhouse…”

“Eds, it’s okay” you interrupt “Let me help you, alright? let me clean your wound and make you some hot chocolate”

He nods, walking with you to the bathroom and past your bedroom. You are quick to find the first aid kit, taking some rubbing alcohol and gauze to clean Eddie’s cut. He hisses at the stingy feeling in his mouth, you apologize and he encourages you to continue.

And there you are, with the boy that you like so much. He leans on the counter closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel at peace with you around him.

You stand between his legs, his inner thighs rubbing the exposed skin of your thighs. The ungodly thoughts need to go away so you blink pretty fast, focusing, it’s not the moment nor the place nor the person.

You finish up cleaning his wound and placing a band aid over it to avoid any sort of discomfort while it heals.

“It’s ready” Eddie opens his eyes, finding you in front of him. So close. The white light in the bathroom makes you look like an angel.

“Thank you, peach” he squeezes your cheek slightly. Neither of you move from where you stand, so close to each other but so far at the same time.

“It’s nothing, let’s make you some chocolate”

“Wait, I'm not really hungry. I need to clear my mind and feel at peace for a bit, ‘m just gonna go back to my place to rest but again… thank you” he stands up straight and you step back, missing the heat of his body.

“No! you can’t go back, it's dangerous. My dad is out of town, you can stay here”

His head leans down to one side, he looks at you concerned.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for my best friend” you say. It’s the first time you call him like that. It’s the first time anybody has called him like that.

“Thank you, again, thank you”

“No problem, let me get you some fresh clothes”

You get Eddie some of your oversized clothes that only get out of your closet on rainy days. You give him some space to change and freshen up in the bathroom, getting him a new toothbrush and a towel so he can wash his face.

When he gets out you offer him the guest room, he immediately denies it and asks if he can sleep with you. You shake your head and show him a gentle smile.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or bother you” he asks while you get the bed ready to sleep.

“It’s okay, Eds. I get that you don’t want to be alone, do not worry”

You get in bed, he drops his body beside you. Both of you rest your head on the pillows while looking at the ceiling.

“You can stay here in the morning if you don’t want to go to school, I do have to go and hand in this paper I’ve been working on”

“Thank you, I owe you one,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and letting out a sigh.

“You don’t, I’m happy to help you” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, Eds”

“Goodnight, sweetheart”

The pet name falls from his lips so beautifully.

You close your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, aware that the heat of your cheeks is present leaving a pink tint.

You are thankful it’s dark and Eddie is about to fall asleep so he won’t notice.

When you fall asleep Eddie does too. It takes him a couple of seconds to get into a deep sleep, he hasn’t slept like this in weeks, all thanks to the torture of his stupid brother and the constant thought of him coming back to punch him.

He feels safe around you and he is more than grateful to be your friend.

III. ‘Cause it’s gravity, keeping you with me.

Eddie has been staying over at your house multiple times, Your dad is out of town and you appreciate the company, his company. Sometimes he comes with you right after school, other times after he hangs out with Chrissy. You are not sure of what kind of relationship they have but it still hurts your heart every time he laughs at something she says.

You are thankful for having him over. The nights consist of movies, old tv shows, watching the commercials on the tv, and listing in your head what to buy next for these reunions.

The last slice of pizza remains in the box, it should be cold and washy but

Eddie is fine with it. He watches you from the corner of his eye, your gaze glued to him.

“Sorry, did you want the last slice?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts into reality.

“Huh? No, no you have it”

“Sure?”

“I hate it when the pizza is cold” Your mouth falls to the side, and you look at the slice with disgust.

“Bummer, I’ll have this baby for myself”

He raises his hand with the slice between his fingers, his head falls to the back and he takes a bite of the tip of the slice. You watch him in awe, not really thinking about how weird it is to watch Eddie eat, but your eyes can never leave his face. His mouth opens and his jaw tightens when he takes a bite, and another, and another until he finishes it.

“Don’t know why you pushed this aside, it was so good”

The corner of his mouth is full of tomato sauce and cheese grease, you laugh at him shaking your head.

“You have something… there” you point with your finger, Eddie furrows his brows and leans his head to the side looking like a confused puppy.

“Where? Here?” He wipes his mouth and smiles victorious, although it is the opposite side.

“No, here”

You get closer to him. His body is fully turned to the left so you sit in front of him kneeling.

He watches you getting close, he takes a deep breath as his Adam’s apple bobs as a result of his own nerves. You are too close, you’ve never been this close –just once when he hugged you – not even when you two are sleeping in your bed.

As you take the napkin to clean his face you get the opportunity to get closer, you wipe his mouth slowly and pinch his chin between your fingers. You breathe and he is mixing up, the room feels suddenly too hot.

Eddie wants to give in, he gets his head closer. He doesn't care about anything, just you. The only source of light is the TV which gives a shadow of multiple colors on your face, it’s adorable. Your body, your naked thighs, your pretty face so close. He is about to kiss you until you speak.

Shit.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot”

“How do you punch someone?” you ask, he shakes his head confused shaking off the thoughts he had earlier. He was so close to kissing you, but he couldn’t. You are his best friend.

“Wow,” Eddie laughs, grinning “Who do you want to punch, exactly?”

“I met someone”

Your news hit Eddie in the chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this but he is… jealous?

“He told me to go to this party with him… and a friend told me I should be prepared for everything”

“Everything? Like if he wants to get in your pants you’d punch him?”

“Only if he is a real jerk and thinks he is too smart”

Eddie nods, he takes your hands in his standing up from the couch. You follow him.

“Alright, pay attention”

He drops one of your hands and takes your dominant hand in his, the cold rings on his fingers keep you from falling apart from his touch.

“The secret is in your hips and shoulders, that’s where the power comes from okay?”

“Yeah, but please don’t teach me how to kill someone. I just want to throw a little punch if needed”

“I know, peach” he laughs “Stand up like this” His stance looks professional, maybe he has done this before. Maybe to protect himself from his older brother.

“First things first, your stance gives you balance so you don’t fall to the floor and break your nose too y’know?”

“Am I going to break his nose?” you ask, a little scared of what you are getting yourself into.

“No! ‘M just saying. You don’t have a lot of strength to do that, don’t worry”

“Like this?” You mimic his stance, feeling a little awkward.

"Exactly. Now, focus on your fist” He hasn’t dropped your hand yet “Curl your fingers in, and tuck your thumb under them. This way, you won't hurt your hand when you punch”

“Why do I feel like I shouldn't be learning this?”

“You are fine, watch” Your hands form a perfect fist, Eddie holds it in his hands and tries to set you up on the perfect stance. Your knuckles turn a bit white as you focus on the lesson “See? Perfect”

“I got it”

"Now punch me,” he says, he is serious.

“What?”

“C’mon I’ve taken the worst punches, bet yours will feel light as a feather” he grins. Inside he feels dumb for aching your touch so much even if it means taking a hit “Twist your body and extend your arm in a straight line, then go straight to my cheek” his fingertip touches his cheek “Not my nose! Please” he remarks, but at the same time he is encouraging you.

“Alright,” you do as he says, swinging your arm back and forth. Your fist comes into contact with his cheek and he groans in pain, his head falls to one side.

“Jesus H. Christ!” he caresses his cheek with the palm of his hand “I underestimated you” A chuckle falls from his lips, and you are covering your mouth with your hands surprised. Your eyes are glassy.

“No, no don’t cry I’m fine”

“I’m so sorry Eddie. I thought- fuck, I didn’t see that coming! I am so fucking-sorry, sorry” you cry, your cheeks glow red as embarrassment washes over you.

“No, don’t” he is still laughing “Oh god, come here”

Eddie opens his arms and wraps them around your shoulders. This is the second time you hug him, and this time it feels different. One of his hands rubs your back to calm you down as you keep murmuring sorry. He keeps thinking you are the most adorable thing on the planet.

“Do we count this as tutoring? Am I getting cash for getting punched in the face?” he chuckles.

You bury your face in his chest, hugging his body tightly. He feels you trying to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah if you want”

“I'm joking, peach, you did good!”

You smile at the praise, although he can’t see it.

“Thank you for teaching me”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It was a pleasure” he breaks the hug, and his hands come to rest on your arms. He is not giving up touching you “I hope whoever you punch… you do it harder than this one” he smiles.

As you watch his face, hypnotized, you smile back.

“I will, only if he is a jerk…”

“Or thinks he is too smart, gotcha” he interrupts, filling up the rest of the sentence “But you know if someone bothers you, you can call me and I will kick his ass right?”

“I’m a big girl, Eds. I can take care of myself”

“That I see! ‘M just offering, You did good honey” He pinches your cheek, and the new pet name hits right above your stomach where your anxiety rests. He has never called you that before, you feel the heat on your cheeks.

“We- uhm, we should sleep is getting late” You watch the clock, it is 3 am already.

“Oh shit, yeah. Let’s go”

IV. I’m a mess but i’m the mess that you wanted.

Watching Eddie kissing Chrissy was a punch on the tits. His hands are on her waist, she grabs his jacket getting closer. Their mouths were glued to each other. You were sure this was the night, this was the night you would tell Eddie your feelings, but instead, you decided to meet up with the guy you told him about. Ignoring your feelings for Eddie.

Nothing ever comes out as you wish, after punching the guy for trying to touch your ass after he didn’t even know you were in his math class, you punched him. Your hand hurts, but it was worth it.

You try to find Eddie but he isn’t around. Ignoring the feeling in your chest, you decide to fill the guilt and the secrets with alcohol.

After a lot of refills, the living room’s bottles are empty so you make your way around the house to find more. That’s when you find Eddie, you take your sixth? seventh? Cup of the night and walk to him.

“Eds!”

Your voice is like honey to him, he didn’t want to be here but as soon as Chrissy mentioned you were coming with “the guy” he wanted to be there. She was nowhere to be seen after spending some time with him.

“I did it! I punched him!” you mumble, proud of your achievement and so, so drunk.

“Fuck, I missed it?”

“Yeah, I have been looking for you everywhere to tell you” You lie, you’ve seen him multiple times and ignored him. It was a decision that sober you took. Drunk you is a little more insistent “I didn't think you were coming”

“Chrissy wanted to be here, I'm just keeping her company… was, she left” he looks around, but she is still somewhere else.

Her name rings in your ears, your stomach crumbles.

“Well, let’s get drunk!”

Deep down Eddie is grateful that the guy you were meeting up with fucked up everything and now you are with him. Chrissy is nowhere to be seen and you seem like you need someone to watch you. Take care of yourself.

You are so drunk, your whole body feels light and your head is in the clouds. Maybe you are a little bit high too.

“Can we find somewhere more quiet? I wanna smoke” Eddie finds himself screaming, the music getting louder with the minutes.

“Sure, let’s go”

You hold a red solo cup with something in it, enough to make you more tipsy. You follow Eddie outside, to the porch. The night is hot and Eddie realizes your dress is too short. He takes a deep breath, looking at your thighs as you take a sip from the cup.

Eddie lights a cigarette and takes a peek at the party from outside, The window leaves a space so the warm light of the house hits your face. The night at your house, the one when he almost kisses you comes back to his head. A side of your face lit up by the chaos inside, yet you look so peaceful, so beautiful.

“I need more of this. I- shit I forgot the n-name” you slur your words again, taking a step forward. Eddie takes your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“What the fuuuuck?” you say.

“I think that’s enough for today, let’s go home”

Your whole body is on fire, all of your insides begging for more alcohol.

“Home? What? I didn’t know we lived together!”

“C’mon, peach. You know what I mean” Eddie’s cigarette bounces on his mouth, his voice is firm and his free hand comes to cup your waist.

“No, no. Let’s go dance here” You take his hand, the alcohol makes you bold. He follows you to the living room after dropping his cigarette.

The music is too loud, you empty the cup you had and throw it away.

“I’ll be right back, need to take a piss'” Eddie says, disappearing. You don’t hear him.

His “girlfriend” is still ignoring him, but he remembers what she said. She got mad because he was looking for you, and she got jealous too. Chrissy wanted all the attention but Eddie was giving it to you.

He stopped eating lunch with her, he was with you instead. Talking about random tv commercials that you thought were clever, it was some of an inside joke.

As he comes back from the bathroom he hears a crowd cheering, he is so done with this party, tired of the happy sappy music playing over and over, and the smell of sweat and alcohol makes him sick. He makes an effort to find you and he does.

There you are, standing on the table dancing. You were dancing, making some sexual moves that all the guys were screaming. Your hips move as the music gets to your ears, the whole room electrified by this little show.

Eddie’s face goes beet red, he can’t take this. He isn’t enjoying this.

Jealousy takes over him and he grabs your hand, yanking you down and letting you fall on his shoulder.

He carries you away from the table, a hand comes behind your back and he places his palm on your ass in an attempt to stop your dress from going up. You feel the cold of his rings again, your whole body lights up in anger as he carries you outside.

“Let me down! Eddie, I'm not joking!”

“Whine for as long as you want, I’m taking you home”

“Eddie please, I'm going to throw up”

He gives up, he lets you down and you pick up your breath. You place a hand on your belly trying to steady yourself and make the nausea go away.

“I need a moment… just give me a–”

“No! I know you will go back inside. You can’t even walk by yourself”

“Yes, I can! Don’t- don’t try to babysit me” you bicker.

He lets out a deep sigh, he is not letting you go back and you know it.

He wants to protect you, but more, he wants you to be with him and not dancing and showing off for anybody else. Yes, he was jealous and it was time to admit it. His feelings for Chrissy were never as intense as what he feels when he is with you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that!” you scream, his eyes open wide.

“Please just-”

He tries to hug you but you don’t let him.

“I'm not your sweetheart! The other day you called me like that too and I- what are you doing to me?”

“I don’t- fuck, what are you talking about?” Eddie is confused, you are acting like you don’t want him around, and that hurts him.

“I- I like you, Eddie! I fucking like you so bad but you… You don’t and I know it!” you have no time to breathe, the alcohol encourages you to confess your feelings.

“Peach-”

“No! No, I- I like you since that first day of tutoring… I’ve liked you since then and you don’t know how fucking hard it is to oh- sleep with you and you- almost fucking kissed me and I panicked. This, you, her- it’s too much ah- go away!” you cry out, your head is spinning and you can feel your temples aching.

This wasn’t planned, future you will kill you for this. But right now in the heat of the moment, you let Eddie know how you feel. Your whole body aches and your heart is shattered.

“I know you like her! Just- I don't want to talk to you right now!”

A salty taste lingers in your mouth, your tears. Your arms ache from the sudden cold breeze as the night gets darker. It’s maybe two or three in the morning. You are drunk and high. Eddie’s brain seems to stop working.

He is quiet, looking at the grass under his feet. It hurts seeing you like this.

“Fuck!” you turn around and start walking, thinking you can walk home from here knowing it’s impossible.

“Hey! Let me take you home”

You stop.

“Please, I won't stay. I’ll drop you off and go to my trailer- you can’t get home by yourself” he is right.

You don’t move. Too heartbroken to say everything else or even turn around to see him. You are ashamed, he can’t even look you in the eyes.

He sees you waiting for him and he asks you to follow him to his van.

The ride home is long and torturous. He didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you don’t blame him. Who could fall for a mess like you?

You fall asleep in the passenger seat of his van, he opens the door carefully and carries you to your bed. He wants to change your clothes but he knows it is not okay, he does peek at your naked thighs before covering your body with the sheets.

His calloused fingers move the hair off your face “I like you too, peach” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. You can’t hear him of course, he knows it damn well.

V. Deep fears that the world would divide us.

The last time you talked to Eddie was two weeks ago. He didn’t know how to talk to you since that night, he didn’t know what to tell you. It is now summer break, you are in your bed facing the ceiling and letting the air from your window hit your sweaty body.

You were so bored. Without Eddie it feels like the world just turned gray, you regret everything you said that night. He never should’ve known.

He is now in his trailer, maybe with Chrissy. Your brain starts to think of a hundred scenarios. They could be spending time at the local pool, going to starcourt and eating ice cream, trying on some new clothes, or playing at the arcade.

You miss him. Your whole body aches without him by your side. Your bed feels so empty.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, you are all alone in this gigantic house. It doesn’t feel like home, not without him.

You can’t pick a book and read it to kill time because every book you own is about romance.

You can’t watch movies without Eddie’s sudden comments.

You can’t even watch fucking commercials without him.

So you just let yourself on your bed, waiting for the sheets to swallow you whole.

Night came by after a nap, it was time to close the windows to stop the mosquitoes. It was time to eat so you headed down to the kitchen, the leftovers seem to always keep you company.

You wish he came back. Knocking at your door and getting in. Kissing you.

It doesn’t happen. To you. But it can happen to him.

You take your keys in your hands and head down to the trailer park, it isn’t that late so you go by yourself. With your clammy hands tapping on the steering wheel and a feeling of uncertainty.

It takes you from ten to fifteen minutes to get there and you park your car close to Eddie’s trailer. You’ve given him a ride home before, you know where he lives.

As you get closer to his trailer you hear screams. The door of his trailer opens suddenly and makes you jump. A tall and slightly old man comes out of the trailer, his white tank top is covered with some blood.

No, no, no. You mumble under your breath and run to the trailer. You find Eddie with a cut on his lip, his eye is purple already and his nose is bleeding.

“Eddie?” you whisper, he panics.

“No, no you can’t be here” he gets up from the floor and places his hands on your arms, pushing you out.

“Why? Please I just want to talk”

“You can’t be here! He- if he does something to you I’m never going to forgive myself Please just leave” his breath quickens, and his chest rises up and down. He is nervous, he is scared. The feelings are contagious.

“Come with me, please. Eds-”

“Just fucking leave! please please please, leave right now”

Nothing you do is going to convince him you should stay, as much as you want to. You hear screams of an angry man getting close to the trailer.

Running out back to your car and driving home, the radio becomes an annoying background noise screeching. Your heart is beating so fast out of fear, and your hands are trembling.

You set yourself down on your bed once you get home. You are scared of what could happen to Eddie. You know he is in danger and you also know he doesn’t want to see you.

The tears come back, your eyes are blurry and the walls feel like they are closing in and are about to crush you. You cover yourself with the sheets, as some type of protection, just like when you were little and scared. Yes, you are scared now, so fucking scared. But there is nothing you can do now so you sleep, and you fall asleep crying, again.

VI. I'd kiss you as the lights went out.

The next day goes by quickly, it’s currently midnight and you are sitting in front of the tv watching a random documentary about dolphins. You’ve slept all day so sleep is not an option. A huge bucket of ice cream in your hands gives you a cold feeling of serenity.

A knock on the door makes you jump, the thing you’ve been waiting for.

You open it quickly, and Eddie is there. You look at him with sadness in your eyes, some of his wounds have healed since yesterday.

“Before you say anything… I am sorry, sweetheart” You don’t let him in, and he doesn’t take a step forward “I like you too. I like you so much. I tried to date Chrissy because I thought I could get my mind distracted by the fact that I'm crazy for you. "He licks his lips, he moves his hands in the air as he always does when he explains something or rambles about a thing he loves.

“I was scared to tell you, that night at the party I swear all I could think about was- fuck, I wanted to rip those clothes off of you and kiss every part of your body but I was fucking terrified” his chest rises up and down, his heart is bumping in his ribcage. “I didn’t want to say anything because

I didn’t want to lose you, You are too good to me and I didn’t want you to be with someone like me-”

“You don’t get to make that choice for me” you interrupt, your own heart is beating so fast it could burst.

“I know, I know. That’s why I'm here… is it too late to hang out? Look, I slept all day and some little bird named Steve told me the sunrise at Lovers Lake looks awesome and I really just want to be with you”

You look at him, he is standing at your door confessing his love to you and, weirdly, it doesn’t feel like a dream. It all feels too real, too peaceful.

“A date at midnight? Did you plan this because you look like you even showered”

He lets out a big laugh. You see those dimples you love so much.

“I- I wouldn’t see it as a date because I think we’ve had tons of them” he shakes his head, and his curls bounce with the movement. “Pretty please? Join me on this adventure”

“We must be connected by some kind of thread because I slept all day too” you chuckle, he laughs with you “Sure, I want to be with you. Let me change and I’ll be right back”

You head upstairs quickly as Eddie goes back to his van for something.

With the quickest movements in the world, you manage to get yourself some pretty clothes, a tiny bit of makeup and fix your hair.

Running to the first floor to meet Eddie, your legs stop working as he stands up in your living room with a bouquet.

“You did have this prepared” You are smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt, but you can stop it. After days of missing him, he is now here and everything feels right.

“I did. You look- you look beautiful” he looks at you from the bottom to the top, taking every detail of your figure. “I mean, you always look so beautiful I just-”

You come closer to him, he hands you the bouquet and you take it.

“You are beautiful too, Eds”

Your fingers touch his cheeks, he feels the warmth and breathes in to take everything in. Your scent, your touch, the closeness. Your cheeks have a pink tint from blushing and it makes you look so pretty. He leans in and in a second, his lips are touching yours.

You gasp at the sudden feeling, your whole body electrifies. His hands come to rest on your lower back, keeping you close to him. Your hands travel to his shoulders as you stand on your tippy toes.

His lips trap your bottom lip, sucking in your taste. Your whole heart flutters as your head goes back to catch some air.

“I wanted to do that for so long”

Goosebumps travel from your arms to your lips, missing him already.

“Me too” you bite your lip.

“C’mon, let’s go watch the sunrise sweetheart”

VII. Deep blue but you painted me golden.

The trip to Lovers Lake in the middle of the night resulted in love confessions and a heavy make out session, Eddie packed the back of his van with christmas lights, sheets, and blankets along with some pillows.

You and Eddie sitting in front of each other, his lips crashing into yours as sweet as honey.

“So yeah- that time when you sat down and started tutoring me I fought so hard to pay attention but I just loved the sound of your voice” You take a sip of beer.

“It was hard to teach you when your confused face is just so adorable.

Every pout you gave me was a kiss I wanted to give you” Eddie laughs.

“You can give me all the kisses you want now, I'm all yours”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his face glows pink and you let out a chuckle.

“Honey, I will” he takes a sip from his own beer, finishing it.

Alcohol makes both of you giddy, dozy, and dumb. Or maybe it’s just the love you have for each other.

“What time is it?” you murmur against his lips, his hands travel from your waist to the back of your head.

“I have- no idea” he stops, with his head leaned slightly back he watches you. Your lips are puffy and pink, his too. Both of you have a maroon tint on your cheeks. “It’s almost six, we have time” he peeks at the clock on his left hand.

“Alright, c’mere” With your hands placed on his shoulders, you try to get closer to him.

You kiss him. He is addicted to your taste already.

This time the kiss is messy and uncoordinated. His teeth collide with yours, saliva drops from the corner of your mouth.

With a firm hand caressing your back, Eddie helps you fall back with your body pressed against the sheets. Your head rests on a pillow as he gets comfortable on top of you.

You can feel the van getting hotter, a cloud of passion and love around you. Eddie makes a quick move with his knee as it presses against your hot core.

Absent-mindedly you start to grind against his knee, feeling the combination of friction with his sloppy kisses sending chills through your spine.

His lips now travel all the way to your neck, he presses sweet wet kisses against your skin.

“Eddie-” you whisper, letting the air out of your lungs. “I want you”

You have been dreaming about this, he has been dreaming about this.

This moment. This very golden moment is going to live in your head forever.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his lips tingling your skin.

“I’m sure, please”

He takes a break from the kisses, looking at your sweet face.

“Have you ever…?” he asks.

“No,” you bite your lip nervously.

“I’ll take care of you, I promise”

You nod, and he returns to kissing your neck. One of his hands travels to your thighs, he gives a slight massage on them making his way closer to the heat between your legs.

His cock gets hard against his pants as he feels the wet spot between your legs.

“You are so soaking wet, peach-”

With both hands, he takes off your panties, gently. He is so gentle with you.

“And so, so pretty”

Eddie starts to rub your clit with his thumb, his circular motions make your toes curl. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. With his mouth pressed against your jaw two of his fingers get inside you slowly, the pain of it quickly goes away and turns into lust. His fingers move in and out, making sure not to hurt you and make you feel good.

Your back curls and your thigh touches the bulge on his pants.

“Eds, please”

“What do you want, princess? Say it”

“I want you to fuck me”

Your voice makes his heart flutter. He leans in to kiss you more as he curls your fingers inside you.

“Oh god, Ed-Eddie” you mewl, your head too giddy to make up words.

“Good girl” his voice is now deeper, and his pupils dilate as his body perks up with electricity.

His fingers leave your pussy, you whine and he tells you not to worry.

He is gentle on taking your clothes off, smiling after admiring every inch of you. He wets his lips with his tongue admiring your figure.

“You are so fucking beautiful, princess”

“You too, baby”

The mood has clearly changed, you are still so horny and whining for each other. But Eddie has decided to take his time to make you feel like the princess you are.

Your hands help him take his clothes off, you admire his bare chest and your eyes focus on his tattoos. When he takes his pants and boxers off it is inevitable for you to take a look.

Your mouth waters at the sight. Eddie caresses your cheek and leaves small kisses on your lips as he goes inside you. You feel his hot cock

inside you, it twitches as you stretch and leave out a louder moan.

A grin shows up on Eddie’s face as he thrusts into you. Your nails scratch his back slightly. He feels his skin burn.

“Feeling good?”

“Yes, god yes”

He groans at the same time he increases the speed. Your moans get louder and he kisses your neck again, his bare chest meets yours and you whimper. He is moving on top of you, his cock inside you, and his chest rubs your nipples.

The tiny knot in your stomach untangles as chills go down your spine. You moan as your orgasm comes to you.

“You are such a good girl, go on cum for me”

His words are sweet, he keeps praising you as you finally come.

“So so good baby, I’m going to-”

He moves back but your hands are quick to tangle around his neck, not letting him leave.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over me”

Your encouraging words get into Eddie’s head, his thrust becomes sloppier as he relaxes and he comes into you as requested.

The hot sticky combination of cum slides down your legs as Eddie hugs you and pulls you to him to the side. His back is now pressed against the dirty sheets, your head falls in his chest.

He kisses your forehead and runs his hand through your back.

The sun starts to show up.

Eddie leans forward to open the back doors of his van, he comes back to his place next to you as quickly as possible and hugs you harder.

The lake glows with a yellow tint, the water now shows a baby blue color.

“I love you, sweetheart”

Surprised you turn your head to look at him, you give him a big smile.

“I love you too”

You stay there a couple of minutes, touching each other and loving each other.

there it is! my little baby. feedback is appreciated REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! and DON’T throw a punch like it has been described!!!

tagging everyone who interacted, tysm 💕

@ali-r3n @witchwolflea @ghostlyfleur @littlegingerbat @live-love-be-unique @expiredcum21 @emma77645 @silent-stories @hellfirenacht @eddiemunson95 @tenthmoon

#leia writes ⊹ ꒱#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x f!oc #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x best friend

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cheesit-notes · 9 months

Text

Abuse of Power

in which Captain Price goes on a fucking power trip over his new recruit, you ♡

tags: MDNI!, power abuse, bdsm, bondage sorta, gags, whips, spanking?, reader giving blowjob as punishment, cum on face, basically Price being a big bully because he has the power to do so

a/n: slight changes to wording, wanna change more but dk what to add you know? hope you guys enjoy this ^^ i don't think reader's gender or any genital body part is specified but i had fem!reader in mind when writing (so watch out for that, pls tell me if there's any)

you're just a rookie and have so much to learn, it must be soo stressful, yes? don't worry because Captain Price here will guide you all the way. he's your very reliable captain, so trust him won't you?

all those tasks that only you seem to get? the ones that somehow end up with you on his lap or in some odd position that could easily be misinterpreted? don’t worry about it, just listen to him! remember to call him captain or sir when talking to him, he is your superior. he’s teaching you the ropes ‘cause he’s sooo kind. you’ll need what you’ve learned with him later on ;>

monday mornings are now spent on your knees in front of him. you're tied up, hands behind your back, gagged and you have to show him you can break free. oh but the ropes are too thick.. and you can't move... and oww they dig into your skin. it hurts! too bad, Captain Price isn't going to stop practicing this with you until you manage to break free. and even then, more practice doesn’t hurt.

thursday evenings have you half naked, bent over his desk as he whips you. gosh.. you really need to build your pain tolerance, you're a crying, whimpering mess on his desk! how will you handle yourself in case some awful person tortured you for information? Captain Price realizes you need a lot of training, so why don't you come on saturdays too?

oh be careful, don't let your tears spill on the documents... geez, you really had to get the papers soaked, didn't you. guess you need a punishment.

you know how he's always palming himself during your training? well now your punishment is helping him out with that. on your knees, half naked, hands tied behind your back, ropes digging into your skin, and guess what? you're going to stay this way until he says so.

he sits in front of your kneeling body on his office chair. his cock growing harder as he lazily strokes himself. his thumb pressed on your lips telling you to open your mouth, his hand holding the side of your head. he guides you closer until the tip of his cock is touching your lower lip.

Captain Price starts slow, he's pretty lenient about your punishment, at first. but god, he's getting more and more frustrated. you are not doing it correctly. the only thing happening is his cock slipping in and out of your mouth. god, you really are dumb. well, that means he just has to teach you, so listen up. he barks out orders between groans; "suck it, rookie. just fucking- ugh, don't use your teeth" but you're a little slow on understanding his verbal orders so he has to start getting physical.

a hand on the back of your head pushing you to take his cock deeper and deeper, until your nose is in his pubic hair. you're gagging and tears begin forming in your eyes. you look up at him, teary faced and you're moaning around his cock. he grunts out a string of curses before letting you go and cumming all over your pretty face.

he'll take off your restraints, look at the bruises and red markings caused by the ropes, tells you to clean yourself up and go to med bay. how will you even explain the marks? ah, doesn't really matter either way. if they find out, that's fine by Price. he doesn't mind if others see his handiwork.

"... next week, same day, my office, at 5."

"yes sir,"

is all you say, because what else can you do? he is your captain, afterall.

#cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #captain john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #john price smut #cod mw2 smut #cod smut #cheesy likes cod?!#price goes on a power trip #teehee power abuse #1k+ notes yipee

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harrywavycurly · 10 months

Note

The concept of Eddie being a serial killer but being sweet to us just makes me imagine serial killer Eddie and a princess reader 😍 she’s so innocent but is married to a literal killer.

Hiii babes!!! Oh my gawwwddd staahhppp!!! This concept is *chefs kiss* because it’s just the irony of you being all sweet, innocent and probably a little too nice/trusting while being married to a serial killer who you have cutting the crust off your sandwiches and leaving you love notes on the coffee maker before he rushes off to “work”🫠 Just let me indulge myself for a moment okay?

Masterlist: here

TW: Eddie is a serial killer

“Honey where is the pot that I make soup in?” Eddie holds his finger up making the man tied to a chair in his own basement stop squirming for a moment. “I want to make soup for dinner is that okay?” Eddie quickly puts his phone on the work bench next to his duffel bag so he can put you on speaker, placing you on mute as he looks into the eyes of the man with a busted lip.

“Make a sound and I’ll make this the longest most painful night of your life understand?” The harshness of Eddie’s voice instantly makes the man just nod his head making Eddie smile as he unmutes you. “Soup sounds amazing Princess, the pot is on the bottom shelf in the cabinet to the left of the stove.” Eddie begins rolling up his sleeves as he hears you rustling around in the kitchen, a loud banging noise making him raise an eyebrow at the phone. “You okay baby?” He hears you let out a sigh letting him know the answer.

“I can’t find it.” Eddie’s eyes flicker from his phone to the man tied to the chair. “I really want soup.” He knows by the way he hears a small sniffle come from the phone that you’re about ten seconds away from having a breakdown in the middle of the kitchen.

“Listen to me baby,” he glances at his watch and then back at the man in the chair. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be on my way home and I’ll make you some soup how does that sound?” He knows you’re contemplating the idea and he can’t help but smile as he pictures you sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor letting out a huff because you wanted to make the soup for him, he’s always thought you were so adorable when you were slightly frustrated.

“Fine but can I help?” Eddie quickly grabs the gloves out of his duffle and begins to put one of them on as he hears the sound of you plopping down onto the couch.

“I’ll never say no to your help sweetheart.” He watches the man carefully as he pulls out the next few items from his duffle, his eyes glaring into the man’s reminding him to stay silent. “Now I’ve got to go okay? I love you and I’ll see you soon.” You tell him you love him too before both of you hang up. “It’s your lucky day,” The man’s face goes white as he tries to wiggle out of the ropes that are tied around his ankles. “This is going to be quick but…probably not painless.” 🙃💖

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inoreuct · 5 months

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i actually desperately need 40y/o zoro with reading glasses. thin wire frames with teensy rectangular lenses perched on his nose as he peers down at one of sanji’s french romance novels to see what all the fuss is about— after so many years with his husband he’s picked up a bit of the language and sanji has a stack of them on the nightstand and he’s bored, alright? sanji has something to wrap up at the restaurant and he might as well. he’s farsighted and squints at everything near him and it makes him look even grouchier than usual and the fact that he’s graying at the temples doesn’t help. he looks terrifyingly severe with all his scars and his frowning, until he smiles— he’s been doing that a lot more lately, and then people realise that’s why he has crow’s feet around his eyes. i need him to have a collection of bottles that he’s fiercely protective over; they’re all empty and the labels are faded to hell, but point to any one and he can tell you where it had been drunk. there’s a beer bottle from the first night he’d sailed with luffy. a sweet rum they’d popped to celebrate usopp’s return. the champagne from when he and sanji had gotten married.

i need 40y/o sanji with long, long hair that he ties and pins and styles differently every day. sometimes he makes decorative sourdough and he matches his braids to the patterns. i need him taking on protégés in his restaurant, guiding a new generation of culinary genius even though teenagers are fucking terrifying and annoying and argumentative, because he remembers being exactly like them and at the end of it they’re good kids. they listen to him (…to an extent). they’re sweet and talented and they do absolutely crazy shit in the process of trying to push their boundaries; sometimes they trip and fall, but it’s fine. that’s how they learn. that’s what sanji’s for, as their safety net and their mentor— he’ll give them shit for it and pick them up anyway, nag them while brusquely brushing off their knees. but sometimes, sometimes, they come up with something extraordinary, and sanji gets so proud he could cry. zeff drops by and nags at him for everything under the damn roof. sanji doesn’t mind it.

i need them in their kitchen, in the morning, when sanji’s far too chipper and zoro’s not awake enough, nursing a cup of coffee and half-asleep again at the table as sanji fries their eggs. i need zoro to have one of those old man rocking chairs that he settles into to watch the sunset and drink tea, because sanji’s managed to get him into tea of all things. he’d have never imagined liking matcha a decade ago. i need that rocking chair to be big enough for two so that sanji can curl into his side and thumb through yet another of his novels. i need zoro braiding his hair and falling asleep halfway. i need sanji pulling his glasses off when they slip down his nose and dragging his husband to bed so that he doesn’t bitch about his back hurting the next day. i need them at sanji’s restaurant, teaching the kids about food and liquor pairings— they’re a little terrified of zoro until he squints and pulls his specs out to read the labels, after which they’re running around calling him old man and grandpa roronoa. zoro fumes because for fuck’s sake, he’s forty, not ninety. he’s not old. he brings a bottle of wine three inches away from his face and sanji does nothing to stop the kids at all.

just— zoro with reading glasses. sanji with long hair. doing mundane, boring things that make them happy because they never expected to live this long anyway. zoro’s down to two earrings and sanji has one. their rings are woven straw pulled from luffy’s hat. they have a little motored dinghy out back that franky made for the times they need to go haul their captain’s ass out of trouble (as usual), but none of the crew are ever very far from each other. they stay at sanji’s restaurant in the all blue and occasionally fend off people from their past looking for revenge. or money. or to eat them out of the house and home, in luffy’s case, which then leads to zoro den den-ing the rest of the lot and sighing that they might as well come over for a cookout.

they’ve all gotten older; a little banged up and scruffed around the edges, but alive and well. nami’s making bank as a mapmaker who caters to the wealthy/insurance agent/financial advisor— zoro scoffs and calls her a swindling witch, to which she smiles at him all sweet before stomping solidly on his foot with her red-bottom heel. out of their conjoining workshops, franky and usopp have started a wildly successful demo-smithing company that specialises in custom explosives and bespoke carpentry. robin owns and maintains the most extensive archive of books any of them have ever heard of, and it’s pretty much lauded as one of the greatest libraries of all time; brook does gigs in jazz lounges and bistro bars, jinbei’s a diplomat who’s well-respected for campaigning for equal rights, and chopper runs his own medical practice. luffy, as usual, is doing whatever he wants, which is a little bit of everything. y’know, taking down corrupt governments and all that.

sanji feeds them like he’s always done and zoro brings out the good alcohol to pass around.

life’s good.

#zosan #40 yo zosan #this got out of hand #can’t believe they ran away with my brain cells again UGH #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece #one piece zosan #sanji #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #zoro #old men yaoi #strawhat pirates #straw hat pirates #straw hat crew

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kithtaehyung · 7 months

Text

and f*ck you, too (m) (teaser) | pjm

title: and f*ck you, too (m) (teaser) pairing: fuckboy assassin!jimin x assassin!reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; work rivals!au, assassins!au, enemies with benefits summary: you despise each other. and yet, you can’t seem to stay away. which is fine, since both of you are completely fine walking the line where it’s drawn. fic warnings: (smut warnings under the cut) language, violence, angst, blood/wounds (reader’s, jimin’s, and others’), cocky!jimin, cold!jimin, baddie!reader >:)), weapons: knives/guns, alcohol/drug mentions, reader has fast cars :))), ties to chairs, chains but who is shocked??, jimin has fast motorcycles🙄, angst, yoongi as a weapons specialist gets his own warning a ha ha, jimin looks too good in tanks, and without a shirt at all, this jimin is a warning in itself, did i mention angst? note: lmfaooooooo this is just assassins getting in each others’ ways with a generous splash of filth and a side of angst :)) WE ARE GETTING A PROPER JIMIN FIC, Y'ALL!! est. word count: 15-20k | teaser wc: 908 est. drop date: oct 2023 18+ taglist: sign up here (i check all blogs)

smut warnings: explicit scenes, biting, bondage (ropes, pillowcase), scratching, angst, slapping, hickies, body worship, piercing play, spit play, orgasm denial, pussy spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, face riding, slut/whore mentions, edging, oral (m/f rec), thigh riding, possessive but they won’t admit it</3, choking, angry sex, angst lol, hair/head pulling, protected/unprotected sex, praise kinks galore, easy access, cowgirl, hitting from the back, rough sex, spanking, teasing, creampie, chains (stay on!!!!), multiple orgasms, aftercare when it’s least expected👀

Glass.

Bullet casings.

So much broken glass.

As you listen in the scattered silence, you’re careful to skirt around the tiny shards making an ocean out of your villa.

Well. It’s now more of a wreckage than a beautiful seaside vacation home, but nuances mean nothing when you’ve only used it to store an eighth of your arsenal.

And your fucking pink McLaren that’s now face down in the nearest reef.

You are going to end this man.

“Come out, my love…”

Fuck him for double-crossing right when you were getting along.

At least, you felt like you were.

Maybe it was just a lapse in judgment, and the last goddamn mistake you’ll ever make around Park Jimin—assassin, playboy, sole occupant of the top of your hit list.

“Your target’s on the run, you know.”

Of course you’re fucking aware. But he won’t trick you a second time.

As soon as he gets a clear shot, he’s taking it.

And despite rivulets of sweat and blood running down your arm and a fresh gash on your upper chest, you are poised to do the exact same.

“Shouldn’t you be following them? Awhh, wait, your ride… What a shame.”

The gritting of your teeth almost gives you away.

Think.

Based on where you hear Jimin and the layout of your place, he’s somewhere around the foyer.

And hiding in an open hall next to your kitchen, there’s no way you can get him from where you’re poised.

So wait.

“What to do… Ah! I can call a taxi to pick you up! How does that sound?”

Wait, goddamn it.

Don’t fall for his shit.

Watch for any dark waves in the debris-riddled floor. Hold off until he’s in a good sight line.

Fuck, your wounds hurt.

Hot exhaustion warms your mouth as you wince, blood starting to harden along your slick skin.

“Or you can just let them get away. This would be Chance Zero, though, so. You’d end up getting a geo-bounty on your file… but it’s your decision!”

Breathe.

Geo-bounties aren’t too bad if they’re low.

Only when they evolve into Global status should you be worried. And that only happens if the Council deems it.

You’ve stayed on their good side… other than screwing up the missions Park Jimin has ruined.

“Come on, love.”

He sounds closer.

“Be a good girl.”

A lot closer.

Now you just have to wait until he… rounds the… corner.

…What happened?

Where the fuck did he—

Your body reacts before your mind does, ducking to avoid a strike into hard spackle.

Twisting, your forearm prevents the next swipe of Jimin’s blade as you retrieve your side dagger, and four boots trample the glass below in a violent dance of combat.

Above below swipe left dodge right parry parry lunge parry.

When you aim at his chest, your gun is quickly shoved, bullet firing into one of the last kitchen cabinets left standing.

And your opponent has the nerve to look appalled.

“You were gonna shoot me?”

All you do is tsk.

Clashes ring out again as you dart forward, and you go for a opening while mapping out how the hell you’re gonna catch up to your target before—

Fucking hell!

Chilling pain sears across your shoulder from the cut Jimin makes, and you half-stumble, half-crouch to avoid his killing blow.

Taking the risk and rolling across your favorite broken vase, you slide and fire again, the kickback hurting your arms like a bastard.

“Fuck!”

Finally.

Through slitted eyes, you can tell you just grazed Jimin’s thigh, and he collapses to a knee while you struggle to stand upright.

Crinkles of glass echo throughout the hall as you both haphazardly collect yourselves, with him breathing hard and you grunting through stinging pain.

Shit, he’s cursing like you’ve never heard before.

But you can’t let that distract you from your goal.

Up first, you aim your weapon just in time to face his expression.

Those wide eyes.

You have the perfect shot.

And yet…

You hesitate.

Time bends as you vascillate between decisions, your moral compass going haywire and refusing to align with any direction. Electricity fizzes and pops while another patch of your ceiling falls, but neither of you move.

Spare him. End it. Kiss him. Finish the kill.

Your heart squeezes the trigger.

And you fire at the light fixture above him before fast limping out to your garage.

Curses ring in the falling shards while you make your getaway, fingerpainting the walls with swift red strokes.

Get there get there get there.

Jimin won’t be far behind.

Ripping open the back door, you grit through the pain while swinging a heavy hand onto a glowing pad.

After the blooming beeps, you swipe in a password before hitting Floor, and find ponderous support on the door while you wait.

Breathe. Breathe. Holy shit, everything hurts. Breathe.

At your feet, the solid garage foundation slides open to reveal a car rising on a platform.

The other McLaren that Jimin didn’t launch off the nearest cliff.

Lamenting the leather interior already, you drag yourself to the drivers side with a series of groans, swiping a roll of wrappings and a couple gun magazines from a counter along the way.

Run run run.

He’s probably right behind.

In seconds, you’re zooming out of the driveway.

And with a bruised as fuck heart, you blast holes in Jimin’s motorcycle wheels for good measure.

tbc. :)

what do we think bc i already wanna fight this man lol | join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, and messages are super super appreciated :D see you at the droppppp hehehe ⇥ masterlist ⇥ writing updates board

#here we gooo!#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jimin fic #jimin x you #jimin x reader #pjm fic #in which both parties are stupid and attractive and despise one another lol #bts smut #bts angst #jimin angst #jimin smut #ryenwrites #*latest #*ryenfictalk #*teasers

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

could you do a hotch x reader where reader has injured her leg and he walks her to the ambulance and then grows very protective of her in the hospital and/or office??

"Hotch, she's- aah," You gasp, leg burning with a fire that you're sure will turn it to ash, "She's down, I'm- I'm okay, I can wait, get her help."

"Morgan's got her," Hotch murmurs, slipping his hands beneath your arms as Derek attends to the unsub's final victim, "You need an ambulance."

"Ah, it- it hurts! It hurts, Hotch," You whimper, welcoming the rough material of his kevlar vest when it meets your face. He hauls you off of the ground, and you're ale to bury your face into his shoulder to ground yourself.

"I know," He murmurs, and when he has you on your feet, or rather, foot, he braces an arm at your thighs.

"Grab my neck," He instructs you, and if you weren't in mind-numbing pain, you'd be freaking out about flinging your arms around your boss's neck. It's even better when he lifts you bridal style, and you hope he does it again someday, minus the blood gushing from your leg.

It's certainly flowing less now, thanks to the jacket that Aaron had tied around the wound, so tight that it made you see stars. But there's still blood leaking from the bullet hole, and you can't look at it or else you start to get queasy on top of everything else.

To make sure you can't see it, you bury your face in his neck. It's unprofessional, sure, but you're bleeding out, so you think you deserve a pass.

"You're gonna be okay," Aaron hums, and you feel his voice thrumming through his throat, "We're almost to the ambulance, okay? Just hang on, don't close your eyes."

Every step that he takes jostles you in his arms, but he holds you tight. Sirens get louder in your ears and you see flashing lights even from where you're smothered against his skin, and before you know it you're being lowered into an ambulance.

Your vision swims as the EMTs get to work on your leg, and to your surprise, Aaron steps in beside you.

"Hotch," You rasp, looking at him through hazy eyes, "You- go, they need you there."

"They're fine." He assures you, settled on the bench beside your stretcher, "Dave and Morgan can drive back, and there's an ambulance waiting for Rebecca. I need to make sure you get settled, that you're not alone."

Very little can pull Hotch away from his duties as Unit Chief. You're fairly certain that he's supposed to wrap up, give his report at the scene and file paperwork for it later. He lets his agents leave, and he stays to finish the job himself. So you take your time to appreciate that he's given that up for you, that he's choosing to be carted to the hospital rather than take his typical position of authority.

He does the same three days later, skipping out on a meeting with Strauss to wheel you out of the sliding doors of the emergency ward. Your hands are hovering uselessly over the wheels, but once you realize he's serious about pushing you the entire way to the SUV, they melt over the armrests.

"Thanks, Hotch." You peer up, looking at the underside of his chin as he navigates the uneven sidewalk.

He glances down at your face, and you know what looks like his typical stern frown is really upside down to you, a kind smile against his cheeks.

"You're lucky I didn't let Morgan do this," He reaches the van, opening the passenger's side door and turning to help you out of the chair, "He would have brought along Prentiss and Reid just to have a wheelchair race."

He even buckles your seatbelt for you, despite your arms working fine. It means he's close, incredibly so, to your face, and he lingers for just a split second too long.

"I appreciate that," You laugh, and you think your actions through, but only minutely. You lean forwards, lips catching his cheek rather than his own mouth that you're yearning to kiss. It's intimate, of course, but you're hoping that it's ambiguous, that if he wants it to be romantic, it will be, and if he doesn't, then it won't.

Judging by the sweet, rosy blush that colors his cheeks when you pull away, he wants it to be.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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yxami · 8 months

Text

Lawrence part 2, trying to write silly stuff to get my brain started

desc: yandere victim yandere x kidnapper reader, gn reader, male yandere, slight nsfw, is it stockhold syndrome if he was dreaming abt it b4 it happened?

Lawrence:

You cupped Lawrence’s cheek, gliding your hands across his smooth silky skin before he gasps at the soft touch. Unable to move, too anxious to move himself away from his crush, call it stockholm syndrome, manipulation, whatever, but there was no way he would reject your advances after so much anticipation. He’s been waiting too long to pass up on you finally reciprocating his feelings.

Well, what he thought was reciprocating but was actually a tactic to get him talking about when his parents would transfer the 500k into your account.

Something that would never actually happen.

Not with your victim begging his parents to let him stay longer. He had managed to convince his parents that he was fine and that you were his possessive friend who wanted to have a few sleepovers back to back. You wouldn’t have known about him even having a second phone until you saw him tweeting about how hard he’s crushing on someone.

That someone being you. You knew it from day one. You should’ve known having him tied in a chair, being teased for information would only cause this delusional fucker to love you even more. He’s still slightly convinced that you’re just a nervous wreck trying to mask your intentions instead of the reality of him being genuinely kidnapped for ransom.

“Ren, tell me, when are they going to give me the money so I can finally release you?” You rubbed his thigh, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen how tighter his pants looked in the matter of seconds, just ignore the forming dark spot, that’s not important!

“I Mmph- um..” He babbled, voice cracking as he tried to form his words, only for them to come out incoherent with his glassy eyes staring up at you. “I dunno..”

“I know your parents have that kind of money, why aren’t they giving it? Hmm?” You asked once more, wondering what it would take for him to spill the truth, maybe you’d have to actually take it as far as to touch the guy. He seemed excited enough already, judging by how his legs opened up a fraction at you rubbing his inner thighs, as if his body was instinctively revealing itself for you.

“Maybe they’re busy?? Ah— please please” He pleaded, unsure of what he was begging for. It could’ve been asking you to run your hand more across his inner thigh and bulge, or for you to keep speaking to him while he’s in this drunk haze of being addicted to your touch, to you, to everything.

“What would they be busy with? Too busy to think about their dear son? I know you’re spoiled, just look at you” You unintentionally spat your words with slight venom, being envious of what riches he grew up with, so much so that he’d have trouble seeing the struggles you grew up with.

Your fingers firmly wrapped at his jaw, turning his head to see the sides of his face, seeing how the blush poured over every area that you managed to affect.

A surprised whimper escape from his lips, causing him to try to pull his face away, he doesn’t think he can handle anymore teasing, grabbing and you pulling on area you’d like, treating him like he’s yours and only yours to play with. God this is hotter than he expected, a little too much to handle, and yet he still can’t help himself to blurt out stupid things to get you to overwhelm him more than you already have.

He should be chastised for liking this so much, but this was written in every page of his book, getting tied and bound by you, interrogating him with no chance to get away, you might as well propose because he will soon!!

“They’re p-probably distracted with work so.. they haven’t noticed?” Lawrence hates being in-genuine with you, but he has to. He doesn’t want you kicking him out for lying through his teeth about something like this. It’s just a simple switch of the words, you’ll understand soon enough right?

You glanced at his phone, practically teleporting across the room, why didn’t you just search his phone? There was no need for you to be asking him if he just unlocked it!

“Um.. I can’t do that” He pushed his bottom lip out into a contemplating expression, he’s never declined anything you wanted but he has to right now. He doesn’t want you finding out the texts that he sent to his parents, you’d definitely get mad!

“Why?” You glared at him, leaning close so he could see your hatred for his defiance. Especially after he’s been so cooperative with giving you all the information you needed, yet suddenly when it comes to the money and contacting his parents he refuses to?

It makes no sense!

Why wouldn’t he— The realization finally hit you. He’s been telling you answer since the start. He’s in love with you and the idea of being kidnapped, of course he wouldn’t fucking tell his parents. He must’ve said something to them when he had his second phone. This is why they haven’t contacted you in a week!

So what now, you were stuck with this pervert?? You wanted the money but not enough to stay by him for as long as he wanted. Maybe you should find someone else and let him go. How unlucky were you to get this guy as your first victim.

“I’m sorry.. please don’t ignore me” Lawrence whispered out, looking up at you with that familiar look in his eyes. The sight that expressed a love sick look even if you were right in front of him. “I wanna tell you!! But you’ll be upset and I don’t want you to be mad” He whined, leaning towards you with a sorrow filled look.

His looks were convincing, you hated it but his adorable pout and expressions were never feigned!

“You texted them didn’t you? Probably something like you were fine and to not send anything?” You exhaled, no longer in the mood to get mad. You had no clue that was even possible.

“Mm…” He whined, looking at you, then at his hands that anxiously fiddled with each other, his eyes would flicker at you and then to the other. He wasn’t too sure if he should just spill it or not but ultimately he decided to obey. “Yeah.. I’m sorry” His frown increasing with tears that welled up in his eyes, causing them to be more shiny and pitiful than usual.

“God, I don’t know what I’m even gonna do with you, at this point I don’t even think I need you tied up” You mumbled your last sentence, deciding to test it out by untying him. It would probably be better if he ended up faking that he saw this situation in a red heart shaped glasses type of way.

“Huh? You’re untying me? N—No! Please don’t let me go, I don’t want to go back at least not right now” Tears streamed down Ren’s face, clearing showing he wasn’t ready to leave now. He was already on the verge of sobbing as he clung onto you.

You opened your mouth to tell him something along of the lines that you weren’t doing that but you couldn’t help but want to see if he was being real about wanting to stay so badly. Surely it was just a simple scenario that would be crushed once he realized the severity of it?

“Please..? I’m sorry I disobeyed you” His doe eyes forcefully making eyecontact with you, refusing to look away as if you’d punish him for doing so. “Just give me another chance? I swear I’ll be so good for you..” His whiny tone more evident while his bottom lip quivered, sniffling as he kept his arms around you.

“I was just untying you, you can leave if you want but you obviously don’t.. so just do whatever you want” You sort of mumbled, what were you supposed to do after testing him? It’s not like you could call his parents and tell them to pick up their son that refused to leave. He could snitch you out if he was mad enough anyways.

But his infatuated stare that you could feel burning holes in the back of your head said otherwise.

While you stepped up the stairs you were too lost in thought to hear his hesitant steps after yours. He pondering whether to follow you or not but he didn’t want you to leave his sight so he did. Maybe you’d let him roam around the house now, the only time you ‘technically’ let him was when he had to go to the bathroom.

“Um.. I can try cooking and cleaning the house while you work, will that convince you?” Lawrence followed close, on your tail while he wrapped his hands together, he wanted to hold onto you for comfort but grabbed his arm that reached out for you before you notice he tried.

“Convince me how?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, your palms resting right at the edge while your lower back pressed against it too, your calm demeanor only made him more comfortable that you were his kidnapper. If you were someone different, they would’ve never let him up here let alone speak to him like this. In such a friendly yet commanding tone..

“That I’m loyal! I’ll try to convince you that I’m good and how I can provide things for you!” He perked up at the chance to prove himself, you could see his eyes light up because of it. “Um.. but it can’t be money yet because I haven’t gotten my allowance and I don’t think my parents would give me 500k out of nowhere” He had an apologetic demeanor while looking at the floor, hoping his honesty helped with the situation.

You hummed in a approving tone, opening your fridge to look for something to snack on, or brunch if possible. Chinese left overs? Eggs with bacon if you wanted, or instant noodle soup if you weren’t in the mood to cook. Those were the only options that seemed appetizing.

“Can I help cook breakfast?” Lawrence stood behind the fridge door, towering over you while he leaned to see what you were observing. You turned your head up, seeing the unfamiliar sight of him facing down at you instead of the opposite where he’d sit in a chair and stare up.

“Yeah sure, grab a big pan while I get some of the stuff we need” You pointed, a little dazed at trying to get used to this new found roommate, at least for now, until you found a solution.

If only you knew this would be a permanent solution, at least until Lawrence decided to terminate this unspoken contract. You should’ve known it was sealed by the blush on his face after your approval to him proving his worth! Now, he has all the freedom to impress you that he’s a worthy husband roommate!

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 5 months

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-BANG CHAN

A loose retelling of Hades and Persephone-modernized and darker than before, but beautiful all the same.

A/N: I'm not happy with this. But you guys can have it anyway.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Bang Chan, Chan, Christopher, Christopher Bang, Y/N, Femreader, Chan as Hades, Y/N as Persephone, Underworld, Greek Mythology, Hades and Persephone, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Chan x you, Chan x reader, Chan x y/n, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Other members make guest appearances as various Greek gods, Greek Gods

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Warnings: Underworld Shit, Dark Undertones, Underhanded God and Mortal shit and dealings, Death, Dying, Triggering Themes, Toxic Relationships (not main characters), Chan's fucking in love with reader to the point of obsession.

Playlist:

🌸I’ll Be Damned-Gavn

🌸Seven Nation Army-Stevie Howie

🌸Call Me-ShineDown

🌸Granite-Sleep Token

🌸Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version)-Taylor Swift

Title: Every Last Seed

He goes by many names.

He always has.

Hades.

Ploutos.

King of the Underworld.

God of the Dead.

Bringer of Death.

Lord of Darkness.

But by far, his favorite name is the one that only you are allowed, dripping from your lips, soft and sweet, like honey, like a deadly nectar he's become addicted to-

Mine.

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"Where the fuck is he?" Chan storms through the door to his office, terrifying the wraith he employs as his secretary, her throat jumping with a gulp, as she straightens her glasses, and clasps her clipboard to her opaque chest.

"Ah, sir, I was just asking his Lordship if he'd prefer tea or coffee-"

"No need." Chan growls, not even bothering to look in her direction. "He won't be staying."

Hyunjin grins from his position behind Chan's overly large desk, his feet planted directly in the middle of some important treaties Chan had been working on the day before for some particularly pesky mortals.

"Ah, is that any way to treat your baby brother, Channie?"

His given name. The only ones who dare call him by that name are his brothers and you.

Everyone else just refers to him by the name the mortals gifted him when he became God of the Dead eons ago-Hades.

Chan stalks toward his brother's reclined form and promptly shoves his feet off the desk with a little bit more force than necessary.

"The perfect way, actually. Especially when said brother is impeaching on my very valuable and limited time, uninvited, I might add."

Hyunjin sniffs, straightening the highly expensive baby blue suit he wears, and plants his feet firmly on the ground, swiveling in Chan's chair to face him.

He tucks a strand of his golden hair back behind his ear and levels Chan with a self important look that makes him grind his teeth in agitation.

"Fine. You obviously want me to get straight to the point, so I will."

Chan feels a muscle tick in his jaw as he taps his foot impatiently, motioning with his hand for the man before him to continue.

"Great. What is it?"

Hyunjin sighs, making a show of straightening the crown on his brow, and then he gives Chan a grimace which he tries to soften with a halfhearted smile that Chan sees through immediately.

It makes his clench his fingers into fists at his side.

"How's the new little wife, hm, big brother? Satisfactory, I presume?"

Chan feels himself prickle at the mention of you, but he keeps his expression unreadable, dark, as he stares back at his clearly prodding brother.

"Fine. Anything else? Or did you travel all the way here and risk your wife's wrath just to ask me how my honeymoon was?"

Hyunjin blanches at the mention of Hera, and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now in the face of Chan's obvious ire.

"Yes, well-" He stands up, planting his hands flat on Chan's desk and leaning toward him, as if to appear intimidating.

Chan wants to laugh at the pathetic display.

"-there's been a problem. I'm sure you've noticed the influx of extra souls ever since you uh, tied the knot, without her mother's permission?"

He fidgets nervously under Chan's unwavering, blank stare.

Tugging at the collar of his expensive suit once more, Chan watches as his younger brother, the supposed God of the Gods, seems to wilt under his penetrating gaze.

Finally, he sighs heavily, and seems to implore Chan to give him something, anything, he can work with.

"Her mother's fucking pissed with you, Channie, all right? I'll just come out and say it. I need you to fix this."

Chan remains unmoving, stoic, in the face of his brother's obvious plea.

After another moment of silence, Hyunjin throws his hands outward and exclaims with obvious exasperation, "C'mon, help me out here. Lord knows I've helped you in the past when you asked."

Chan arches a brow. "Helped me?"

His voice is flat, cold, deadly, and Hyunjin winces subtly.

"Okay, listen-" He holds up his hands, as if the weak gesture of peace will stop Chan's building fury. "-you know the delicate balance we have between the mortals. We worked decades for that, and if Demeter keeps fucking offing them left and right, just to spite and overwork you, and the Underworld, we're gonna have a much bigger fucking problem on our hands than a petty little feud between you and your recently acquired mother in law."

Chan hates to admit it, but Hyunjin's right, as much as it pains him to agree.

Fucking Demeter and the chip on her shoulder toward him.

God forbid, her perfect, innocent, naive daughter-the goddess of Spring-fall in love with someone as twisted and dark and wicked as Chan-god of the dead and ruler of the Underworld.

No, the Goddess of Harvest was not bound to let this go lightly, and it seemed he needed to put a stop to this before it ever really began.

A few extra mortal souls on his workload was nothing really, but if she even thought about dissuading you-

Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut. He can feel a headache building.

"Fine." He grits out, and he can practically hear Hyunjin breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll handle it."

Ignoring his brother and his babbled platitudes of thanks, he steps toward the window and looks down over the city below, flickering to life beneath the coming darkness.

"But know this-" He turns and levels Hyunjin with a dangerous, black gaze. "-if I even hear a whisper of you and Demeter's little foolish escapades putting my wife in danger, I will end you both without a second thought and with one snap of my fingers."

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He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on you. How could he forget?

Attending one of his younger brothers garish and old fashioned parties-he'd thought they'd stopped doing these kinds of things centuries ago-he'd been dragged over to rub shoulders with some of the greats, one stiff tuxedo away from going the fuck home where he belonged.

And then, he'd seen you, hidden in Demeter's shadow- though nothing could truly hide your exquisite and rare beauty, not even your mother's sour, pinched expression-and his feet had moved toward you without permission, as if drawn by an invisible thread of fate.

Your mother had looked at him as he approached with such disdain it would've set him on fire had he not been a god, but he'd ignored her, striding boldly forward through the party goers until he stood directly in front of you.

"Hades." Demeter had hissed in greeting, dark hatred flashing in her eyes as she'd put a protective arm out in front of you.

You stared up at him with the biggest, most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and extended one slender, soft hand out toward him, breaching the threshold of your mother's protection without a second thought, as if you could feel the tug of the persistent string too.

"Persephone." You had whispered, than blushed, your cheeks going red, as his fingers found yours. "Or Kore. O-or (Y/N). Whatever is to your liking, your highness."

Your hand was like velvet-warm and silky in his own-and his fingers dwarfed yours, making them feel delicate and almost fragile in his grip.

"I know who you are, Goddess of Spring." He had replied, with far more confidence in his low tone than his quivering gut felt in the moment.

Your expression had flashed surprise at his words, and you glanced away under his direct gaze, red, full lips parted, cheeks taking on an even deeper hue of scarlet.

The look of sudden shy demureness on your features intoxicated him, and his dick immediately took notice.

"I am honored that one such as yourself, your highness, has taken notice of me already."

He had cleared his throat, subtly adjusting himself in his too expensive slacks-some high end shit Hyunjin had insisted he wear-at the soft tone of pleasure your voice took on at his attention, and finally, reluctantly released your hand, even as Demeter ushered you back behind her looming form.

"We really must be going." Her expression went from pinched to furious as his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than necessary. She ushered you away. "Say goodbye, Kore."

"Goodbye." You had murmured, eyes flitting up to his briefly, before you let your mother lead you away and out of his sight.

Chan took his leave shortly after, giving Hyunjin some bullshit excuse of the Underworld not running itself, and had hightailed it home, his skin itching beneath the ridiculous suit he wore, and his hard-on aching for a release.

That night, he came with his cock in hand, and your name on his lips.

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He arrives home to find you in the garden, kneeling in the dirt, fingers dug deep into the soil.

It's a common occurrence, a sight he's grown used to, but he still pauses, watching you silently for a few moments, enjoying the way your hair falls around your face, the way the curves of your body are accentuated against the early evening light.

Cerberus notices him first, raising his giant, blocky head from his paws where he lays beside you next to the garden plot, ears erect. His thick tail thumps the ground-once, twice-at the sight of Chan and you glance up, following the dog's gaze.

Chan steps from the shadows, and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen graces your features as soon as you catch sight of him.

It takes his breath away, and as you stand, brushing the dirt from the dress you wear, he thinks, not for the first time, that you're the most fucking beautiful thing he's ever had the pleasure of calling his own.

"Channie." You breathe sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck as he draws closer, burying your face in the juncture of his throat. "You're home."

"I am." He agrees, wrapping you tightly in his embrace, taking a moment to let his nose skim your hair, the smell of blossoms and springtime filling his senses.

You pull back, just enough to gaze up at him, and he lets his finger go beneath your chin, holding you there, so he can study and memorize, once again, every single intoxicating line of your features.

Your lips quirk into the start of a smile, as if you know what he's doing, but you don't say anything.

He's grateful for that.

"Did you have a good day?" You ask softly, your breath warm on his fingers, as he traces the part of your full, soft lips.

"Eh." He lifts one shoulder into a shrug and lets it fall back down heavily. "Not as good a day as I would've had staying here with you, little blossom."

You arch a brow, and he sees it, the stubborn expression wash across your face that lets him know you know he's trying to deflect.

You put your hands on your hips and stare him down, and he resists the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of your nose.

Fuck, you're adorable.

"I heard Zeus came to see you."

"Is that so?" He questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he watches you hold your ground.

He leans forward, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that frames your face, before he lets his gaze dip to your throat, the golden chain you always wear dipping tantalizingly out of his line of sight where it disappears between the swell of your breasts.

"You're correct." He acquiesces, his fingers itching now to reach up and tug the chain free, so he can dangle the wedding ring he knows lies safely between your breasts between the two of you, just so he can remind himself who you belong to once more.

His dick swells at the thought.

He clears his throat, and brings his gaze reluctantly up to meet yours once more, noting the dark flash of stubbornness that washes across your eyes.

"However." He smirks now, stepping closer, letting his hand gently close around your throat, your pulse thready beneath his palm, like a fluttering bird beating against the bars of a cage. "I don't really want to talk about my brother right now, do you?"

He leans forward, and begins to suck kisses along the column of your throat, and you giggle, batting him away and stepping back before he can distract you further.

"Channie." You whine, putting your hands once again on the swell of your hips, and he thinks, not for the first time, that your delicious curves are going to be the death of him one day. "I'm serious."

He sighs, and tries to ignore the hardness of his eager dick between his thighs, knowing you're not going to let him off the hook-or let him fuck you dumb-until he's told you what Hyunjin wanted.

"Fine." He sighs again, and drops onto one of the many benches he had had installed in the garden solely for the purpose of watching you do what you love most.

You step toward him, and he opens his legs so you can slide between them, putting your hands on his shoulders as his fingers find your hips through the thin material of your dress.

"Tell me." You insist, staring down at him and Chan tilts his head back to look at you, arching a brow at your commanding tone.

"Goddess of Spring, are you really telling the Lord of the Underworld what to do?"

An amused smirk flickers across his lips at the look of exasperation that crosses your features.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he chuckles, tugging you to him. You protest a little, but let him do it anyway, burying his face into your stomach, the soft feel of your dress caressing his skin.

He breathes in your perfume, once, twice, and then leans back, meeting your gaze.

"Your mother is throwing a little temper tantrum it seems."

Your eyes widen minutely, and Chan sees your lips flatten into a determined, serious line.

"Because of our marriage?"

Chan gives a slight nod. "It would seem so."

One of your hands clenches into a tight, white knuckled fist at your side, and your chest stutters with a sharp intake of breath.

Beyond your shoulder, a vine springs to life, fraught with large thorns, curling around a nearby tree, up and up, tight enough to strangle the bark beneath its hold.

Cerberus raises his head, scenting the sudden unease in the air, and lets out a small whine.

You take in a deep breath, and the vine begins to slowly retract its hold on the tree.

"Little blossom." Chan murmurs, tugging you down onto his lap, and encircling you in the safety of his arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'll handle it."

He feels you shake your head beneath his chin.

"You shouldn't have to handle it. She's my mother. I need to stand up to her."

Chan glances beyond you as Cerberus whines again, and sees the vine's thorns growing dangerously long with your distress, piercing through the trunk of the tree, cracking the bark into splinters.

"Pet." Chan warns quietly, nudging your chin in the direction of the destruction. "Take a deep breath."

You gasp, and let the air out on a long, shuddering breath, and the vine halts its upward progress almost instantly as you collapse against Chan, slumping into his chest.

He can hear the tears in your voice when you whisper, "I'm sorry."

His finger finds your chin again, and he raises your watery gaze to his own.

"Never, and I mean never, apologize for the power you hold, my love. For it will bring gods and mortals alike to their knees, and one day, when they all pass beyond this life, you will be known as their queen."

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"You know, it's usually easier to get into the palace through the front door."

The unfamiliar, male voice startled you and you lost your hold on the branch you were currently coaxing toward the palace wall, snatching it up again with a curse just in time to stop yourself from tumbling all the way back to the ground below.

"Fuck." You glared over your shoulder, down to the newcomer, but could only make out a tall, dark silhouette, cloaked in a hood.

The man tilted his head, as if he was looking up at you, and you swore you could feel his smirk even through the darkness.

"Yes, thank you for the advice." You snapped back with a huff, already reaching out for the next branch as your magic grew it down toward your outstretched fingers. "But I think I'll stick with this."

"Suit yourself, little blossom." The mystery man leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at gods knows what.

You paused, catching your breath, and glared down at him, even though you're sure he can't see you.

"Don't call me that."

You saw his chest rise and fall in a silent laugh. "Why?"

"Because." You huffed, reaching for another branch, out of breath as you work around the gods awful gown your mother had insisted you wear to visit Olympus. "I don't know you."

"Oh, but I think you do."

You paused to consider his words, racking your brain for anyone you knew in Olympus well enough to give you a nickname, and came up with no one. Your mother didn't let you visit often from the mortal realm.

"I don't." You insisted, standing up on your tiptoes to try and reach the top ledge of the wall.

You heard the man chuckle again as you stretched-up, up, up-and just as your fingers had grazed the cool marble, your foot slipped off its hold on the branch below, and you tumbled, shrieking, back down through the tree and toward the hard ground.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.

Cracking open one eye, you stared straight into the face of the mystery man, safe in the warm, strong curve of his arms.

His hood had fallen back in the act of catching you, and your eyes widened as you recognized the handsome face before you.

Fucking. Hades.

Brother of Zeus.

God of the Dead.

He grinned at you, and arched a brow, reiterating softly, "But you do."

Your heart did one sharp staccato against your ribcage, as he set you carefully to your feet, and stepped back, and almost instantly, you missed the warmth of his skin against your own.

"Thank you for saving me." You stuttered out, curtsying deeply, now that you had your wits about you.

He chuckled, staring at you as you straightened back up, and you hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush staining your cheeks.

"Oh, I have no worries that if I wasn't here, little blossom, you would have saved yourself."

He motioned upward with a jut of his chin, and you followed his gaze to the tree, gasping as you saw a thick, dark green vine wrapped around its bulbous trunk, stretching down from the palace wall and to the ground below, curling around your feet.

When you glanced back to the man before you, he was already pulling his hood back up over his face, ready to disappear back into the blackness.

"Wait!" You called out before you could think better of it, and he stopped, cocking his head.

You swallowed hard, and took a step toward him.

"Will I see you again, your highness?"

You swore he smiled beneath the hood.

"Call it what you will, Goddess of Spring-fate, destiny, the will of the gods-but I think you and I will be seeing each other again very soon. Very soon indeed."

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"You can't have her, you know."

Changbin took another long sip of his drink, cheeks already rosy, and followed Chan's hungry gaze across the room to you, standing close by your mother's side.

He simply shrugged when Chan turned to shoot him a glare.

"Her mother would never allow it. She hates your fucking guts. Not to mention-" He leaned over and lowered his voice, as if he was telling Chan a secret. He could smell the liqueur on the younger god's breath. "-the whole 'Underworld Ruling' thing."

Chan is saved from having to respond by the appearance of Minho, flute of champagne in hand, look of annoyed disgust on his face, as he slid past the hulking god beside Chan and took a seat on the duvet across from them.

His brother glanced dismissively at Chanbin, leaning back to take another long swallow of his drink.

"Nephew."

Changbin grinned and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Uncle."

Minho arched a brow and his nose wrinkled slightly in open distaste. "Do you ever not wear armor?"

Changbin grinned bigger, and slapped a loud palm to the armor fitted perfectly to his broad chest.

"Of course not! I'm the God of War. Always have to be ready for anything, Uncle. You know how it is."

"I'm sure I don't." Minho sniffed, raising his champagne delicately to his lips, and taking a tiny sip. "The Ocean does not concern itself with the dealings of mortals. Let alone their trivial pursuits of war."

Changbin merely shrugged, and stood, slapping a powerful hand to Chan's shoulder, which sent him jolting forward in his seat, rubbing his offended arm and glaring up once more at the towering figure of his nephew.

"I'm off to find another drink. And maybe a few maidens." Changbin announced, giving Minho a mock salute, as the man stared him down with annoyed disdain. "Take care, uncles."

And with that, he was gone.

Minho's gaze flitted to Chan, and he took another long, slow sip of his drink.

Chan felt his eyes unwittingly pulled back to the other side of the room, but you had disappeared from view, probably dragged off by your mother for more introductions.

"I'm surprised you came."

Chan let his gaze drift back to his brother across from him, and offered him a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, reaching for his own glass of forgotten champagne.

"Yes, well, that makes both of us. I'd hoped to not find myself at another one of these damned archaic, presumptuous affairs for another eon or so."

The corner of Minho's lip flickered with amusement, and his eyes roamed past Chan to the dozens of gods and demi gods currently mingling on the expanse of Hyunjin's vast dance floor.

"Our baby brother is good for very few things, and throwing amusing soirees is indeed not one of them."

Chan felt his own lips quirk into the hint of a smirk, and he raised his glass to Minho in silent salute.

Minho tilts his own champagne in response, and they both take a deep draft of the shimmering, bubbly liquid.

His brothers were hard to tolerate on the best of days, but he'd always felt like Minho understood him just a little bit more than Hyunjin ever had.

Standing, Chan places down the now empty glass and nods to Minho in farewell.

"I've made an appearance. Now it's time to take my leave."

Minho watched him in silence for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then with a flick of his fingers, he filled Chan's empty glass back up with water.

Chan stared at him, and he arched a brow.

"Drink some water before you go, brother. It'll help with the hangover tomorrow."

He sighed, reaching for the glass, and downed the water in one gulp.

"There. Happy?"

Minho's mouth flickered again. "Almost." He cocked his head, and let his gaze roam over Chan's body, as if he could see the way his muscles tensed, the way his mind swirled, already thinking about running into you on his way out.

When Chan went to move past him, Minho put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Careful, brother." Minho murmured, eyes dark and discerning, trapping him in place. "Interest is a fickle, fleeting thing, but obsession is fatal."

There was a beat of tense, deafening silence, Minho staring at him like he could see right through him.

Chan shook his head, and broke the spell.

"Thanks for the advice." Chan grunted, pushing past him without another glance, stalking toward the exit, not caring as he shouldered past the partygoers, earning himself a round of nasty looks.

The cold night air of Olympus embraced him as he pushed through the double doors and into the opulent garden beyond.

Unlike the swirling colors and lights and noise of the party inside, the garden was deserted at this time of night-dark and quiet and abandoned-just how he liked it.

Taking in a deep breath, holding it as the frigid air seared his lungs, Chan strode deeper into the garden, walking between the towering, shadowy rows of hedges, clearing his head.

The music had almost faded out of ear shot, when he heard it-a small, unfamiliar sound that immediately caught his attention.

He paused, freezing, and listening.

There it was again, just around the next bend, somewhere near the center of the hedge maze, beside the fountain he knew graced the large stone courtyard lined with benches hidden amongst the neatly trimmed foliage.

Taking another quiet step so he could round the corner, he heard it once more.

It almost sounded like-a gasp?

Chan came around the hedge quietly, on full alert, his footsteps silent, and as the fountain came into view, he caught sight of a figure leaning back on one of its edges on the other side, obscured through the haze of the water.

Another creeping step forward, still hidden by the shadows of the bushes, and the person came into view.

It was you-sitting on the marble edge of the fountain, dress hiked up around your knees, leaning forward as you focused on something intently.

Chan narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was you were doing, and when he realized, as another little breathy moan left your lips and your wrist spasmed, he halted, feet suddenly leaden.

Gods above, you were touching yourself.

He should move, he should announce his presence, he should leave, he shouldn't be watching you in this very private, very vulnerable moment, but he can't seem to get himself to break the spell, watching you silently from the shadows of the hedge as you pleasure yourself.

You let out that sound again-a breathless sort of stifled release of breath-and Chan felt his dick start to swell in response, straining against the fine fabric of the slacks he wore.

You let your head fall back, eyes screwed closed, lips parted, as your fingers continue their work, and Chan's eyes are drawn to the way your chest heaves for breath, the perfect swell of your breasts straining against the corset you wear.

Suddenly, he can move again.

Stepping quietly from the shadows, he approached, moving to stand in front of you, and as if you could sense his sudden presence, his eyes on you, your eyelids fluttered open, your mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise as you caught sight of him.

"Y-your highness-" You stuttered out, cheeks immediately blooming pink, and Chan was enthralled by the way the rosy color spread rapidly down your chest.

You made a move to remove your fingers, tugging at your billowing skirts, but Chan held up a hand, his eyes meeting your own.

"No. Don't stop."

You froze, staring at him, wide eyed, like a fawn caught in the daylight, and he made an attempt to soften the gravel of his voice, repeating again, softer this time, "Keep going. Please."

You stared at him for another long moment, and he couldn't breathe, maybe you were going to run, maybe you were going to tell on him, what a pervert he'd been, maybe you were disgusted-

And then, slowly, eyes still holding his own, you let your fingers dip back beneath the folds of your gown.

He could tell the moment you made contact again, because your body stiffened, and that sound-the one that went right to his cock-passed your parted lips once more.

Chan watched you, mesmerized, as you let your fingers do the work, arching your body on the edge of the fountain to find the right angles, all the while, holding his gaze unwaveringly.

You were brave, he'd give you that.

You gasped, mouth falling open, and he saw the way your wrist twisted, picking up pace.

He imagined how wet you were, how easily your fingers slid in and out, and he clenched his hands at his side to keep himself in place, to force himself to let you be.

"What do you think about?" He asked suddenly, licking his lips, his mouth desperately dry.

"What-" You started to question, the words breaking off into a breathy moan that had him painfully hard, even harder than before.

He took a step closer.

"What do you think about? When you're getting yourself off?"

Your eyes had screwed closed as you grew closer to release, but you managed to flutter them back open to meet his gaze, your face twisted into the start pleasure, your fingers never stopping.

"You!" You gasped out desperately, chest heaving, free hand digging into the marble ledge of the fountain, fingers white with the effort of holding back.

Chan watched as you came then, crying out and body vibrating, and when the orgasm had finished ripping through you, you slumped back, breathing hard and cheeks flushed.

Pulling your hand from your skirts, Chan tried not to focus on the way your fingers glistened as you wiped them off on your dress.

He was rooted to the spot, watching you come down, cock aching and leaking down his leg, wishing he was the one who'd undone you so fully, when you finally met his gaze once more.

Your expression was unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, when you repeated softly, defeatedly, "You. I think about you."

You sat up, straightening your skirts with your clean hand, and Chan resisted moving closer to you with what very little willpower he had left.

You were biting your lip, staring at the ground between the two of you, when he conjured a trace of shadow, using it to caress your chin and tilt your gaze back up to meet his.

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, your skin pebbling into goosebumps beneath the touch of the shadow, but you didn't move, you didn't look afraid.

Chan felt the corner of his mouth lift into the hint of a smile as he let the shadow trace your cheekbone, brushing back a loose strand of damp hair into your elegant braid.

"You know, little blossom, my brothers say you're a problem."

Your eyes widened a little more, and then a flash of indignation crossed your pretty features.

"Why?"

Chan cocked his head, studying you, and you stared right back.

"Because I want you, but I can't have you. And I tend to have a fatal flaw of getting obsessive over things that are kept from my grasp."

He flicked away the shadow with his fingers, burying his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he let the words settle between you.

His dick was still unyieldingly hard.

Your lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his admission, and then a brief, mischievous smile flashed across your lips, catching him off guard.

You tilted your head, and your lips quirked upward into a bigger, sweeter smile.

"Your highness?"

"Yes?"

You hopped down from the ledge of the fountain, and found your shoes, slipping your feet into them as he watched, waiting for you to continue.

When you stepped toward him, closing the distance, he resisted every urge to grab you and slot his mouth hungrily over yours.

You looked up at him curiously, studying his features, your eyes large and dark, framed by the longest eyelashes he had ever seen.

When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, as if you were telling him a secret only known to the two of you.

"What do you think about when you come?"

He stared at you, trying to put the words with the movement of your lips.

Finally, he swallowed, watching your eyes flit down to follow the movement of his throat.

"You."

"Hm." You hummed beneath your breath, lips twitching, as you finally slipped past him, headed back in the direction of the party.

Chan whirled, watching you go, and as if you could feel his eyes on you, you turned and paused when you reached the hedges, fingers trailing over the dark, emerald leaves, leaving shining pink flowers behind in their wake.

"Interesting." You arched a brow, giving him a half, knowing smile. "And here I was, thinking my little obsession was one sided."

Chan let a shadow slink from the hedge beside you and trail around one of your ankles.

You grinned at him once more, and slipped silently from view.

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Chan steps off the elevator and is immediately met with the largest bouquet of flowers he's ever seen, shoved directly into his face.

He swats them away with annoyance, and the person carrying the atrocity comes into view, panting like they've just carted weighted rocks up the floors of the building and not obnoxiously perfumed flowers.

"Oh, hey boss." Jeongin beams, adjusting the vase of flowers in his arms, so that he can reach up and push the cap he wears back slightly, revealing a sweaty swath of dark hair.

"I got you flowers!" He holds up the arrangement, as if Chan can't see them, and follows him when he stalks past him toward his private office.

Setting the bouquet down on the front desk as they pass, flashing Chan's assistant a winning smile, Jeongin hurries to keep up with Chan's long strides, floating slightly above the floor.

"Well, Persephone did, technically, but you know, she asked me to give them to you so-"

Chan ignores the chattering messenger god beside him, and turns a left down the hall, already silently going over the meetings he has scheduled for today in his head.

Turning another corner, he's just about to push into conference room two, when Jeongin slides in front of him, spreading his arms out to block his way and trying to catch his breath.

"Whoa, boss. You can't go in there."

Chan stares the kid down, expression stoic.

"Jeongin. Get out of my way."

Jeongin doesn't budge, though Chan can see a flicker of fear flash across his dark gaze as he stands in front of Chan's looming, annoyed figure.

He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck in clear discomfort, and shuffles from one winged foot to another.

"Okay, but here's the thing-" He starts, hemming and hawing, glancing past Chan and to the hallway, then back to the god standing in front of him.

"Jeongin." Chan warns, beginning to think there's something going on that he doesn't know about, and nothing pisses him off more than to be oblivious.

Jeongin clears his throat and gives him a half hearted smile. "Persephone kinda asked me to keep you out of the conference room today because she's kindameetingwithhermomtodiscussthingswithoutyou."

Chan stares blankly at the boy in front of him, wringing his hat now between anxious hands, and then asks quietly, dangerously, "She what?"

Jeongin swallows, the gulp is audible in the tense silence, but still holds his position blocking Chan from the doorway.

It's admirable, he'll give him that.

He gives a little shrug and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, boss?"

Chan growls beneath his breath in frustration, and pinches his nose.

He can feel a headache coming on.

"Fine." He grinds out, the muscles in his jaw popping with his irritation as he clenches his teeth and glances past Jeongin to the waiting conference room. "But you're to come and get me as soon as they're finished." He points a stern finger into the middle of Jeongin's chest. "And Demeter is not, I repeat not, allowed to be alone at any time while she's in the Underworld, understood?"

Jeongin nods and gives him a little salute, even as Chan is already stalking away.

"Yes, sir!" He calls out down the hallway, voice echoing off the walls and exacerbating Chan's growing headache. "I won't let you down, boss! You can count on me!"

Chan mumbles something beneath his breath about hiring new wingmen, and locks himself in his office.

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Chan doesn't get to see you for the rest of the day.

The hours slip by, and he's faced with problem after problem-mortal souls unhappy with their judgement, wraiths he employs needing his every attention and signature, accountants wanting to see him about the toll to cross the Styx ('inflation is happening you know!')-and by the time he finally gets home, well after sunset, his every muscle is tight with irritation.

He walks in to see you in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist, Cerberus at your feet, dozing with his head on his huge paws.

The dog gives a thump of his tail when Chan appears, alerting you to his presence, and you glance up from whatever it is you're chopping, giving him a wide, bright smile.

He's not fooled. It doesn't reach your eyes.

Pushing aside the monstrous bouquet from earlier that now resides in the middle of the giant, granite island that takes up a majority of the kitchen, he raps his knuckles on the stone, watching you carefully, his head cocked.

"I heard your mother stopped by today."

He watches the way your chopping stalls, but you don't look up at him, chest inflating with a silent breath before you turn, tossing the carrots into the large stew pot on the stove.

"Yes." You finally say, back still to him.

He tries to force the irritation simmering just below the surface down, relaxing his whitened fingers one by one, as he blows out a long, slow breath.

"(Y/N)."

You turn then, at the use of your given name said in his stern tone, and resume cutting, chopping blocks of beef into smaller cubes.

Chan blows out another breath, harsher this time, and rubs at his temple.

The headache from before is still lingering, pounding now that he's finally left the office for the day.

"What did you talk about?"

You flick your eyes briefly up to his, and then back to the meat beneath your knife.

"Her 'temper tantrum' as I believe you put it."

Chan winces slightly. That wording probably didn't go over very well.

"And?" He prods, leaning against the counter, leaning down so he can glance into your face.

You bite your lip, and he sees you blow out a breath, before you look up at him and force that smile back onto your face-the fake, overly saccharine one from before, the one he doesn't buy for a moment.

"Do we really need to talk about this right now? You just got home, and dinner is almost ready-"

Chan flattens his hands, palms down, on the cold granite, and doesn't let you look away.

"Yes."

Your fingers tighten around the knife, and he sees you let out a shuddering breath.

At your feet, Cerberus cocks his head, your obvious display of uncertainty grabbing his attention.

"Channie-" You start to say, and he watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow.

Anger swirls into embers in the pit of his stomach.

He leans forward, dark eyes flashing. "What did she fucking do? If she so much as made you feel bad for any of this, I won't hesitate to pay her a little visit in the mortal realm-"

"No, no." You wave your hands, finally meeting his gaze once more, your bottom lip wobbly and your eyes shiny. "It's nothing like that."

Chan feels his heart immediately sink.

A tear drips down the length of your cheekbone, and he resists the urge to lean across the counter and swipe it away.

You rub at your eyes with your hands, and breath in an unsteady inhale.

Cerberus stands, butting his blocky head into your hand, until you let out a slight, watery chuckle, and begin to pet his dark ears.

"She-" You start to say, then stop, and Chan stares at you, frozen in sudden fear.

The flowers sitting in their vase on the counter begin to wilt and turn brown and brittle, dropping leaves to the granite like snow fall.

Chan ignores them.

You take in another breath, and pick the knife back up, moving to chop again.

"She wants to make a deal. She wants me to spend Spring in the mortal realm, with her, so I can fulfill my duties every year. And then I'll stay here, with you, the rest of the time."

You look up at him, your expression vulnerable, unsure. There's hurt in your eyes.

Chan's thoughts stop. His body goes cold. There's a buzzing in his ears, and he doesn't know if the shadows are lengthening, or if his sudden loss of control is causing everything to creep in.

He turns, and without a word, flicks a shadow out to send the vase of now withered flowers crashing to the ground.

You yelp, jumping at the noise, and Chan stands, back to you, staring at the mess he's made, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

The mess he always makes.

After a beat of silence, he hears you put down the knife, and then your soft footsteps, as you pad around the counter and kneel on the ground next to the shattered vase.

Slowly, without looking at him, you reach out and begin to pick up the broken pieces.

Chan breathes in, breathes out. His headache is pounding.

"Little blossom, leave it-"

He starts to say, moving to crouch before you, just as you pick up another piece of sharp ceramic and wince, instantly dropping the piece back down with a clatter, as you pull your hand back against your chest.

Chan reaches out and tugs your hand back into view, watching as the cut on your palm starts to slowly leak golden, shining ichor down the line of your wrist, dripping on the floor between the two of you.

His breath stalls as he glances up to your pained expression, all the anger leaving his body in an instant.

"You're bleeding."

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"You're bleeding."

Chan glanced up at the sound of your voice behind him, meeting your concerned gaze in the mirror, where he remained, leaning over the basin, palms on the cool ledge of the sink, watching the water swirl away down the drain.

"Yeah, well-" He gave a little humorless chuckle as he watched the water shimmer with the ichor he washed from his knuckles, before he straightened and dried his hands, glancing once more at you in the reflection of the mirror. His mouth quirked up into the hint of a smirk, and he winced as it pulled at the split skin of his lip, tasting fresh ichor on his tongue. "-luckily for me, my brother hits like a pussy when he's been drinking."

Your eyes widened. "He hit you?"

Chan turned, swiping a hand across his mouth now, tossing the towel to the side. "Yeah, well, I probably deserved it."

He'd no more than finished the admission than you're at his side, taking his hand in yours, your eyes raking across the golden liquid that marked his knuckles, tacky and congealing.

You glanced up at him, curiosity flashing across your pretty features.

"What did you do?" You questioned in a whisper, as if asking him to divulge a dark secret.

Chan almost grinned-you're too fucking adorable-but he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, expression serious, and lowered his voice to match yours.

"I told him, little blossom, that there's no way in fucking Tartarus that I'm going to another one of his stupid, historic parties, unless of course, it's thrown for us and planned in celebration of our marriage."

You stared up at him for a silent moment, and Chan almost backtracked, wondering if he'd been too bold, when a slight smile curved your lips up mischievously.

"Well." You released his hand and straightened the collar of the suit he wore, before stepping back, eyeing him up and down, head cocked with interest.

The look on your face took his breath away.

"Then I guess you'd better get me a ring, hadn't you?"

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Chan slips your ring carefully from your finger, lying it beside the sink, before he tends to the wound on your palm.

You protest the whole time, claiming it's fine and you're fine and he's being dramatic, but Chan's heart won't stop pounding in his chest until every last drop of your golden blood is wiped clean from your skin.

When he's satisfied with himself, he helps you get down from your position atop the bathroom counter, and pushes you gently toward the waiting shower.

"I'll just be a minute." He says, as you roll your eyes, but strip your clothes anyway, waiting before he hears the water turn on, before he darts back to the kitchen.

He cleans up the mess he made in his anger, and goes back to the bathroom.

He watches you for a moment, through the steamy, hazed glass surrounding the large shower, your perfect outline stretched back beneath the pounding water, and then gets rid of his own clothes, tossing his suit to the side, before he slips into the shower to join you.

You glance at him over your shoulder as he enters, wet hair plastered to your skin, lips pulled into a worried pout.

"Channie-" You start to say, but he steps to you and pulls you flush against his bare chest before you can get any of the other words out.

Your arms go around his waist, fingers tickling the skin of his back, and he lets out a long, slow breath, the exhale rustling your hair, your face buried in the planes of his chest.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes softly, and you pull back to look up at him, eyes wide and soft.

"You don't need to apologize." You say, reaching up to shove some of his thick, dark hair back off his forehead, starting to grow heavy with water.

"I do." He nods, staring down at you, letting his finger go beneath your chin, as he traces the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"You're my wife, yes, but you're also a Goddess, and I need to remember that."

You stare up at him silently, letting him continue, and he lets out another breath, reaching his hand up to cup the side of your face, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

"You have your own duties and responsibilities, and I'm being selfish keeping you here. I can't hide you away forever."

The corner of your mouth wrinkles, as if you're thinking about smiling.

"Are you sure?" You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"As much as I would like to-" He starts, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, moving up along your cheekbone. "-I can't. The mortals-and Demeter-need you."

You sigh, he feels it in the way your chest brushes his, and lay your head on his chest, listening for a moment, to his heartbeat.

He strokes your damp hair, and finally you say quietly, "All right. But I don't have to like it, right?" You pull back, looking up at him with a tremble in your bottom lip.

"No, you don't, little blossom." He gives you a half smile, bending his head to press a kiss to your throat, than to the swell of the start of your breast. His cock twitches at the feel of your soft skin beneath his tongue. "I'm sure as fuck not going to like it."

You give a little laugh, slightly watery, and reach up to swipe the tears from your eyes.

"What will you do?" You ask with a shaky breath, staring up at him in a way that makes Chan's heart squeeze, his insides feel tight with all the love he has for you. "While I'm gone?"

He gives a slight shrug, leaning against the shower wall, as you move to start shampooing your hair into a lather.

"Run the Underworld. Judge the mortals. The usual stuff. I mean, what did I do before I had you?"

"Brood." You reply back instantly, glancing at him cheekily over your shoulder as you turn to rinse your hair.

He leaps forward and pins you to the wall as you shriek, tickling your sides as you wriggle to get away from him, laughing so hard it makes you breathless.

He pulls back, letting you breathe, and you push some wet hair from your face, taking in a couple of calming breaths, before your eyes meet his once more.

The mirth disappears from your pretty features, and Chan feels his chest tighten.

"Seriously though, Channie, I-" You swallow, Chan watches your throat bob, and your eyes grow shiny again. "-I don't know how I lived all those eons without you. And now, to have to leave-"

"Hey, hey." He steps toward you once more, caging you in the protection of his arms beneath the warm spray of water. You bury your face in his chest. "Pet. Look at me."

Finally, you do, raising watery eyes to his, and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"Listen to me, little blossom." He reaches up, stroking your hair behind your ear. "We're talking about months here. Just a few months topside, to soothe your mother, and then you'll be back home with me before you know it."

You sniff, swiping at your nose, and then nod.

"You're right. I know you are."

Chan gives you a half smile, gentle and soft, and leans down to press a kiss to the part of your lips.

The thought of you leaving his side is ripping him apart, but he manages to keep his expression neutral, if only for you.

He presses another, longer kiss against the column of your throat, and takes a moment to breathe you in.

"I love you. I always have, even before I knew you, even before I saw you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You are, and always will be, my obsession, Goddess of Spring."

You look up at him with tear filled eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to his own lips.

"I love you too, God of the Dead. You're the only thing in my entire, immortal days that has ever managed to bring my heart to life, and I thank you for it."

A genuine smile tugs at Chan's lips now.

"Ironic, coming from the Goddess of Rebirth about the Ruler of Souls."

You give a little laugh, eyes sparkling as you look up at him. "I guess so."

Chan tugs you to him and, determined to memorize how you feel, kisses you long and hard beneath the cooling water of the shower.

Inside his chest, his heart flicks out a shadow to meet the flowering vine snaking from your own.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

"Do you think we're all fated to another?"

You ask, lying beside Chan on the grass, the cool night breeze kissing patterns across your bare skin.

He turns his head to look at you, staring up at the stars overhead, fingers twined within his own.

The ring on your finger brushes his knuckle, and a warm sensation washes over him at the thought that you're his now-for eternity.

"Isn't that mortal shit?" He asks teasingly, and you turn to give him a glare, but it only succeeds in making him more endeared, your nose crinkling up and your lips pursing.

"Well, yes, but-" You shrug, turning back to the sky, reaching up your free hand to splay your fingers against the backdrop of the shimmering stars. "-do you?"

Chan considers.

He's never put much stock in fate, or destiny, or anything else the mortals believe in, and he says as much, rolling over to look at you, his hand skimming your bare hip.

"I don't know. But what I do know is this." He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, where you lie, watching him, from the grass.

He lets his finger trail over the marks of his teeth blooming on your shoulder, the love bites already turning purple up the column of your throat, soothed by his tongue.

"Fate is fickle, I don't like to rely on it. Fuck, sometimes, I don't even think I can rely on myself, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and I, little blossom? We were meant to be. And nobody, not fate or any of that other shit that mortals believe in, made that happen. We did."

He watches you as you pause, considering, and then you give him a smile that steals his breath, sitting up beside him to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"Fuck fate." You breathe against his lips, and right now, in this moment, with your skin pressed against his, your warmth settled firmly in his lap, his ring on your finger, Chan thinks he has to agree.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Chan trips over one of Cerberus' toys and gives the big dog a glare, tucked safely away under the kitchen table, his head on his paws.

"I swear to god, your mom is coming home today, and if she sees the state you left this house in-" He threatens vaguely, waving the toy around, before tossing it into the basket in the corner.

"I'll what?"

Chan whirls so fast at the sound of your amused voice that he almost gives himself whiplash, turning to face you in the doorway, a grin on your lips and your suitcase in your hand.

You give him a little wave, suddenly shy, as he continues to stare at you, rooted to the spot.

"Hi?"

He's moving then, crashing into you and sweeping you up into his arms with such force that you lose your breath, dropping your suitcase to the floor, as he pulls you in tight to his chest.

You're laughing and crying, and Chan breathes you in, nose pressed to the top of your head, like he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.

You pull back, just enough to smooth your palms over the side of his face, your eyes still shiny with unshed tears.

"I missed you, Channie."

"Fuck." He breathes out, crushing you back to him again, never letting you go. "I missed you too, little blossom."

You laugh again, a watery sound, and press kisses to every inch of his face you can reach from his embrace.

Chan feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time in months.

"What did you think about while I was gone?" You ask, your eyes sparkling, as if you already know the answer.

He lets out the breath he's been holding, and leans forward to kiss you breathless.

"You." He breathes back in response, and your lips part with pleasure at his answer. "Always you."

And then he kisses you long enough to make up for all the time missed-past and present.

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tojiwrd · 9 months

Text

5: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, bad friends (:((), and i think that's it! lmk if i missed anything

word count 3.7k

a/n i think this is my fav chapter so far lov you guys sm thank you so so much for the support on this!!

send thoughts ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist

Spending more time with Suguru after months of occasional contact was easier than you assumed it would be. You, usually accompanied by Reina, would go to his art gallery in the evenings with a cup of coffee for yourself and him. It seemed too similar to old times, but you always chose to ignore the video reel of memories that pressed play as soon as you opened the glass doors to the gallery of how you and Satoru went there for the mere purpose of annoying Suguru.

This was one of the days your elbows were resting against one of the thin marble tables in the basement—which, you had to admit, was crafted to perfection to be Suguru’s space in his gallery—and mindlessly scrolling through your phone while he worked on his laptop.

“Yo.” You heard him call from his desk just a few feet away from you. “I have to run out to pick up a late shipment. I’ll be back in like—twenty minutes? You can stay here, we'll meet up with Nanami once I get back.”

Nanami Kento was another new addition into your life, and you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the most exciting one. It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard about him before—you had, occasionally from Satoru who was his acquaintance back when they were classmates—but he was fresh and new which made it a lot easier to open up to him. You, Kento, and Suguru had plans for dinner tonight with Reina, too, who backed out a few hours ago because her mother had arrived from her month-long trip.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go ahead,” you replied, sending him a small smile over your shoulder as he gave you a short wave, gathered his car key, and went upstairs.

You just continued swiping through your phone, replying to some text messages from earlier this week that didn’t particularly mean much. You’d spent the past few days at home to only sleep, choosing to spend time with Reina, Suguru, and Nanami. You had been in touch with Shoko, too, but hadn’t found a time to meet up with her since she’d gone abroad for an internship for a couple months. Still, it had taken you a long time before you finally began talking to the friends you had that were connected to Satoru.

You heard the small ding of the sound the system made when the door before the basement unlocks through the keycard and furrowed your brows. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since Suguru left, there was no chance he was back. It was followed by heavy thumps of footsteps going down the stairs, and you only had to see the black lace-up shoes to know who it was.

You wanted to scramble for your things and hide underneath a table, but you didn’t have enough time because Satoru saw you the exact moment his face came into view when he stepped on the third-last step.

“O—Oh. I didn’t know you were here.”

You tried to clear your voice, to pretend that this situation was no big deal. Of course, running into your boyfriend of three years and fiance for a few more months who broke it off with you on a random Tuesday was, in one way or another, a big deal. “He left to get a shipment. I don’t think he’ll be back soon.”

For some reason, for some fucking reason he walked closer to you. You had said that Suguru would take a while because you wanted Satoru to take the hint and leave, not so he could step towards you—closer and closer till you could look into that sea in his eyes almost clearly— and take a seat three chairs down from you. No. You didn’t want him near you, especially not after the night on the balcony.

“Guess I’ll wait, then.” His voice was honey. It was so smooth, so soft that your ears would feel warm whenever he spoke.

“You can just call him.”

There was always something you believed when it came to Satoru ever since he began pursuing you before your relationship: he was persistent. He would leave little notes all over your room that you’d find in drawers days after they’d been placed, asking you to go on a date, to give him one chance. Some notes, you found days after you went on said date with him, and that was when you realized how he truly was persistent. It wasn’t just when it came to you, though. When you, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko went to a bar with an indoor mini golf area, it had taken all three of you to manipulate the ball’s trajectory when he wasn’t looking just so he could pass the hardest route. It was two in the morning and you were ridden with sleep—it wasn’t your fault. When Satoru put his mind to something, he almost always achieved it.

“No point. I’ll just wait—I haven’t seen him in a while.” Just as you knew, Satoru wasn’t backing down.

You didn’t know his motives, and you’d tried really hard to not dig deep into his actions to try to find out. Satoru always haunted all your questions, he was like a ghost within your body constantly testing you, trying to get you to question why he did what he did.

You remembered that you and Satoru were once a blank page, not an entire book that had come to a tragic, unfulfilling end. You tried to erase every word, but they were written in pen and the traces always lingered. So, the only thing you could do was close the book and keep it somewhere far from your sight, but you couldn’t do that when he showed up in front of you. Not as a ghost but as a person, reminding you he was still here, real and moving, and he had pieces of you that you would never get back.

“I’m leaving,” you murmured, deciding that you had the choice to leave it all behind. To leave him all behind. He could haunt you from within, but you couldn’t let him materialize once again into your life.

“Y/N, stop,” he said, arms reaching out to you when you walked past him to go to the staircase but stopping as though he realized it was wrong.

And you replied, “What?” because even though you knew you shouldn’t, a part—a big part—of you was still left in his car where he asked you for the engagement ring. A part of you still couldn’t let him go entirely because you were never good at leaving things behind.

“I want to… apologize,” he began, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. He lifted his hand when you opened your mouth, beginning to say something, and he said, “You don’t have to say anything, okay? Please, just give me five—two minutes of your time. I just need to talk to you.”

And like he told you to, you didn’t say anything because if Satoru wanted to talk for five—two minutes, then you would let him.

“I got married,” he said, as though he was in a daze within his own mind. You scoffed, but didn’t say anything. “And that… that was fucked up. You didn’t deserve hearing about the engagement three months after I ended ours.”

Although it was all true, although you had relived all those moments inside your head, hearing Satoru say them made them real. This wasn’t Reina helping you get over him, this was the him you tried to get over for months. It was humiliating knowing he knew exactly what he did, though there was no doubt he didn’t before this. He knew better than anyone how you felt without talking to you because he was there, holding your hand when a stray tear left your eye as if he was still yours.

You still didn’t say anything.

“I met Hana a month before I ended it with you.” You weren’t sure you could hear this. If somebody held a knife to your chest at that moment, you probably would still stand still, completely silent because there were no words left in your mouth. “I didn’t intend on getting engaged with her, Y/N. I meant it when I said I felt I couldn’t be tied down but—” He paused, as if he didn’t want to continue.

And he didn’t continue, at least for a few minutes that felt like long, grueling hours.

“But she was new, and I hadn’t felt that… newness for so long. Not since I’d met you. And she said things, Y/N, that made me think we couldn’t get married, that we couldn’t work.” His eyes looked at your face, and it was equivalent to a thousand needles piercing your skin because he waited for you to say something, to agree? But you couldn’t, not even after he had broken you completely and left you on the side of the road like you meant nothing. Because in your stupid, twisted head, you could have worked. If he wanted.

He continued, taking your silence as a cue. “When I ended it with you, I—I didn’t want to. I swear. You deserved better, and I realized that I didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. I couldn’t look at you without feeling guilty about the second-thoughts I was having because another girl made me rethink.”

This wasn’t what you expected today, was the only thought swirling through the tendrils of your mind.

“You don’t have to say you understand because I don’t either. I’m not sorry for ending it with you, Y/N, because you didn’t deserve me after all I did, after all I thought about us. But I am sorry for lying to you and, in a way, making our relationship seem meaningless because you probably thought I moved on too quickly.”

“You did,” you said, surprising yourself with the finality of your words. But you couldn’t take it back now that you had made yourself an almost-coherent member of this conversation.

“What?”

“You did move on, Gojo. Too quickly. I don’t think that, I know that and you do, too.”

He tugged his lower lip between his teeth, and you looked anywhere but at his downcast face. It was hard to admit it to him because you couldn’t stop your words, not when he was piling on brick after brick preparing to tumble it all down with you on the other side. If you stayed there any longer—

“I liked Hana then, but the marriage wasn’t what I expected.” You leaned back against the wall, placing some more distance between the two of you. Satoru seemed as though he was clutching at the flimsiest of straws to keep you there, to let you let him talk. “My father—he pushed for it and after losing you, I didn’t fight against it. I thought a marriage like this would hurt less than us getting married and—”

“And what?” you prompted.

“And having to end. I don’t know—I didn’t want us to fail, Y/N.”

You smiled wryly, understanding there was nothing more left for him to explain. “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s… it?”

“I didn’t question why you did what you did before, didn’t try to get answers. I’m not going to change after you’ve given me those answers I never asked for.” At that point, you were looking to find any words to make a swift exit, but you still remained rooted in your spot.

He sighed, fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re saying you would rather not know?”

Of course, you wanted to know, but you had kept yourself from looking for answers. You knew that whatever ran below the surface of Satoru’s flimsy, no-good, unbelievable reason to end your engagement would hurt, and you were always good at taking what he said at face-value. Obviously, you were right but that didn’t grant you the satisfaction of a person whose beliefs were just proven right would.

“I’m saying I’m over it, Satoru.” Your voice was convincing enough. "And if you want a successful marriage, maybe you should tell your wife that you got involved with her while you were engaged to me. I'm not the only one who you should be apologizing to."

As soon as you turned your back towards him and headed for the stairs, the door on top clicked open and Suguru gave you a wide smile and wave when he saw you on the other end.

It was funny, real fucking funny, how on a random Tuesday, every question that had plagued your mind like a ceaseless tornado over almost two years was answered by the harbinger of pain himself. You had been so deeply lost in your own soul, and even a person drowning felt uneasy when pulled back up into the air. Satoru pulled you out and now, he stared at you as if he was a friend who offered you a single piece of a chip because you were starving while he ate an entire packet of it. You weren’t sure how he felt but, with the way he looked at you, you were sure that some immature, adolescent part of him that’s growth stunted in middle school truly believed he had done you right. By telling you the truth two years later.

You didn’t notice Suguru had walked down the steps and taken notice of Satoru and was now flashing his eyes between the two of you as if you were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You weren’t.

“Satoru, man. What the fuck are you doing here?” Suguru asked, and you should’ve made your way up the stairs and away from them but you stayed put. Your mind somersaulted, making excuses for yourself to yourself that you had plans with Suguru anyway, and you would leave with him once he makes Satoru leave.

“I just wanted to hang,” Satoru replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Suguru inhaled a deep breath and you could see the corners of his ears turning a dark, angry shade of red in annoyance as he stared his friend down. “Just leave for now, dude. I’ve got plans.”

You didn’t look at Satoru, but you felt his gaze on you as his footsteps reached closer to the stairs. You moved, not wanting to have any unnecessary contact with him. As he reached you, he halted his steps and looked at you and you could have buried yourself right then into a hole because you hated this.

“I know I’m not in the position to ask for anything but I want to tell you, again, that I really don’t want you to hate me. We don’t ever have to talk again, if you don’t want to, but please don’t hate me.”

You looked at his eyes, then stared at him for a moment longer. You laughed, it was bitter and held a certain form of venom you had never shown Satoru, at the sincerity in his features. “Say what you just said but slower, just so you can also comprehend how utterly senseless you sound.”

A hint of annoyance flashed across his features before he tamped it down and shook his head. He started heading up the stairs, not bidding Suguru or you a goodbye, and you sighed in relief.

“Y/N, I—” Suguru started, but you cut him off by pushing him by his shoulders in annoyance. “Woah, woah. What did I do?”

“You didn’t tell me!” you exclaimed, your voice finally coming back to you after whatever-that-was. “He cheated, Suguru! And you didn’t tell me.” You were saying your thoughts exactly as they leaped through your mind, barely comprehending that you had resorted to punching—albeit lightly—Suguru’s chest as you closed your eyes.

Everything was blank, and for a moment you were convinced you had lost a wire inside your brain throughout this entire ordeal.

“Hey, listen,” Suguru said, his arms reaching out to gently grab onto your shoulders. “You kept on saying you don’t wanna dig deeper and all that bullshit once the two of you broke up. And you were doing good, Y/N. You know how long it took you to start acting like yourself again? Four months. I didn’t want to ruin your process because you were healing.”

You gritted your teeth and said, “You had no right, Suguru. And you had no right to assume when I moved on because it didn’t take me just four months. If your—if your fiance cheated on you and didn’t tell you, I wouldn’t keep it from you.” Your voice trailed off as you stared into his eyes, and that was when you’d realized you truly couldn’t rely on him because he was Satoru’s friend first and yours second.

You had—in great fashion—run away from Suguru’s art gallery before he could even form a defense to your words. At that point, you were sure he wouldn’t be showing up to dinner with Nanami because that would not be a good moment for the three of you. You had dug for your phone and texted Nanami, telling him that you’ll be at the restaurant in ten minutes to which he’d instantly replied saying he’ll be there in five.

It didn’t take long for you to drive and reach the restaurant, which is why you were sitting across from Kento who looked more curious than anything. You tried to avoid his watchful gaze, though he didn’t say anything. That might have made it tenfold uncomfortable because he often came to his own conclusions, without asking any questions, and ran with them.

“Stop staring,” you muttered, fingers absentmindedly flipping through the menu. “And decide what you’re going to eat.”

“I already know,” he replied, unmoving with his stare.

“You and Geto fight?” he asked as soon as you’d both placed your order with the waiter. He raised a brow when you tilted your head, feigning confusion. “You can tell me, I don’t give a fuck.”

You laughed at the lightness of his words. “Why do you think we fought?”

He let out a chuckle, barely audible, and took his phone out. “Because he isn’t here? And because he texted me and said ‘sorry, can’t make it.’ And he said you two were coming together and his text was sent the same time you said you were on your way.”

“Okay, genius,” you drawl, resting your arms casually on the wooden table. “I guess it could be considered a fight,” you admitted.

His eyes flickered with the slightest hint of interest but it was gone the next second. “Oh, yeah? Lover’s quarrel?”

“God, shut up.”

“Don’t go thinking I’m God just yet,” he muttered, a smirk playing on his full lips.

You threw the napkin in front of you at his face which he, unfortunately, caught with his hand. “Me and Suguru aren’t even friends like that,” you said, almost believing it. Truth was, it was the heat of the moment and you wanted to clutch at every strand of dignity to make it seem like what Suguru did didn’t hurt, alongside with what you now knew Satoru did, too.

“Uh huh,” Kento sarcastically went along. “So what happened?”

You debated on whether or not you should tell him the entire story, knowing that he was friends with Suguru and sort-of knew Satoru. But there wasn’t anything wrong with confiding in a friend, right? You chose to give him bits and pieces from the day—about how Satoru, your ex-fiance wanted to talk and give you a whole rundown of how he pretty much fell in love with another girl while you were engaged—which slowly got you talking about the few months after the breakup and Satoru’s new engagement. By the time the two of you were about to order dessert, you had told him pretty much everything—not without being prompted though. As soon as the two of you moved on, he’d say something like that fucker’s so stupid. What did he say after that? It was almost like a conversation with Reina, but with Kento it felt different.

He’d look at you every so often while you talked, a glint present in his eye that usually wasn’t there. He’d run his fingers through his blond hair and slightly lift the direction of his eyes to meet your eye, and if you hadn’t been shit-talking your ex’s best friend, you would’ve felt the warmth radiating through your body under his gaze more.

“I meant it,” Kento started, chewing the last bit of the cake you forced him to order. “That Gojo kid is stupid for that shit.”

You laughed, biting your lip to contain the blush that crept up your cheeks. “Calm down, otherwise I might start to think you like me.”

He looked at you with a blank stare then tilted his head to the side, as if trying to read you. “You’re dumb.”

“What?”

“You actually think I’m not interested in you?” he asked, then laughed as if it was the most preposterous thing he had heard. You thought about it for a moment, and realized every attempt at flirting he made, you brushed off as a joke. That’s just Kento, you’d kept on saying to yourself. You’d ignored every attempt he made because the waters after a three-year-relationship were tumultuous, and it was never your first thought that Kento was truly interested everytime he made a comment slightly suggestive.

It took you a moment to realize you still had to reply to him, and in that moment you allowed yourself to feel the warmth underneath his gaze. “What?”

“I’m not saying I’m about to drop to one knee and propose or something. I’m just telling you there’s interest present.”

You weren’t surprised; only Kento could make something that people always shy away from saying seem so easy. You smiled. You weren’t sure if this could work, and you weren’t even sure if this conversation would ever lead to anything in the future, but it felt like a welcome recess from every other part of the random Tuesday. For a moment, it was easy to forget Satoru, Satoru’s betrayal, and Suguru’s behavior. Kento had come into your life during, what you’d consider, a limbo period where you were still navigating the almost-two-years-ago-breakup and its aftermath. He was fresh, and he was new. Perhaps that was the newness Satoru was talking about.

And maybe there was something innately weird about Kento, someone who was interested in you, to listen to you talk about your ex and then tell you he’s interested in you, but you’d always been a fan of the unexpected.

“Don’t go all quiet,” he murmured, twirling his glass of water around absentmindedly.

“There’s interest on my end, too.”

#nanamiiiiiiiii #kento ml #nanami x reader #hehe #gojo x reader #angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst

699 notes · View notes

sdr2lovemail · 10 months

Note

Can you do a Sanemi x F reader where the reader gets hurt badly on a mission and passes out Infront of the butterfly estate and Sanemi encounters them on his way out from the butterfly mansion to a Mission. I think Sanemi would be angry and worried at first but slowly calm down once they get better. Happy ending? Anyways thank you if you do happen to do this!! <3

Emotional scars (GN Reader)

Synopsis: Finding you wounded and unconscious in front of the butterfly mansion, Sanemi blows up at you.

Note: Eeee, I gotta practice the comfort part of hurt/comfort. It's more of a bittersweet ending than a happy one. Pronouns or gendered terms don't come up in this.

Requests are open!

Using your sword as a makeshift crutch, you hobble through the forest. Not bothering to wait for the kakushi to arrive, you were sure you could make it to the butterfly mansion. The mission was grueling. It seemed that the demon had never-ending stamina. It even managed to get a good slash on your side. You tied your haori to try and staunch the wound. Though, there was still the feeling of the warm, sticky blood dripping down.

Breaking through the woods, the gates of the butterfly mansion are in view. With dizzy, uncoordinated steps, you get closer to getting some rest. Your head felt foggy. You weren’t sure which way you were walking anymore.

When did you collapse? Your cheek is against the cool stones of the courtyard. It felt strangely comfortable. You’ll rest your eyes, only for a moment. Your body goes limp as you drift off into unconsciousness.

Inside the butterfly mansion, a stubborn wind hashira stomps along. “For the last time, Kocho, I’m not spending the night here. I’m fine.”

“You have three broken ribs, Shinazugawa. I wouldn’t call that fine. You should stay here through the night and let us look after you.” Shinobu followed Sanemi, her usual smile gracing her lips. “We wouldn’t want your injury to get any worse.”

He stopped before the door and turned to face her; he could feel himself getting stressed. Tired after an extended mission, he wished to go home and sleep, not stick around Shinobu’s estate. “I’m not some low-ranking slayer. It’s not like I’ll curl up and die because of some broken ribs. I’m leaving.”

As Sanemi opened the door and walked into the courtyard, he realized he almost stepped on something. With his brain foggy with sleep, and the dark blanket of the night, it took him a moment to see what it was. His eyes widened. “What the hell?!”

Your head ached when you came to. The wooden ceiling of the butterfly mansion greets you. Slowly, sitting up and looking around the room; no one was occupying the other beds. Your body burned and ached at the slightest movement. For a moment, you thought you were completely alone. That was until you could hear a familiar snore.

Resting on a chair next to the bed was Sanemi. He had his head resting on his arms against the bed. Contrasting his permanent scowl when he was awake, he looked so peaceful. The crease in his brow was gone, and his shoulders were relaxed. It was nice to see him like this.

Gently, you set a hand atop his unruly hair. His eyes shot open the second your palm met his scalp. Wide, bloodshot eyes flicked up to meet yours. Sanemi practically leapt out of the chair. It was silent; the only noise was birds chirping outside. His expression was unreadable as his stare bore into you.

With a weak smile, you break the deafening silence. “Nemi, I’m so happy to see you.” Your voice was a strained whisper. Your throat itched and burned as you talked. “I was planning to visit you after my mission, and well…”.

A cup of water was thrust in your direction, a scarred hand connected to it. “Drink.” Came the simple word of Sanemi’s rough yet gentle voice.

Taking the cup, you give him a grateful nod before gulping it down. The cool liquid helps soothe your aching throat. “Thank you.” He takes the cup and sets it on the nightstand. Sanemi shifts so his body can fully face you.

“Quit the corps.”

It was such a cold, blunt sentence. Any hint of warmth in Sanemi’s voice was gone. His face held no expression now. There’s a faint twitch in his hand.

“Huh, why are you saying that so suddenly?” You asked, confused by his demand. Once you started dating, Sanemi would ask if you had any plans for your future, if you ever wanted to do something besides hunting. But never had he been this forward about leaving the corps.

Sanemi’s face goes through a few different emotions before settling on anger. He takes a couple steps closer to the bed, a scowl on his face. “Didn’t you hear me?! I said quit! Quit the corps; quit being a demon slayer!” He growled, his eyes intense. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst.

You felt shaken. Sanemi’s temper was never toward you. To see it happen now felt like a punch to the gut. Especially with your head throbbing in pain. “I should quit just because I got hurt? We’re slayers. It's practically a part of the job.”

“Well, this job isn’t for you! You were lying half-dead on Kocho’s doorstep! Might as well quit while you still have your life!” Sanemi shouted. His voice filled with anger and something more pained.

Feeling annoyed and hurt, you yelled back. “I just woke up, and the first thing you wanna do is chastise me? You’ve come home hurt many times, Sanemi. I’ve never told you to quit!’

“This is different. I’m a hashira. I’ve faced demons ten times stronger than any pathetic thing you’ve managed to kill. You’re weak, and those who are weak die! It’s amazing you got passed final selection at all!”

The room suddenly fell silent. Sanemi’s heavy breathing was the only thing filling the air. His face was red with rage. He stares down at you, and you suddenly feel small. He wasn’t a hashira for no reason. Seeing him tower over you like this was intimidating.

After a long, tense moment of silence, Sanemi speaks once more. “Leave the fucking corps.” Those were the last words before he stomped out of the room, slamming the door on his way out.

You didn’t see him around for days. Not once had he come around to apologize or even visit. Sanemi had purposely been avoiding coming by the butterfly mansion. He would have one of the kakushi treat him or just walk back to his estate after a mission. He felt terrible about how he treated you, but it was necessary. To protect you, he had to be cruel.

Though, as time passed, he just kept feeling worse. He had to yell at you so you would quit the corps. He had to treat you like he did with Genya. But did that even work? His brother still became a demon slayer, even going as far as eating demons. This aching feeling was gnawing at him. You were just as stupidly stubborn. You wouldn’t leave the corps just because he treated you like crap.

It had been a while since that argument had taken place. Your wounds were healing nicely, and you would be back to going on missions soon. Shinobu had stopped by for a check-up. She began to chat as she changed your bandages.

“You know, Shinaguzawa was about to burst a vein when he found you outside my estate.” She chuckled.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, still upset with your partner. “I’m sure he was.”

“He was yelling so loud. I was sure he would wake my other patients.”

The night Sanemi found you, he felt many things. While mostly anger, it was also grief and fear. He kneeled over your crumpled form, taking you in his arms. It was like there was a loud ringing in his ears. He could only feel warm blood soaking through your uniform, staining his own.

Shinobu was only a few steps behind him and quickly took in the sight. She ushered him to bring you into the estate. It was hard to separate him from your body. He was holding on so tightly. At first, Shinobu let him stay in the room as she worked. But as he kept barking at her to hurry up, to make you stop hurting, she kicked him out of the room. He sat by that door for hours, not bothering to change out of his blood-soaked clothes. He rushed into the room as soon as Shinobu finished patching your wounds.

The insect hashira left, allowing Sanemi his privacy. He sat by your unconscious body, Holding your hand tight and feeling your weak pulse.

“Why, why are you trying to leave me too? Why does this always happen to me?!” Through his anger and grief, a few tears spilled from his wide eyes. He needed to protect you. One of the last people he had left. No matter what it took or what he had to do. Sanemi couldn’t keep losing the ones he loved.

You were out for days, having lost so much blood. Sanemi stayed by your side whenever he could, only ever leaving for missions or meetings.

“Hm, you're healing well. Your ribs only have slight bruising now, and your concussion is gone. Once you finish your rehabilitation training, I’ll discharge you.” Shinobu spoke with her usual light tone as she wrote a few notes down.

Buttoning your shirt back up, you give her a polite smile. “Thank you, Kocho. You’ll have to let me pay you back one day.”

“Oh, no need! Healing is just what I do.” As she spoke, her eyes gained a mischievous glint. Her dainty form takes a seat on your bed. She leans in close with a smirk. “But if you're offering, how about you pay me back with some gossip?”

You look at her with a bit of suspicion. “What kind of gossip?”

Shinobu chuckled a little, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, don’t play dumb. That argument wasn’t exactly quiet. I’m sure I can help. I’m a great listener.”

You let out a disgruntled sigh, looking at the hashira next to you. “I mean, why ask if you already heard everything?” Shaking your head, you decide to feed Shinobu’s curiosity. “It's just, Sanemi got so mad at me. I finally wake up after days, and the first thing he does is berate me.” You rant. It felt good to be able to talk about this.

“Well, Shinaguzawa does have the emotional intelligence of a brick. That doesn’t excuse his actions, but it does explain them. So, do you plan on forgiving him?” Shinobu asked, wondering how you’d answer.

That question was harder to answer the longer you thought about it. You wanted to forgive Sanemi, but what he said was hurtful. Even if he wanted to protect you, could you forgive him for saying those things?

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to, but I still feel so hurt.” A pang of sadness shot through your chest.

Shinobu looks at you with a look of sympathy. Setting a gentle hand on your shoulder, she stands up. “I’m sure he’ll come around eventually. Even if he won’t admit it, he’s pretty soft towards you.” She chuckled.

A few days passed, and you had fully recovered. Tonight would be your last night in the butterfly mansion. Packing your things, the door to your room slides open. Turning around, Sanemi stood in the doorframe. In his scarred hands was a parcel wrapped with twine. He looked as if he were nervous.

And truthfully, he was. He could fight waves of demons and not break a sweat. But emotions were a whole other ballpark for him. There’s a long, awkward silence as he stands there. He clears his throat a bit before speaking. “Can I come in?”

You reply with a silent nod. Sanemi moved to take a seat on the bed. You sit next to him, though a bit far away. For a moment, it’s like he hesitates before offering you the parcel. “This is for you.” He said quite bluntly. “I know it looks like shit. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

Taking the parcel and unwrapping it, it was filled with food. Fried meat and vegetables topped over a bed of rice. On the side, there was also a few ohagi. The knife cuts were sloppy, and the ohagi was misshapen. The food was clearly homemade.

Before you could say anything, not even a thank you, Sanemi began to speak again. ‘I want to…apologize. I know crappy lunch and words won’t fix anything I said. Seeing you hurt made me lose my shit, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Sanemi, I-”

“Let me finish.” He almost snapped but looked apologetic afterward. “I need to work on my emotions rather than resorting to anger. It’s immature of me. But seeing you on the ground, looking like a corpse,” Sanemi stopped talking for a second, trying to bite back the rage bubbling up. “I want you to have a good life. No bleeding out, no fighting, no demons. But, being a slayer is your life. I can’t just tell you to drop everything you know because I don’t like it.”

His tone gets more tense, almost pained. “I want to work things out, and I hope you can forgive me.”

Standing up, you move to stand in front of Sanemi. You wordlessly wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. The hashira was expecting a slap, any kind of negative reaction. To feel your arms hold him felt like a breath of fresh air.

“I still feel upset with you. And we’ll need to talk about that.” You curl up further into his arms, into his warmth. “But for now, I just want you to hold me.” You had been so lonely during the weeks he avoided you. Even if you were upset, you still loved him.

Sanemi quickly obliges. Wrapping his strong, scarred arms around you. Feeling your soothing heartbeat, feeling that you were alive. Though he was still tense, a wave of relief washed over him. It was okay if you didn’t forgive him now, or maybe ever. At the moment, all that mattered to him was that you were alive.

The two of you would have a long talk. But for now, it was nice to sit in each other presence.

#sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kny x reader #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #x reader

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

Text

Aegon Targaryen*Wrapping Presents

Modern!Aegon x reader

Christmas drabble

Warnings: pure fluff

Masterlist here

"No you're doing it wrong!" You pouted as Aegon tried to wrap the gift for his brother. Keyword being tried. "You need to smooth the side out first,"

"like this?" He asked as he did it wrong again. All you had to do was look at it and he could tell it was wrong. Aegon huffed as he sulked back in his chair, "this is why I buy gift bags,"

"Gift bags are so clinical looking though," you said as you finished tying a bow on your present to Heleana, "this just screams Christmas," you grinned at him.

Aegon rolled his eyes but smiled as he stood up and kissed your forehead, "okay fine but I'm gonna get a drink then try again okay baby,"

"It's alright I can wrap them," you said as you took the paper off of Aemond's gift.

"No," Aegon said as he scooped the gift out of your hand and began to bring it to the kitchen with him, "God help me I will do it I swear," he declared making you laugh at his antics, "You want some hot cocoa?"

"Oh yes please!"

Aegon did kind of wrap the gifts okay. It could have been far worse at least but you were proud of him for trying and glad you didn't end up the designated wrapper upper. Christmas day came and you woke up to kisses being peppered down your face.

"It's too early," you tried to protest but it came out as more of a laugh.

"Cmon I let you sleep in till 9," he pouted as he moved to lay half on top of you as his arms wrapped around your waist, "I wanna do presents," he whined as you groaned, "I even made you coffee,"

"Coffee?" You asked, sitting up slightly, "where?"

"In the kitchen," he grinned making you groan again but finally you gave in and got up.

You ended up sat by the Christmas tree with Aegon after a quick breakfast in the kitchen. He had already put on the new hoodie you'd got him, which you were definitely going to steal from him, and was buzzing about the new gaming head phones you got him plus the sticker pack you got so he could decorate his laptop and pc with them.

"You're turn," he said as he reached under the tree. The night before he'd put your present under it but he refused to let you even be in the room when he did and made a makeshift blanket barricade around it so you couldn't see.

"Ta da," he grinned and you gasped slightly when you saw the first box, "did it all my self,"

"Aegon it's beautiful," what you hadn't known was after failing miserably at wrapping his families presents he stayed up all night doing yours.

The boxes were wrapped in a vintage Santa wrapping paper with a thick green ribbon wrapped perfectly around and tied into a neat bow. "You have no clue how long that took me," he laughed.

"Aww I feel bad opening it," you pouted.

"Cmon do it! Tear that bitch open," he said, doing a drum roll on his thighs as you tore into the perfectly wrapped gift to get an even more perfect gift from the most perfect boyfriend.

Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @jmii722 @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-joxie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @clairacassidy @valeskafics @jacesvelaryons @starkleila

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #modern Aegon Targaryen #modern aegon #modern aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #modern hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones x reader

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gojoroui · 4 months

Note

hello everything is fine? If requests are open I would like to know if you can write headcanons for the blue lock boys (isagi, rin, barou, chigiri and bachira) with a female reader who is a famous volleyball player? (if it doesn't matter if accepting this request could make the reader look like the female version of satoro gojo from jjk?) Thank you in advance.

W/ FAMOUS VOLLEYBALL PLAYER

cw. established relationship, blue lock x fem! reader, headcannon, reader is a famous volleyball player, reader is kinda like gojo?, definitely not proofread

note. i sat in my chair for 5 hours for 5 days straight just pondering what to write 😭 anyhow, im good :) my apologies for the delay and lack of info — i didn’t know what to put and im so so so unsatisfied :( i hope you still like it!

isagi is a very supportive boyfriend when it comes to you. buying tickets and going to your games — he’ll often times get spotted at the end of games to hug and congratulate you. you both enjoy teaching each other your sports — soccer and volleyball — it always ends with a few bruised knees and hands, but you two will do it nonetheless. in the end, you two pretty much mastered each other’s sport. even though he’s not as tall as the average volleyball player — for men — he is still very skilled. he probably gives the tightest hugs when you run up to him and tell that you won — how supportive. hence, he literally gives the best princess treatment ever; he will give you a bath, cook you dinner, buy you the most expensive clothing and jewelry, it goes on.

rin and you are quite a couple to behold. because you two play sports, you both are very tall and well built. although when you wear heels, you look way taller and older than him. rin mostly stays outside— away from the crowd during your games, but he’ll always be there once you’re finished to support and show his love. you sometimes tease him about — making him rolling his eyes. since your famous, you often have cameras around you when your in public — rin likes to avoid being on screen at all times. and you notice that — talking to your manager to lower the possibility of cameras recording you. on most days, he seems quite impatient to get home, behind this is that he wants to see you and see you practice — with you hair tied up and sweat rolling down your face. but he’s always give you the best treatment once your done.

barou is selfish when it comes to your appearance. he likes bragging to his friends about how lucky he is to have someone tall and beautiful as you. during games, he occasionally shouts and screams — it’s his way to support, gotta understand that — he loves you that much to scream in a crowd and say “i love you! i believe in you!” a supportive boyfriend, although doesn’t find much in the sport you play. but he still helps you practice no matter what!

chigiri helps you prepare for your game and you do the same. he’s a pretty fast - learner and definitely enjoys playing volleyball. he makes a few mistakes here and there, but you help him improve — which ends with a skilled chigiri. he obviously joins your game and cheer for you. unlike the rest, he like sitting from the stadium and watch as you smile and celebrate with your teammates. you end spotting him staring at you — making him blush. at the end of the day, you both enjoy a warm bath and meal. enjoying each other’s company and presence.

bachira is your biggest supporter. the second you tell him that you play volleyball, he goes crazy and starts bombarding you if you could teach him how to play. they’re questions, but he makes no room for that and his questions turn into statements. in the end, you give in and teach him to play. you’re quite impressed to see how easily he went from being a complete noob to a professional. maybe a little too happy once he knows how to play — ends up buying multiple different volleyballs and even a few nets to play in your backyard. he’s definitely the first person to arrive at your game, getting the best seat to watch you. cheering and clapping while he watches your graceful steps. literally a child running up to you and hugging and congratulating you.

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masonreds · 3 months

Text

mason mount x reader

theme: angst & smut

word count: 9.5k words

Why you had agreed to this, you had no idea.

Even now, as you say across from an uncomfortably blank chair, every part of your body is screaming at you to run. To run away. To run the few blocks to the nearest train station and get the hell out of here.

To get away from this terrible, horrible, very bad idea.

Your attention was drawn again to the time on your phone. With the glaring 7:28, you knew that there were exactly two minutes left until the agreed time of 7:30 PM, and as soon as that time came, you would set off a timer for a generous fifteen minutes.

If he wasn’t in this chair across from you at 7:45PM, sharp, you would give into your body’s response and bolt.

And then that would be it right? You’d be able to put everything that happened into a box sealed with a pretty little bow, store it away to be forgotten and move the fuck on.

You could deal with that.

At least you’d hope so.

You checked your phone again.

7:29PM.

The waiter comes back to your table, dropping the two glasses of water, some bread and butter, a bottle of wine to share between the two of you and two wine glasses.

You probably shouldn’t have done it.

Would it send him the wrong message?

No. There’s nothing wrong with being polite. Be the bigger person.

Besides if his taste buds has somehow changed in a month and a half, and if he wanted something else to drink he could order it himself once he showed up.

That’s if he showed up.

Immediately after the waiter turned his back on you, you reached for the wine bottle and your glass, pouring yourself a glass of wine and took a huge gulp, trying to mentally prepare yourself. Trying to remind yourself that despite what you were feeling, you did have the upper hand here, and you could leave at any time you wanted.

You checked your phone once again as you put your wine glass down on the table.

7:30PM.

He gets a generous fifteen minutes and that’s it. You remind yourself sternly.

The second that thought formed in your head, the door to the restaurant flew open and your eyes betrayed your attempt to stay calm in all of this, immediately your eyes found Mason entering in a rush.

You continued to watch, keeping your expression blank as he weaved through the tables to get to you, sitting down in his seat with a hushed but rushed ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t think the traffic would be so bad, and my Uber driver took his pleasant time coming and-’ he got an Uber because he knew he would be drinking. He fancied a drink.

‘Breathe, it’s fine.’ You say gently, interrupting him.

Mason exhales, taking off his jacket and letting it hang of back of his seat. His hand went through his hair to ruffle it up slightly, then he finally looks at you.

Your stomach twists.

Shit.

You were worried about this. You managed to get over him - well, about 78% over him, at least - but you were worried that the minute he gave you his full attention, the minute you looked into his eyes, you’d be pulled back into his orbit and it would be like the last month and a half you’d spent trying to get over him, your relationship, and all the memories tied up in between, would have been for nothing.

His expression, falters, and the instant smile that spreads across his face when you manage to maintain eye contact longer than a second is brilliantly bright.

‘Hi,’ Mason breathes. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘You’re technically right on time,’ you counter, then lower your gaze to the glass of wine in front of you, trying to look anywhere but at him.

He was annoyingly perfect, you can’t deny that.

His eyeliner follows yours, and there’s a look on his face which you instantly recognise, you can only describe it as fond as it takes over his face. ‘You ordered for me?’

‘Just the drinks,’ you clarify. ‘The waiter said he’d be back to take our orders once you were here.’

‘Well,’ he says, looking into your eyes, ‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’

You shrug, not really considering it as a big deal and he leans toward clasping his hands on the table when he takes a deep breath and says, ‘Thank you for agreeing to meeting me here. You have no idea how much it means to me.’

You assess him a little, and when you find he’s being sincere, all you can do is nod. There’s still a ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. You just never know what he’s going to come out with.

Mason can clearly sense this, can sense that you’ve been keeping yourself at a a distance, he moves his chair forward, ‘I know things didn’t necessarily end well, and I wanted to apologise for that. I wanted to talk this out. Talk about us.’

You nod again, because he said this when he called you out of the blue this morning, but it’s what he comes out with next that nearly gives you a whiplash.

‘I want to give this another shot.’

You blink. Partially stunned.

He wants to what?

This is not what you expected him to say, at all.

When he called, said he wanted to talk about everything, you assumed it was for closure, assumed it was so they could maybe finish the half angry conversation you had the day you broke up, when he called it quits and walked out.

You hadn’t been expecting…this.

‘You…what??’ You manage to stutter out.

He nods, grabbing a bread slice and a butter knife, spreading a thin layer of butter on it. Making sure he does it for you first then himself - a habit of his now, you’d think this is all completely normal now.

‘Yeah,’ Mason says, gaining confidence with each word he speaks. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that day. About what you’ve been trying to tell me this whole time, and you’re right. I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend to you. I didn’t put you first, I took advantage of you, got scared, and when it mattered most to you, I couldn’t give what you needed, but that’s not true anymore.’

He puts a bread slice on your little plate in front of you, then goes about making his own, continuing on like you’re not sat there staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock. ‘I know I said a lot of things. Horrible things. Things that I didn’t mean. And I know I can never take it back, but I hope I can at least try to make things better?’

Watching you, Mason takes a moment, gauges your reaction. You realise he’s waiting for you to say something, but the only thing you can manage to say is a small ‘huh.’

Mason swollows the lump in his throat, ‘I uh, I know there’s a lot of information to take in right now, and I know I have a lot to explain to you, but I wanted to at least put all my cards on the table as to where I’m coming from.’

It’s all a bit too much, and you feel like your body malfunctions a bit, your hands coming up to stop him from talking any further. ‘I’m sorry, I just need a second to process this.’

He closes his mouth, nodding, watching you closely, eyes getting a little wide as you grab your wine glass again to take another large gulp, nearly downing it, before reaching for your buttered bread slice and taking a bite to calm your nerves. You both sit there, Mason watching you, and when you finish off your bread a couple of minutes later, you manage to gather some courage, you hesitantly meet his gaze.

‘I don’t understand.’ You say. ‘You want to get back together?’

‘Yeah,’ he says a little sheepishly. ‘I would like that.’

When you don’t answer, or return his smile, it drops a little, only reaching the corners of his mouth. ‘Unless you don’t want that?’

You grab your wine glass again, this time downing the last of it and trying to gather all your thoughts.

This was definitely a lot to take in.

You certainly hadn’t been prepared to discuss getting back together with him. Even though there was a space in your still recovering heart that desperately ached for the prospect to be with him again, to go back to that little slice of paradise you two had managed to carve out for yourselves in winter last year.

But that was gone now.

You’d worked hard in the last month and a half to convince yourself that this, you and him, your relationship and any chance of it coming back was gone.

Because it was.

You had fought, explained that you loved him but needed a little more from him, wanted more from him. He had fought back, said things, called it quits and then walked out because that’s what he said he wanted. And if he was willing to go that far, you needed to believe it was what you should want too.

You were right to worry about meeting him for dinner.

I should’ve left at 7:25, you curse yourself.

‘I don’t know, Mase.’ You say, honestly. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

The smile that had been lingering at the corner of his mouth slightly disappears. ‘What’s not a good idea?’

‘Any of it,’ pushing the words out of your mouth with a tired breath. ‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’

Mason’s quiet for a moment. You can’t read the expression on his face, can’t work out what he’s thinking or he’s feeling at this right second. It’s a little daunting, seeing as how you used to be able to read him like a book.

But trying to erase him from your mind when you were broken up meant forgetting, and you'd clearly managed to forget more than you originally thought.

Mason staring at his untouched glass of wine, nodding. ‘Okay.’

You raised an eyebrow in suspicion. ‘Okay?’

He nods, pulling out his wallet before calling the waiter over to ask for the bill. The conversation was over from his end so there was no point in staying any longer if you weren’t going to change your mind. ‘Yeah, okay. I can respect that.’

You can’t help but stare at him, only a little confused.

When he called you out of the blue this morning, he seemed eager. He said he wanted to see you, have dinner, and talk to you about something important. You could practically sense the adrenaline running through his veins, could hear the hard thuds of his heartbeat over the phone. The problem is that you knew Mason was always the type of guy who was mature enough to take no for an answer and who always respected your decisions, but this morning it seemed like he wasn't going to take no for an answer either, so you had every right to be confused.

Deep inside you kind of wanted him to fight for you.

‘Come on,’ he says gently, placing the money that was more than enough to cover the drinks you ordered and bread for starters. You immediately stopped him, wanting to pay your half, it wasn’t fair that he had to pay. But Mason stopped you.‘Mason, at least let me pay half-’

‘I asked you out so I’m paying, end of,’ he insists.

Mason stood up, extending his hand out to you as a kind gesture, ‘I’ll call us taxi,’

With a moments of hesitation you could tell Mason didn’t like by the flex of his jaw, you placed your hand in his, accepting his help as you stood up. Together, you both put on coats/jackets, gathered your things, and exited the restaurant.

You follow Mason outside, a little confused when you only saw one taxi arrive a few minutes later waiting in the cold. Mason instantly recognises that look on your face. ‘Did you think that I’d let you go alone in a taxi at this time of night? Ain’t no way.’

You didn’t have any time to respond because Mason was already walking towards the taxi, opening a door for you before he shut the door and walked around to the other side and got in sitting beside you.

‘Do you want me to stop the driver to get you something to eat?’ He offers, ‘I realised I dragged you out of there, but you didn’t properly have a chance to eat yet.’

‘No, I’m okay,’ you assure him, lying a little. You were starving, but his choice of conversation curbed your appetite quickly.

‘Are you sure?’ He offers. ‘I can get the driver to stop at a pizza place or something?’

You shake your head, ‘No, thank you. I just want to go home.’

The rest of the drive is silent, the radio playing in the background. You keep your eyes locked on the window, refusing to acknowledge Mason or his constant fidgeting. You know it’s a sign that he’s got something to say, probably wants to bring up your decision, or maybe insist on dinner, but thankfully, he keeps his mouth closed.

Once the driver gets to your apartment building, Mason tells the driver to wait for a second so he can drop you off at your door, he’s probably doing the most but he just wants to make sure you get in okay.

He’s escorting you inside the building, and following along with you in the lift like he always used to.

‘Always got to make sure my girl gets in safely,’ he used to say when you used to scold him about this before. ‘I need to see it with my own eyes.

When you finally reach the front door, you find that you just want him to leave, and can’t seem to get him out of your hair quick enough.

You reach for your keys in your bag, fumbling a couple of times trying to get that stupid thing into the lock.

‘Let me get it,’ he offers, reaching for your shaking hands, but you snatch them away before he can touch you, taking a step back.

‘I don’t need your help, Mason!’ You nearly shout, almost regretting it when you take in his expression.

Almost.

‘Hey,’ hurt lacing his voice as he frowns. ‘I was just trying to-’

‘I know!’ You sigh out, frustrated and exhausted. ‘I know what you were trying to do, Mase. I appreciate it.’

‘Then what’s the issue?’ He asks, hands gesturing between the two of you.

‘I thought tonight was about getting closure Mason, not getting back together!!’ You exclaim. You fall back against the wall close to your door, head thumping gently back against it. ‘It took me by surprise and now I feel like everything is upside down.’

‘It doesn’t have to be!’ He counters, just as infuriated as you. ‘It can be simple, it can be easy, if you just let me-’

‘Why would I let you say anything to me?’ You snap.

‘Because I still love you!’ His confession takes you by surprise, and he crowds into your space, the heat coming off of his body in waves. ‘I love you, and I want this. I want us back, and I just want this to work out.’

You can’t find the words to say for a small moment, taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes, and how he’s behaving like nothing happened. ‘After the way you spoke to me when we broke up? After the things you said?’ That seems to shut him up. ‘You really think you deserve another chance?’

At your words, Mason could see the wall you were slowly building up to keep him away, to shut him out and push him away for good. If he wasn’t upset before, he definitely was now. He feels so close to boiling. He is angry, yes, but not at you, never at you. At himself. He presses his hands on either side of head, resting on the wall he had your body pressed up against so many times before.

Before, when he’d bring you home, press you against this wall by the door and make out with you for what felt like hours, before eventually dragging you inside when you could hear people coming up the stairs or when the lift dinged.

But now, he was so livid, so fucking angry with himself that he felt like if he tried hard enough, he could push his hands through the wall.

‘Don’t shut me out.’ He pleads. ‘I know what I said was awful, but-’

‘No buts.’ You respond. Your tone was dry, your eyes empty. You were looking right at him, but all Mason felt was numb.

‘Baby, I want to make you understand but-’

‘No buts.’ You repeat, a little firmer, a little louder. ‘Everytime you say but it negates everything you said in front of it.’

He didn’t realise he was looking into your eyes, until you cleared your throat bringing him back to reality. He wishes he could’ve stayed in that moment. Wishing that he listened to his gut all those months ago and didn’t take this risk.

The risk of losing you.

He was so sure all of this would’ve ended up with him breaking your heart.

But you were breaking his.

‘Baby,’ he chokes out. ‘ I just didn’t think that I could be what you needed back then. I didn’t think I was good enough for what you needed.’

‘But if you loved me, you would’ve at least tried.’ You reason.

Mason shakes his head, ‘I do love you. I’m in love with you. I just didn’t want you to get hurt, can’t you see that? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful, you’re perfect, so perfect it makes my chest ache.’

‘Is that why you called me clingy?’ You say, with no expression on your face, recalling his exact words the last time you saw one another. ‘Is that why you said my emotions were too much? Why you said I was asking for too much? Is that why you said it felt like I was suffocating you by asking for more? I’m so perfect that it makes you feel sick just being so close to me? Is that the ‘ache’ you were talking about? There’s nothing wrong with me now, but you weren’t willing to try to do anything more to be with me back then? Is that why you did all of this? Because the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit you’re spewing right now contradicts that a lot, you know?’

‘I didn’t meant that.’ He pleads. ‘I didn’t, I swear. I just said all of that-’

‘To make me believe it?’ There’s no emotion in your voice or your eyes, no light, no wonder into what you’re thinking.

It’s all my fault, Mason thinks miserably.

He knows it’s his fault, he just doesn’t know what to say. Mason swallows the lump in his throat and doesn’t know where to look before you start speaking again. ‘Well,’ you begin, placing one palm flat on his chest. ‘Congratulations. I do.’

Even though it seems like he is putting miles between you both, Mason takes a step back. As his hands drop to his sides, he realises that he had the opportunity to touch you and give you one last kiss right then and there, and that he most likely will not get the chance to again.

‘You were right.’ You state plainly. ‘That day, when you said that people show their true colours we should believe them. And I believe you, Mason. I believe all of you. Especially the version of you that you really are. And that version of you? Doesn’t want to be with me.’

Every time you say something to him, he loses a little bit of his fight back and you push yourself off the wall, not even giving him a sidelong glance as you enter your flat and close the door behind you. You have had enough.

Your heart races as you close your flat door to lock it and do everything in your power to avoid collapsing on the floor.

You can not do this right now; you can not cry, weep, or mourn for something that is already happened. But deep down, you still believed that what you had was genuine. You hoped and prayed with all of your remaining optimism that, for one brief moment, this relationship with Mason would allow you to exist outside of yourself and have something real, something tangible. That he would fight for it.

And even that was taken away from you.

And yet, you should’ve known it was all too good to be true. You did know. But you hoped anyways.

You hear your phone ringing from your handbag, and you groan desperately trying to push away the pain of your heartbreak.

You wipe furiously at your face, wiping away tears that threaten to fall while attempting to suppress your emotions. You take off your bag, coat, and scarf and quickly throw your hair into a bun before opening the wardrobe and stripping down, tossing your clothes into the laundry basket, and storming into your bathroom.

Your phone rings again, and you let out a pitiful cry of frustration before storming back to where you left it and pulling it out.

It’s Mason, and his name fills your screen with his messages.

You found your phone towards your bed with and angry scream that just turns into a sob, and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet of your bedroom.

Isn’t this what you wanted, once upon a time? Someone to fight for you, fight to keep you, fight to win you back, to be lusted after, desired.

You weren’t sure you wanted this anymore.

You had dated others, but you never felt heartbreak with them.

You did with Mason though. You felt every crack in your heart. Felt the sadness, the sorrow, the misery.

With Mason, he seemed to make you feel everything and more.

And that’s why this hurt so bad.

Because you felt it all.

You still loved him.

That’s when it clicked.

You still loved him.

Fuck.

It’s hours later, getting close to 11 at night and you’re sipping on your late night glass of wine when your apartment intercom buzzes.

You get up from your spot on the couch to answer it, figuring it’s probably your neighbour two doors down who forgot her keys again which you always seem to have a spare, after a night out.

You press the intercom to speak, saying, ‘you owe me wine for this Eva.’

The voice that comes back is not Eva’s

‘It’s me.’

You nearly drop your glass of wine, with the amount of wine you had tonight it was quick to rush through your veins and to your brain quickly, and you’re pressing the intercom again before you can register what you’re doing.

‘Mason?’

‘Yeah, can I come up? I was hoping we can talk again. I didn’t like how I acted earlier, and i-’

You’re pressing the buzzer to let him some up before he can finish his sentence, not necessarily needing or wanting to hear the rest. The last thing you need is for anyone to spot him outside your apartment building at this time of night.

There was a small part of you that was grateful that you had a shower after you little breakdown you had after getting back from the restaurant. Although now you regretted putting on the silky tank top and shorts set.

Definitely can’t open the door wearing that.

You quickly put down your glass of wine on the coffee table, quickly running to your wardrobe, grabbing any clothes that you see first so you change.

But the doorbell rings.

You could stall and could change anyways but you didn’t need him lingering outside your apartment any longer in case your neighbours spotted him.

So instead you walk over to the door and opening jt to find Mason stood there, in grey joggers and a grey hoodie to match the joggers, his hands in his pockets and his hair a little damp and messy as if he’s been running his hands through it.

You step aside, allowing him to come inside, taking his shoes off and placing it next to yours like he’s done many times before. You shut the door behind him, taking your time to lock it while you’re catching your breath.

He goes to sit on your couch, the pauses halfway there.

This was where it happened. In your living room.

Where you fought, he broke your heart and left like he did nothing wrong.

Deciding you also don’t want to sit on the couch, you walk past him, leading him into your bedroom. It’s probably not the best idea, but it’s the safest alternative.

You sit at the edge of your bed, and Mason leans against your wardrobe, feeling too agitated to sit down.

‘I’m sorry.’ He starts. ‘For how I acted earlier, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I had a right to come back after I acted like a dick.’

You shrug, ‘it’s okay.’

Mason shakes his head. ‘It wasn’t. Also it wasn’t fair of me to ask you to dinner without you knowing the intentions behind it. Dropping that at dinner wasn’t fair either, and I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.’

You nod and let Mason carry on, ‘I realise I have no right to ask anything, and no right to ask for the space to explain myself, but I’d like to, if you let me.’

It takes you a second, but you already know your answer before speaking the words. ‘I’ll let you.’ You say softly.

This conversation has the beginnings of closure to it, and no matter what direction it goes in, you need to hear what he has to say if there’s any hope to either move past this, or move on from him.

So you just let him talk.

Mason takes a deep breath. ‘I was feeling a lot of things that day. Frustration over the season, how it ended, and then stuff with the surgery as well as contract talks. And you were there every step of the way, and I appreciated it, I really did. I guess I felt a little overwhelmed? There was so much to do and say and I felt like I needed to be alone for a second, just to breathe.’

He takes another breath, his eyes furrowing as he tried to recall how it was for him back then, trying to say the right things the right way. ‘You weren’t clingy. You weren’t suffocating me. You weren’t too much, and your emotions weren’t too much. You were always enough, you were perfectly fine. I know you just wanted to be there for me, to support me and help me through what I was feeling, but I’ve never had anyone do that for me before. Everyone is been with before just sort of left me to deal with it on my own.’

Mason sighs, giving you a look. You’re sitting there listening to him intently, giving him your full attention like you always used to, allowing him the time and space to gather his thoughts and feelings.

When his gaze becomes too much, you find yourself tearing away, staring at the floor of your bedroom instead. It stings, Mason realises, not having you look at him like that, but he accepts it, knows he deserves it.

‘I didn’t know what it felt like to have support like that.’ He explains. ‘I wasn’t used to it, and I was wrong to think even for a second of you wanting to be there for me, or you wanting more from me once things got better, was just you wanting my attention, or you wanting anything other that to remind me that you loved me and that you were there to help me, but that you also had your own needs, and that they weren’t being met.’

He sighs, disappointed in himself. ‘You poured all of yourself into my cup, and I couldn’t return the favour when it mattered most to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner, and it shouldn’t have taken a month and a half to come to you and apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing, walking away, but I can see now that it wasn’t. And I’m selfish enough to admit that I don’t want to let you go.’

There’s a quiet sniffle from you, and Mason feels his gut twist uncomfortably. ‘I understand you don’t want this,’ he says. ‘If you don’t want us. I know I was a dickhead to you, I know I took too long to get my shit together and tell you what a piece of shit I was, and i probably still am. I still meant what I said though. I do want us. I want you. And I know I’ll have to work hard to get you back, and I will put in the work, I swear it to you, if you’ll still have me.’

Another sniffle, but no words came out. He can see you wipe your tears away.

His heart breaks at the sight of you.

‘Please, baby,’ Mason says softly. He gazes down at you, from where you sit on the edge of your bed, and wishes in his head that you’d just look at him. Even if it was just for a second, even if it would be the last time.

You shake your head softly, his lips beginning to pout, your bottom lop starting to tremble and Mason feels like a knife just plunged into his heart.

He takes a step forward, until he’s close to you as he can be without touching you. He drops down to his knees, and notices there’s tears starting to well up in your eyes, he decides he has to touch you to comfort you. He doesn’t want to sit there just watching you cry.

Carefully, Mason reaches up with both hands, cupping your cheeks, and wiping gently at your tears with his thumbs. ‘I’m so sorry, baby.’ He murmurs.

You let out a shaky breath. ‘It’s-’

‘It’s not fine.’ He insists. He applies gentle pressure behind his hands as he turns your head to face him. You blink when you meet his gaze, more tears falling onto Mason’s thumbs, and he wipes them away. When they keep coming, he lowers his hands a little and leans forward, gently kissing the tip of your nose, then the spots under your eyes, kissing your tears away.

‘Tell me what I have to do, baby.’ He pleads, moving closer, rising up a little on his knees to rest his forehead against yours. ‘I’ll do anything, I swear. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need.’

There’s a small shake of your head, and he can feel you beginning to relax into him. ‘I don’t know.’

Before he can reason with himself if he should do it, if he’s lost the privilege to, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. He’s surprised when instead of shoving him away, or refusing his kiss, you kiss him back.

He can feel your hands move to his arms, gently pulling him forward, and he kisses you again, moving between your legs when you open them to press the two of you together. As the kiss deepens, he wraps one arm around your waist, banding the other across your back so he can gently grip the back of your neck, and your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, your ankles locking at the base of his spine.

A small gasp escapes Mason when he feels you grind yourself against his covered abdomen, and the hand on the back of your neck creeps upward, grabbing a fistful of hair. At the tug of your hair, you moan, and Mason feels his whole body light up with electricity.

He murmurs your name against your lips, presses kisses there, to your chin, your cheek, working his way down to your neck, sucking little bruises into the skin. He releases your hair, trailing his hand down your arms, moves to your collarbone, leaving little nips and bite marks as he goes, all the while you keep trying to tug at his hair to get him back to your lips.

Mason accepts without a protest, your brain going blank when your soft tongue grazes over his lips, and he accepts it, cupping the back of your head and sucking on your tongue lightly. Then, he’s pulling back just a little to kiss your lips, sucking your bottom one into his mouth, and then pulling it between his lips as he pulls away. You loosen your grip, but keep your hands in his hair, running the curls through your fingers.

‘I’ll do anything.’ Mason repeats the words against your skin, his hands running down your front, settling on your hips. Picking up from where he left off on your collarbone, he presses a sweet kiss to the skin before sinking his teeth in gently, enjoying your little moans of surprise before using his tongue to satiate the little pain from the wound. ‘Anything to make you forgive me.’

He starts to work his way down, leaving a trail of kisses on your chest, pulling the strap of your top off of your shoulder before pulling the neckline down, exposing the top of your breast and immediately sucking the skin into his mouth, hard.

You let out a small whine, arching your back and pressing further against his mouth, your hands tightening their grip in his hair and Mason groans.

He tugs at the hem of your top, and you both part for a small, torturous second, for you to all but tear it off, flinging it somewhere to your bedroom floor before his lips are immediately back on your skin, his hands cupping your breasts in both palms, kneading them in his hands before sucking on one nipple, then the other.

‘I’ll do anything to have you again,’ Mason begins, your nipple caught between his teeth. ‘To make you mine again.’

He rises up on his knees, his tongue purposely swiping over your nipple, your chest, your neck, and as he goes, your core throbs as you watch his tongue glide over your skin before he tucks it back into his mouth.

‘I’m so fucking sorry baby,’ he says when his mouth releases your skin. ‘I’m so sorry.’

His eyes lock onto yours and you meet his gaze straight on, watching, waiting, until he tilts his chin just so and you meet his lips, kissing him once, twice, three times before he presses his whole body against yours, hands disappearing from your breasts to cage your body against his once more.

His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roaming over your bare back before sneaking into your hair, grabbing a fistful at the nape of your neck and pulling your head backwards. He chases your mouth, biting your lip as he pulls away slowly, trailing his lips down your chin and then latching onto the particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hard.

You moan in response, can feel his tongue massaging over the spot as he continues to suck, and a sharp but delighted hiss leaves you when you feel his teeth scrape gently against the spot. His lips release you a moment later, and he eyes the blooming hickey with pride.

‘Never should have let you go,’ he murmurs, and then Mason’s arms move, releasing you from his caged embrace so his hands can coast down your sides, settling on your hips as he continues to leave bruising kisses on your neck, fingers dipping into the waistband of your silk sleep shorts.

‘Can I take these off of you?’ He murmurs against your collarbone, and you nod, lifting your hips just so, and Mason wastes no time in tearing the material down your legs and off of your body, flinging the things to some spot in your room.

Mason eyes your exposed pussy and can feel his heart thump against his chest. ‘God I missed you, missed seeing your pretty pussy every day.’

He moves to place his arms under your thighs, to pin them up next to you so he can devour you, right where you’re glistening and wet for him, but then you’re grabbing at his hoodie. He thinks you want it off, so he complies, tearing it off and throwing it to wherever the rest of your clothes are, but then you’re beckoning him to you, reaching for him with your hands, and he smirks a little.

Mason presses a kiss to your pretty glistening heat, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. ‘I want to taste you baby, it’s been so long.’

You shake your head, a crease forming between your brows as you reach for him. He goes easily, reaching up to smooth that crease away beneath his thumb, and you cup his face, laying back on your bed and pulling him with you.

He climbs onto the bed, moving you both up the mattress until your head is resting on your pillows. He places his hands next to your face, propping himself up so he doesn’t crush you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pressing the two of you together as you kiss him, squirming beneath him like the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

‘It has been too long,’ you say in agreement, lips ghosting over his as you speak. He can feel you trying to use the heels of your feet to push the band of his sweatpants down. ‘I need you now, Mase.’

‘Okay baby, okay,’ repeating the word as he pushes his joggers and boxers down just enough to free his cock, feels it throb once it’s pressed between the two of you, resting against the soft skin of your belly.

An excited noise trills from your mouth as you reach between you both, lining him up with your slick folds and grinding against him. The feeling is overwhelming, blinding Mason as he shuts his eyes and groans, rocking up against you, delirious with the friction. ‘Condom?’ He asks belatedly, trying not to choke on his breath when the head of his cock nearly catches on the entrance to your pussy.

You shake your head emphatically, watching completely dazed as Mason reaches a hand between the two of you.

‘No, I want to feel you raw.’ His head swims at your statement, and he dips a finger inside of you, then two, collecting the wetness before bringing his coated fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. He groans, cock pulsing again as he grinds against you.

You reach for his face, chasing his mouth for a filthy open mouthed kiss that he’s happy to give to you.

‘Had to taste you,’ he explains. ‘Couldn’t wait another second.’

‘Need you now, Mase.’ You breathe against his lips, and he nods, pulling his hips back ever so slightly until the head of his cock rests against your entrance, and then he’s pushing forward, sliding inside of you slowly. Your breath catches in your throat, and Mason can’t look away, can’t stop watching the way your eyes glaze over before they roll back into your head.

‘That’s it baby, take my cock.’ He praises, eyes casting down to where he’s pushing inside of you.

You take every inch of him perfectly, as you always have, and once he’s fully inside, Mason gets in close. He’s on his knees, positioning his thighs under your own to both keep you propped up and open to him, and to keep himself close to you.

Your body is overcome with the white-hot pleasure of Mason's thick cock squeezing into you, squeezing your eyes shut. Your back is broken in an arch, your mouth is open in a silent cry, and your fingers are entangled in the sheets beneath you. Your body is responding as though you are experiencing it for the first time since you took him so long ago.

You’re so focused on his cock, on how full you feel, that you can barely register that he’s speaking to you, calling for you. His voice comes back to you as pleasure ripples through your body.

You inhale sharply, chest heaving, gathering air in your lungs as you can feel your body begin to adjust, the blinding pleasure of him being buried inside of you starting to replace the stretch and pressure of his welcomed intrusion.

‘That’s it baby, that’s my girl.’ He praises, thumbs caressing your cheeks as he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. His abdomen drags against your clit, and your eyes squeeze shut.

His hips move like that once, twice, three times before your orgasm shoots through you like a rocket. It’s so sudden, so unexpected that Mason nearly loses his pace. He has to bring his hands to the back of your knees and pin your legs down so he can continue to drive into you, flexing his hips and fighting past the tight squeeze of your pussy on his cock, fucking you through your orgasm just the way you love as you cry out.

Your name falls from his lips, completely dazed as he watches you. Your cry out into a whine, your grip on him loosening a little, and Mason bends his head to kiss you, laughing softly as when your eyes slowly blink open as he pulls away.

‘Good baby?’ He asks, and you can only manage a small nod in response.

Mason loves you like this. Loves when you go soft under him, loves that you trust him to make sure he takes care of you like this.

‘More,’ you beg, and Mason nods, bending once for another open mouthed kiss, his tongue dragging over yours before you part.

‘Love it when you come for me,’ he says against your lips, moving his hips so he can fuck you with slow strokes. ‘Have to fight my way in every time, just to keep fucking you, just to make sure you keep coming all over me.’

‘Mase!’ You cry out, his hips driving into that spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

‘You’re gonna deny me this?’ He asks, a slight taunt to his voice, but you can hear past it, can hear the plea in his voice, the desperation. ‘You’re gonna take this away from me baby?’

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the question. It’s no use.

While you were alone after dinner, you’d had way too much time to yourself, to think, to overthink, to mull over every single second from the fight, to the break up, to tonight, to slamming the door in Mason face.

You knew, somewhere in your heart, that you’d already forgiven Mason before he came back. That whatever his excuse, whatever his reasoning, you’d forgiven him for what had happened.

And it wasn’t until he came back asking for a second chance that you realized you’d give him that, too. You’d give him anything he asked for.

Because you loved him.

He drove you insane, but you loved him.

And you hadn’t erased him out of your life, not really. No matter how much you tried to pretend like you had.

Maybe it was your greatest flaw, but you were too forgiving of a person.

And you didn’t want to deny him, not anymore.

‘Answer me,’ Mason demands through clenched teeth, pressing down on the backs of your thighs as he begins to drive into you, merciless and desperate. ‘Am I going to have to fuck you like this is the last time?’

He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust, pushing a choked sound out of you as your pleasure starts to build and twist.

‘I want to hear you say it,’ he orders, pistoning in and out of you. You can only watch him, stunned.

It was no secret he was gorgeous. But only you got to see this, this moment where he looked like a god among men.

The sweat at his hairline, the pinched look of concentration, the veins along the muscles in his arms straining as he holds you down, holds you open so he can fuck you the way he knows you like, the way he pleases you best. The way his eyes flame as he watches your every move, tracks your face so he can be sure he’s bringing you nothing but pleasure.

‘Tell me,’ he insists, bending his head a little to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, and you don’t miss the way it still sounds like a plea. ‘Tell me you’re mine.’

You nod, brows pinching together as the delicious drag of his cock brings you higher and higher, closer to your next orgasm. Mason can tell, knows exactly what you need, but he won’t give it to you.

Not yet.

‘You don’t get to come again unless you say what I want to hear.’ Mason says, slowing his pace to emphasize his point.

A whine sounds in your throat, and he laughs a little, resting his forehead against yours. ‘I know baby, I know. I know exactly what you need, everything you need. In this bedroom, in this bed, and outside of it. I know everything that you need and I promise I’ll give it to you. But I need to hear you say it. Need to hear you tell me what I want to hear.’

You can only manage a whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, the way it feels like you can feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you. Mason shakes his head at your broken noises. ‘I know it feels good, baby, but you can do it. Use your words, pretty girl.’

‘I’m yours.’ It comes out as a whisper at first, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock, the friction of his solid abdominal muscles against your clit as he writhes against you slowly.

‘You’re mine?’ He repeats, not even trying to hide the bit of disbelief in his voice, the uncertainty. ‘Yeah? You’re mine? Look at me baby.’ Your eyes lock onto his, and he holds your gaze as his hips grind into you. ‘Are you mine?’ He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust. ‘Am I yours?’

You nod again, crying out ‘Yes!’ when he starts to fuck you again. His pace is unrelenting, his hips unforgiving as he moves, driving his cock in and out of you, consistently hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see the sun, the stars, the moon, the whole galaxy with each thrust.

‘Tell me what I need to do.’ He says to you. You blink lazily at him, lost in the way he fucks you, and he crowds his body in closer, dropping your thighs and cupping your face in his hands, using the muscles in his hips to fuck you deep, grinding his cock into you some more.

‘What do I need to do baby?’ Mason asks again, voice a little softer. His words are loaded, multiple meanings behind the question, and you know what to say to answer them all. He waits as patiently as he can, his mouth locking yours in a deep kiss as you start to squeeze down on him. He can tell you’re getting closer, can tell you’re right on the edge, but he still needs to hear you say it.

‘Need you to make me come.’ You answer finally, lips brushing against his as you speak. He nods, forehead brushing against yours from where it rests. His hand snakes between you both as he circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to the sensitive bud. Your back arches up in response, moving further into his touch.

‘Come for me, pretty girl,’ Mason pleads, keeping his hips in time with the circle he’s drawing against your clit, swallowing your cries with a kiss. ‘I wanna feel you come for me again.’

Mason’s orgasm hits him like a freight train and he groans out loud, doing his best to keep his eyes open so he can watch every second of you coming all over him. His cock pulses, his come spilling inside of you in thick ropes, and he can barely breathe as your pussy squeezes around him, like you’re trying to pull him deeper inside of you.

When your orgasms subside, Mason goes to pull out of you so he can lay beside you, but your legs lock around his waist, and you pull him down to you, taking him by surprise with a sweet and gentle kiss. That gentle kiss morphs into the both of you making out lazily, you winding your hips, grinding against him while his cock rests inside of you.

You both remain like that for what feels like hours, but is probably more like fifteen minutes straight, Mason cock getting hard all over again, and you can feel your arousal slowly returning, ready for a round two, if needed. Eventually, Mason’s lips trail lazily from your mouth to your cheek, chin, neck, shoulders, collarbone, moving across your chest to reach your other shoulder, other side of your neck, and so on then back again, leaving kisses in each place as he goes.

After a little while longer, your post orgasm high subsides a little and your head starts to clear bit by bit. When you manage to come back to yourself, you realize Mason’s been murmuring his apologies into your skin, over and over, only pausing when he gets back to your lips, then resuming his apologies as his lips follow the little trail he’s made.

On what you think is his eighth loop around, you tangle your hands in the curls near the nape of his neck and tug a little, removing his lips from their place against your shoulder, dragging him to your mouth and kissing him again.

You roll the two of you so he’s on his back, his now half hard cock still nestled inside of you and your thighs bracketing his torso. Mason’s hands rest on your hips as he looks up at you, his lips a bright pink from all of the kissing. He looks dazed still, like he isn’t sure if this is all real, then his brow furrows, and regret slashes across his features.

He moves his mouth to form another apology, but you rest a single finger against his mouth, shaking your head softly.

‘I know,’ you tell him. ‘I know you’re sorry, baby.’ Slowly, you start to wind your waist, watching Mason’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and trying his damndest not to thrust up into you. There’s a hiss that leaves his mouth when you squeeze, and a harsh breath is punched out of his lungs.

‘I’m sensitive pretty girl,’ he says, definitely not half hard anymore. Mason can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are joined together, where he can see his own come starting to drip down his cock, watching as you fuck it back into yourself as your drop your hips down.

‘Just need one more.’ You promise, can already feel your body chasing after the next orgasm as you move.

Mason nods, pupils blown wide as he watches. ‘Take what you need baby.’

And you do, planting your hands on his chest as you begin to bounce. Your nails dig into his skin a little, dragging them down his pecs and to his lower abdomen, watching in delight as red marks bloom in their wake, Mason groaning out loud, low and deep, his hips bucking up into you.

He always did love it when you scratched him up like this.

‘More,’ he pleads, and you slowly glide your palms back up to his collarbone, digging your nails in once more and dragging them back down in the same path. His body jerks a little when he moans, and then he’s grabbing your hips and sitting up, laying you down and getting onto his knees to fuck you all over again.

Your hands move to his ass, pulling him in deeper, your nails sinking into the hard muscled flesh and dragging up to his waist, and Mason’s thrusts become harder, sharper, and your orgasm rips through you like a lightning strike.

He follows close behind, fucking past the tight grip of your pussy and coming with a hoarse shout, pinning his hips against you as his cock throbs.

You move your hands then, cupping his face and pulling him down to you, allowing him to bury his face into your neck as he tries to recover. You both breathe deeply for a while, heated skin cooling as the time passes. Eventually, Mason presses soft kisses to your neck, then shoulder, before propping himself up above you by his hands.

‘I think we should probably shower, shouldn’t we?’ He suggests to you, and you nod in agreement. He carefully pulls out of you, but when you move to sit up, he gently pushes you back down, eyes glued to your pussy, where his two loads start to slowly leak out. Mason takes two fingers, gathering what’s coming out and pushes it back into you. Your back arches in response, a small hiss pushing through your clenched teeth.

He removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean before leaning over you again, capturing your mouth with his, sharing your combined release.

‘Want some more?’ He murmurs against your lips, and you nod, your eyes locked on one another as he reaches down, his fingers pushing back in, stroking you a couple of times before pulling them out. This time, when he brings his fingers back up, you grab his wrist before he can put them in his mouth, bringing them to your lips instead, sucking them clean. Mason’s eyes flutter, glazing over and you can feel his cock start to come back to life where it rests against your thigh.

Once his fingers drop from your mouth, he surges forward, kissing you again and you both fall back onto the bed, all thoughts of doing anything but making out leaving your minds for the next ten minutes.

Eventually, you manage to pull away, resting a hand on his chest as you part. ‘It’s getting late,’ quickly adding, ‘we should probably shower now, so we can head to bed.’ when you see Mason panic a little, thinking you were going to try to kick him out.

He smiles a little, nodding. He gets up first, reaching out a hand for you to take. Once you’re both upright, Mason looks down at you and smiles a little, brushing some hair away from your face then pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘You go first, I’ll gather up the clothes and get the bed ready.’

You nod with a small smile, heading into your bathroom to pee and start the shower as Mason busies himself with gathering up your clothes, tossing them into the hamper in the corner of your room. He feels his heart thump in his chest at the familiarity of taking your decorative pillows off of your bed, putting them on their designated shelf in your wardrobe, then fluffing the pillows you actually use before bringing your comforter down.

When he finally makes his way into your bathroom, he finds you standing under the spray of the shower, watching through the glass as the water cascades down your body.

A body he almost let go, a body he knows he’s honored to be able to worship again.

He wastes no further time in stepping into the shower with you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in close, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

‘I’ll do better,’ He promises you.

Your hands rub up and down his back in a soothing pattern. ‘I know, Mase.’ Your name falls off his lips in a soft murmur, and you pull away a little, tipping your head back just so to look up at him. ‘We’ll be okay,’ you promise, nodding to reassure him.

He nods back, cupping the back of your head in his hand, resting it against his chest. ‘I know we will, baby. I’ll make sure of it.’

You knew you were always in love, you just needed your stubbornness to let go.

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