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#how out of the blue must that have been? there is no way he thought pat was gonna do that
lilasamaaa · 3 days
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Ignorance is bliss | Max Verstappen x Reader
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Genre | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
Word count | 3K.
Warnings | Brief mentions of sexual activities, panic attack, Max and reader get in a fight.
Summary | Max and you have been dating for several months, and everything is going well. Except when paparazzi start chasing you for no reason. Is your boyfriend hiding something from you?
Author's note | This was requested by @butterflyexe ! Thank you lovely for the great idea! I tweaked it a bit though, so I hope you like it! I loved writing this piece but again, sorry for the crippling angst lmao 🥲 Not proofread as usual, oopsie
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The doorbell of your apartment rings, and you leap off your couch, opening the door and throwing yourself into your boyfriend's arms.
"Oh, wow," Max says, pressing a kiss to your head. "Did you know it was me or do you throw yourself into the arms of everyone who rings your doorbell?" he adds, laughing.
"Of course I knew it was you," you reply, laughing too. "I've been waiting for you all week. And I noted that your flight was landing an hour ago, so it lined up," you explain, taking his hand and leading him to the couch, where you both sit down.
Max looks tired, the bags under his eyes casting blue and gray shades on his pale skin. He moves to lie down on the couch, resting his head on your thighs, closing his eyes.
"How was the work trip?" you ask, playing with his hair.
"It was great," he finally replies, opening his eyes and meeting yours. "Quite tiring, but interesting. It was nice to, erm. See my colleagues again," he says.
"I still can't believe your company paid for the trip all the way to Australia," you whisper as Max closes his eyes again under your caresses. "If I had known the automotive industry required you to travel that much, I would have applied for the job."
Max doesn't respond, simply taking one of your hand in his and gently stroking your knee with the other.
"You must feel so out of it with the jet lag..." you continue, concerned. "It's a good thing they gave you a few days to rest. When are you expected back at work?"
"Not until next week," Max says, playing with the rings on your fingers.
"And you said you're going to Japan after? That's such a weird ass schedule," you say, making him laugh. "I feel like you travel more than most influencers... Or even athletes," you state, making him open an eye.
"Perks of the job," Max says before planting a soft kiss on your lips, and standing up. "Can I borrow your shower?"
"Of course! You know the way," you wink at him, heading towards the kitchen. "I'll fix us something to eat in the meantime."
Sitting at the small table in your kitchen, illuminated by a few candles and the lights of the city outside, Max devours the plate you placed in front of him a few minutes ago. You silently observe him, both fascinated by the man before you and disturbed by a thought that has plagued you in his absence.
"I've been thinking," you start, making your boyfriend look up.
"Yeah? Tell me," he says, covering your hand with his.
"How come I've never been to your place?"
Max stops chewing, his light eyes fixated on yours.
"I didn't know you wanted to?" he replies, brows furrowed.
"Well I've never asked to, but isn't that how it usually works in a relationship? Once at mine, once at yours?"
"I'm sorry," Max replies. "I didn't realize it was important to you."
You suddenly feel guilty and squeeze your boyfriend's hand, giving him a warm smile.
"Forget it, sorry," you say, getting up to rinse your plate. "That was stupid. You're right, we're fine here."
After dinner, you and Max settle on the couch again, watching some show on Netflix. When you notice Max fighting against sleep, his eyelids heavy and his breath short, you grab the remote before turning off the TV. The sudden silence jolts him awake, and you laugh before pulling him by the arm and leading him down to your bedroom. You make a quick stop in the bathroom to remove your makeup and brush your teeth and, when you come back to the room, you find Max fast asleep under the covers. The sight is endearing. You press a kiss on his forehead before settling next to him, your cold body against his already warm one.
The next morning, you wake up alone in a cold bed. A familiar smell tickles your nostrils, and you make your way to the kitchen, your eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Good morning!" Max says, already dressed up, and looking much fresher than yesterday. "I made us breakfast."
"Wow, that's so sweet of you," you say before sitting at the table, taking a hot pancake from the plate in front of you.
"I'm sorry for falling asleep so fast yesterday," your boyfriend starts again. "To make it up to you, I'd like to take you out to lunch."
The offer takes you by surprise, and you stare at your boyfriend, mouth agape. It's been five months since you started seeing each other. Five months since you bumped into him by chance at the Monte Carlo casino while you were out dining with friends. Five months of being inseparable, but also five months of very limited outings. Max travels a lot for work, and you don't necessarily have the means to go out regularly in Monaco. Most of the moments you share therefore take place within the four walls of your apartment, and you're thrilled to get some fresh air with him for once.
"You seem happy," he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.
"I am!" you say, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Where are we going?"
"What about Nobu?" Max says.
"What? Max, that's way too expensive," you reply, furrowing your brows.
"It doesn't really matter, given I'll be the one paying."
"No way," you say. "We're splitting the bill. And I'm not paying three grands for some sushis, as delicious as everyone claim they are."
"They really are. So please, let me do this for you. Just this once? I can afford it," your boyfriend says, making you frown.
His words remind you that you don't know what your boyfriend does for a living. He's talked to you about cars, mechanics, but you're having trouble understanding what kind of job in the automotive industry requires so much traveling around the world. A job that apparently pays very well, given the restaurants he frequents. Realizing there's no point in arguing and not wanting to pick a fight with Max, you simply nod, lips pressed together. However, you're counting on one last point to escape the pricey restaurant and hopefully eat elsewhere. Somewhere more affordable.
"Well, if you insist," you finally say, popping a strawberry in your mouth. "I doubt we'll get a table for noon, though," you add. "I heard you have to book months in advance."
"Don't worry about that," Max says, stroking your cheek. "I need to stop by my place real quick before, can we meet there?"
Two hours later, you're sitting at one of the finest tables at Nobu, facing the sea. The fuck just happened, you think, watching your boyfriend immersed in the menu with a raised eyebrow. How? Before you have time to question it further, a waiter brings two champagne flutes and a bottle in a Nobu-stamped ice bucket to your table before hurrying away, thanking you two profusely for coming.
"Did you order this?" you ask Max, making him look up.
"No, I didn't. That's so kind of them."
"What the actual fuck, Max?" you snap, eyes wide. "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?" your boyfriend asks.
"Did you somehow not notice how everyone's been bending over backward for us since we walked in? I think the waitress behind you hasn't taken her eyes off us for the past thirty minutes. And since when do they bring champagne to people who haven't ordered anything?" you say with a worried look. "Are they confusing us for someone?"
"Why are you so worried?" Max asks, giving you a look that's meant to be reassuring but just looks uncomfortable. "Just enjoy the moment. And the view."
You sit back in your chair, biting the inside of your cheek. Something isn't right. You can feel it. Max adjusts one of his hair strands, and the sleeve of his shirt slips down slightly, revealing a watch you've never seen before. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the model, and when you do, your heart skips a beat.
"Is this a new watch?" you ask, trying to act nonchalant.
"What? Oh, yeah. Bought it in Melbourne."
"You casually bought a Rolex Daytona?" you ask, tilting your head.
"I didn't know you knew about watches," Max says, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
"You don't need to know about watches to know that this model costs almost a hundred thousand euros," you say, eyes boring into his.
The tension at the table has risen a notch, none of you uttering a word. As an anxious waiter places several plates in front of you, you glance around, suddenly realizing something you hadn't noticed before, absorbed in your conversation with your boyfriend.
"There's no one here," you say, still looking around. "It's noon on a Saturday, and the restaurant is empty."
Max sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"I know," he finally says, carefully meeting your gaze. "I wanted us to have some peace."
"What? What did you do?"
"I've privatized the restaurant," he says.
"How did you do that?" you ask, unintentionally raising your voice.
"I paid," Max simply says, grabbing a sushi.
"How much?"
"Several thousands!" Max almost shouts, making you wince. "What's up with all your questions?"
You're completely lost. You don't recognize the man you've been seeing for the past five months. The man who comes to your place by foot, usually in sweatpants, who spends evenings watching Netflix with you. Taking baths with you. Passionately making love to you. You have no idea who this new man is, covered in expensive clothes and accessories, on whom all heads turn and who raises whispers as he passes by.
"Who the fuck are you?" you simply ask, feeling your eyes start to water.
"Baby," Max says, finally realizing how uncomfortable and lost you are. "Please, can we just enjoy the meal? I'll answer all your questions at your place. I'll explain everything, but please. Let's not make a scene," he implores.
You swallow hard, staring at the ceiling to dry the tears in the corners of your eyes. For the rest of the meal, Max talks, telling you about his trip, about his life. You politely answer the few questions your boyfriend asks you, remaining silent the rest of the time. You don't even have an appetite anymore, having swallowed three sushi pieces before your stomach threatened to turn.
At the end of the meal, Max slips a credit card into the folder that a waiter has placed on the table, then adds three hundred-dollar bills. Tip, you think. More than what I earn in a day of work. The price of discretion, probably. The waiter leaves with the folder before coming back, and just as he's about to ask for something, Max shots him a look that makes him close his mouth. Your boyfriend thanks the young man before walking around the table, extending a hand that you grasp to rise as well. You thank the still-empty restaurant staff, giving them a genuine smile despite the anxiety twisting your stomach. Max opens the door for you, and you walk out on the street, thanking him.
For a moment, you curse yourself for forgetting your sunglasses at home, as the Monaco sun blinds you instantly. You blink in surprise, but your blindness persists as Max grabs your wrist and pushes you behind him. You try to open your eyes, but flashes keep assaulting you, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that they're coming from huge cameras pointed just inches away from your face.
"Max?"' you ask with a high-pitched voice, starting to panic.
Max turns around, pressing you against him and covering your eyes as he guides you through the screaming crowd. People push you in all directions, pressing against you, touching your arms, your face, crumpling your clothes. Screaming. At first, you can't make sense of what the voices are shouting, with all your senses being overwhelmed. But suddenly, you hear it. Max. They're screaming his name. Max looks up, and a new series of flashes burn your retinas as your boyfriend holds you even tighter against him, one arm around your shoulders.
"I'm so sorry," you hear him say among the voices.
"What's happening?" you ask, panting.
And, then, you feel it. The panic attack. Even though you've never experienced one before, you immediately understand what's happening to you. You recognize the signs. Your legs give way, and you have to cling to Max to keep from falling to your knees. Your heart rate and breath quicken until they're suffocating, while tears stream down your cheeks.
"I can't breathe," you croak, so weakly that you're not even sure if Max heard you.
"Hang on, baby," your boyfriend says, still walking. "We're almost at the car."
The flashes continue, and so do your tears. Max grips you as tightly as he can, shielding your face, lifting you halfway to help you walk. After a few seconds, the longest of your life, you hear a car door open, and Max gently pushes you into his car before closing the door and jumping in. He wastes no time in starting the engine, cutting through the crowd, disappearing into the alleys of Monaco.
You don't say a word. You're unable to speak. Unable to breathe. Still trembling. Crying. You don't realize it, but Max struggles to tear his eyes away from your body, which seems so small, so battered at this moment. He doesn't speak either, biting his lips until it draws blood. He hates himself. He knows he'll regret making you go through this for a long time. But now, all he can do is explain. Lay all the cards on the table. Something he should have done a long time ago.
The journey seems to last an eternity until you catch sight of a gigantic building, and Max drives into an underground parking. He parks the car and rushes out, opening your door, helping you out. You're still in shock, and Max supports you as he guides you to an elevator. A few seconds later, after twist of his keys, you find yourself in a vast penthouse overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. You don't even have the strength to ask questions anymore. To ask where you are. You sit down on the large couch, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Trying to calm your breathing.
Max watches you, standing at the foot of the couch. Bewildered. Not even daring to come close to you. The two of you stand in silence a few moments, until he finally speaks.
"I know it won't fix anything. But I'm truly, sincerely sorry."
You don't reply, head low. playing with the rings on your finger.
"I owe you some explanations."
No reply.
"I'm a Formula 1 driver."
You finally look up, and the mascara streaks on your cheeks squeeze his heart in the worst way.
"I should have told you earlier. I should have warned you, but I couldn't. With you, I discovered normalcy. Anonymity. I discovered what it was live to have an ordinary life, away from the hustle, the stress, the constant judgment."
"So you knew how precious it was," you say, squinting your eyes. "And yet, you chose to expose me to all of those things."
"I hadn't planned for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen. I tried."
"I can't do this," you reply, feeling fresh tears roll down your cheeks.
Seeing you cry again, Max sits on the couch, pulling you close to him as another sob shakes your body.
"Why?" you ask, crying. "Why did you let me fall in love with the person I thought you were?"
Each of your words, each of your sobs break his heart a little more, but he takes it. He knows your anger is justified. Deserved.
"Because I loved you too. And I didn't want this to stop."
"You lied to me," you say between two sobs. "I trusted you. I trusted you so much."
It's too much. Even for him. A tear runs down his cheek. Max wipes it away angrily.
"If you never want to see me again, I understand. I'll come get my things. I'll erase your number. I won't stand in the way of you living a normal life, of finding love with someone normal. You deserve the best, even if it's not with me."
You hate him.
You despise him for having been himself, his most vulnerable self, with you. For charming you with his awkwardness, his foreign accent, his somewhat strict manners. You hate him for being the perfect man for you. You hate him for making your heart beat so strongly. But above all, you hate him for building your love on a lie, on fragile foundations doomed to collapse and sweep you both away in the wreckage.
"I hate you," you sob, making his heart stop. "And I hate myself even more. For not being able to let you go."
"Baby", he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "If you give me this chance, a chance to rebuild everything with you again, I swear that nothing will ever happen to you again. I won't let anyone near you, anyone touch you. Not even a glance. I will rebuild everything around us. We'll be untouchable. Indestructible."
One month later.
"Are you ready, baby?" Max asks, meeting your gaze. "Once I post it, there's no going back."
"I think so," you say, biting on your fingernails. "Let's get this over with," you add, sitting on his knees while the driver presses a kiss to your neck, softly stroking your leg.
"Okay. Let's do this."
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headcanon: youre a new student at an MMA academy that the tf141 runs.
its just price in this one, but everyone will be present at a later point :))
the first time you walk into the gym, youre all wide eyed and nervous, the world of martial arts a part of your distant past. but with the state of the world you figured that some self defense classes were a necessity, lest you end up battered and bruised in an alleyway somewhere.
When you walk in, the gym is shockingly neat and clean, windows shining and floormats soft and new. you weren't exaxtly sure what to expect, but this was a pleasant surprise.
the prior class was finishing up, children running about and throwing punches at the punching bags scattered around the gym.
at the forefront was a man, broad shouldered and handsome...in a dilf-y sort of way (not that you were complaining!!) with a grin shockingly similar to a quokka, you thought to yourself with a small huff of laughter.
he must be the coach you had been in contact with for a bit to set up the trial class. John, you believe it was?
"ALRIGHT, first person to knock me over wins. You get two kicks each!" John calls out, his voice booming yet kind.
Laughter echoes throughout the gym as the children attempt to knock him down, but he remains still as a statue, evidence of the years of strength he gained.
A few minutes later the class finishes up, and you make your way over (a tad bit nervously) to introduce yourself.
"Hi! Um, I'm here for the trial class, I think I spoke to you over the phone?" you say, sticking out your hand for him to shake.
He smiles warmly, clasping your hand in his and giving it a firm shake.
'That's right, John Price, it's a pleasure. Welcome to Task Force Training Academy, I have a feeling you fit right in. Have you ever done anything like this?" he asks.
"Not...really? I mean, I did boxing for a few months last year but my skills are nothing to write home about. Taekwondo too, but that feels like a lifetime ago," you say with a nervouse chuckle.
"You chose the right class then, kickboxing combines a lot of skills from both of those disciplines," he says, clasping your shoulder in a friendly manner. "You did good," he says, and you feel yourself flush a bit.
"Th-thanks," you say, and wince at the stutter in your words, but John only smiles down at you.
"Do you have any hand wraps? Boxing gloves?" he asks, letting go of your shoulder. Somehow you already miss the warmth.
"I have hand wraps from boxing, but that's it," you say, shrugging.
"That won't be a problem, we have plenty of gloves you can borrow," he says, before you hear a bell ring out.
"Ah, class is starting. Just grab a jump rope for the five minute warm-up," he says, pointing toward the wall where a collection of jump ropes were before taking his place at the front of the room.
Grabbing one quickly, you hurry to an open spot and begin.
~
...5 minute feel like an eternity.
You're painting like a dog in the heat, your face warm with exertion as the timer finally finishes.
"Don't worry," John says with a deep chuckle. It was unfair how velvety smooth his voice was. "We'll get your endurance up in no time."
Somehow you feel your face heat up even further, and glance at anywhere but John's devastatingly blue eyes.
"I have no doubt," you murmur before rushing to put the jump rope back.
"Okay, we'll start out with partner work. Usually I would start with bag work but since we have a new member," he gestures toward you, and you wave awkwardly to the rest of the class, "I thought it might be best to return to the basics. Pair up, and we'll work on the basic punches first. Jab, cross, hook, et cetera. Go ahead," he says, before turning towards you.
"You, my dear, will be working with me. Let's see how much boxing stuck, hm?" he says. "Gloves are over there, grab a pair and we can begin."
"Yessir," you squeak, the prospect of training with the head coach a bit daunting.
"No need to be nervous," he says, nudging you lightly toward the shelves where the gloves were. "I just wanna get a grasp of how much you know, and what we need to work on, yeah?" he says with a kind smile, and you nod before grabbing a pair of gloves to use.
The one glove goes on without issue, but the other glove betrays you. The strap you struggle with, hand motions limited to crab movements as you try to grasp it enough to attach the velcro.
You hear John laugh lightly again as he watches you struggle before he grasps your hand in his, doing the strap for you.
"Thank you, coach," you say, and he hums in response, eyes seemingly lost in thought for a moment before refocusing on you.
"Let's begin, yeah?"
You nod in response, moving to a more centralized area of the gym. You move into the fighting stance you remember, and he nods approvingly.
"Good, that stance is what I like to see. Do you remember your jab?" he asks, and you hesitantly throw out a punch you recall being called a jab.
"There you go. Try adjusting your wrist to a vertical position rather than a twisting out. Its not incorrect, and I'm sure that's how you learned it, but," he explains, grabbing your gloved hand for a moment. "When your punch is horizontal, your wrist wants to take the majority of the impact. Instead, we want it vertically, so that the impact is distributed throughout the forearm all the way down to the elbow," he says, his fingertip barely ghosting down your arm, but it leaves goosebumps in its wake.
You nod, the heat in your face no longer just from exertion anymore. Adjusting your stance, he holds out the pad for you to hit again, and you listen to his advice.
A delighted grin splits his face at the impact.
"Atta girl, you listen well," he says, and you mutter out a "thanks".
Holy HELLS, the temperature in the room felt like it was rising by the second.
In your embarrassment, you fail to notice the slightly smug expression on John's face, your reactions priceless.
Recovering, you reset, glancing back up at him as he nods.
"Again."
a/n: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT BLURB, RAHHHHH. i was supposed to stusy half an hour ago :/ anyway, this fic is purely because i had my trial class for kickboxing today lol, and is almost based entirely on true events :p (though yknow, the coach was not john price and flirting with me, :/)
ANYWAY, i might start a series of this...we'll see what happens :))
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E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series
Part 2
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader
Warnings: Pure Fluff! Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters
Notes: That's right, I plan to make it a series. Not too short, not too long but enough! Benedict has stolen my days and nights and I've been daydreaming too much ngl.
WC: 3.5K
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Humidity has reached its peak.
You cursed quite low as the sweat forming on your lower back created a wave of uncomfortableness and nevertheless, you were putting yet another layer of fabric. Madame Delacroix called it freshening and here you are, the third hour of trying out the fabrics of the newly imported cloth.
"Better than whalebone, is it not mon cherie?"
You looked at Madame Delacroix with the sense of cursing her too but you smiled rather sweetly "Steel you said? It is... better" You felt the structure of the corset, still very fitting and nothing different from the previous ones except for the metal strips on the side.
"Bien, we shall get it" The seamstress nodded and started working immediately and as you stood there; presence made statue and breath made a mere flow you saw people passing, your mother with her pupils dilated as the colours of fabric captured her you wondered if perhaps things could go more easily this season.
A sudden wave of hope filled you at the thought of not having Daphne around, not to confuse it with hate, you love the Bridgertons but the eldest sister made quite a chaos last time that unfortunately even if some pair of eyes landed on you, Daphne and the Duke took most for themselves.
When you returned to your house, adorned with the marble that was polished every morning of every day, you lay on your bed tired of doing absolutely nothing. Looking pretty in a burgundy dress is not a task that burns brain cells.
“Mama” you said with your head facing the ceiling and your legs swinging.
The woman who you were looking for entered the room, holding a cup of tea in her hands and a smile on her face, one that was painted so naturally, one that she passed to you.
“Yes, my dear?”
“May I go to the Bridgertons?”
“Now?” Your mother saw the agony on your face “I want you back before sunset”
“You must not worry” Your heels clicked on the ground as you got up, a smile on your face and the feeling of going to a friend's house instead of spending the day in your chambers “Finally, finally” you whispered clumsily going outside your grandiose mansion and breathing the powdery vs. Pollen of London’s air.
It was a three-minute stroll as you turned the block towards the Bridgertons; ultimately you saw the gates open and the carriage that was waiting outside.
The sun was shining as you looked upwards, the sky a shade of blue that reminded you of the ocean, the one that your father brought you to a couple of summers ago.
You knocked twice and waited for someone to open, a maid appeared and bowed.
“Miss Ashbourne”
“Morning Rose, may I?”
“Please, the ladies are-“
“In the drawing-room, I assume, as always”
“Miss Penelope is there as well"
"The more, the better. Thank you, Rose" With pose you took your dress and tried to walk inside the beautiful almost similar entree of the house but-
"Anthony?!"
You smiled at the voice and before stepping into the staircase you turned around and made your way to the other room; the one that always smelled like oils and wood.
“I believe your sight might be flawed… that or you quite meant I look like Anthony”
Benedict’s eyes lift from the painting, a smile spreading on his lips and you did the same.
“In spirit perhaps” he curved his lips “Forgive me Miss Ashbourne, the angle from this side is not ideal to see who walks around”
“Hmmm that’s alright,” you said stepping into the middle of the room, the tiles stained with long-forgotten strokes “How are you?”
“Not bad at all and you?”
“I could be better, a boring day it is but I meant if you were fine after art school and…” you stopped to see if you were not being impertinent but he seemed to put his wooden palette down and pierced his ears “I mean…”
“That’s kind of you to ask, Y/N” he shrugs “I’m dealing with it well, I’m content with what I’m doing right now and what happened there it was to be enjoyed”
“That’s good,” you said ready to leave the room “Well I shall leave you with your…” your eyes caught the painting, a room adorned with frames and curtains “Beautiful painting”
"Thank you, I'm still polishing it but thank you" He eyes you oh so slowly as he squinted his eyes “Would you like to stay for a while?”
“Oh”
“Come on, I’ve always enjoyed sharing words with you”
"Well..." You said unsure, you didn't want to leave him so fast after the kind words and the invitation, it was rude of you "I would like to"
"Good, you can sit right there" He pointed to the chair and you did what you were told, watching how Benedict moved the easel and the chair behind, you heard a bit of noise as the stool and his tools were put in a table, he sat down and looked at you
"Tell me, I know you’re a debutante this season”
You snorted that the sound made Benedict laugh in return “My days have been filled with the preparations for this season and my mama is driving me crazy because apparently, I don't know how to sit and breathe"
"What?"
“I move my chest too quickly that it looks like I’m always on the verge of an attack, that’s what she says. I never thought controlling my breathing would be a concern in my life but here we are”
How eyes had a mind of their own because they landed very briefly on the straight neckline of your dress and the mounds of your chest and he snapped only to say "She cares about you"
"I know" You shrugged “is just so… boring”
“What? Do you want some drama? Perhaps lady Whistledown-“
“Not the drama inked words can bring” you confessed “I do not know what I want from this season. Last one I was still an espectator and yet the chaos was too much to bear. This time… should I prefer quietness and routine? Or perhaps-“
“A scandal,” he said with a glint in his eyes “I would go for the latter but I'm not you"
"You think it's the right thing to do?"
"No, but I have a reputation to live up to" He smiles and you cannot help but laugh as his shoulders move in amusement "So I am the one to talk, aren't I?”
“Quite indeed you are, Benedict,” you said
“So” he smiled “can you spare some time so I can tell you how I achieved the perspective here?”
“I can spare a day or two”
“That’s real talking”
Benedict has always been keen on you. Your spirit reminded him of Anthony; how sharp and stubborn and your way of talking reminded him of Eloise; how straightforward and full of wit. Every time you found each other alone the conversation flowed like a river; the topics varied and he liked to be surprised, and you liked to surprise in return.
Today he was trying to explain to you how he was working on the perspective and the shading; you didn't understand half the things that were coming out of his mouth and yet you kept your attention on him, it was hard to do so as you saw how he moved his hand to demonstrate or the way he tilted his head with fervour.
It took a gentle few minutes for you to get into the atmosphere you always find with Benedict. The straight posture left your body as you moved your hands from your lap and made your way next to the canvas. Your nose could smell the painting and fresh oil splash on a jar. For all you know, Benedict Bridgerton, the tallest and silliest brother, had a way to make you feel yourself. Indeed with one and twenty years on this earth, you would say you have the closest for at least a solid seven with him: a good friend with good values and good lips, the former an observation you have assembled for the past two years.
“But who says that in the same painting orange and purple must avoid each other?” you asked staring at his fingers and the way he pointed at the canvas "hmmm?"
“You see, my professor said that the tones do not match and rather make the art cheap” he explained
"so" you laughed "if by any chance I decide to follow Lady Featherington's fashion trend and mix orange and purple in my wardrobe... I'll be considered cheap by your professor?"
He smiled looking down and hastily removed the curl from your side and allowed it to frame your face better "He would be mad to even think such a thing but please stay with your beautiful gowns, it makes your skin glow"
You stayed there feeling the pulsation at the back of your neck and the sudden urge to remain silent, the feeling of a blush forming and you were aware.
"Thank you" you whispered and moved away to see the painting closer, your hands behind your back.
"You're welcome" He smiled, not taking his eyes off of you and he saw how you were trying to avoid his stare.
Change the subject. You told yourself.
“Haven’t the styles changed over the years?" you asked out loud and trying very well to follow what your head was ordering "If orange and purple even join each other in the future I would be quite mad that it was not you who decided to pursue such an art transgression”
Benedict felt the most boyish with that compliment that he looked down and snorted all genuinely.
“We will see, I have several canvases ready to be corrupted and you. I mean you?” He smiled “How are your activities?”
Your smile grew large “Let me tell you about this book I’ve been reading, it has six volumes”
“I’m all ears, Miss Ashbourne”
That day apart from receiving multiple comments and opinions from Benedict about the biology books you stole from your father's library, you also received a scold from your mother alas you didn’t return when you were supposed to and you said you were encapsulated with the girls and the tea that tracking time was not good. Lost indeed between the smell of oil paintings and unfinished canvases.
And when debuting finally happened, oh so gracefully in front of the Queen. You smiled when it was over, the simple nod of Queen Charlotte alleviated any woes within your mother. You, Y/N Ashbourne a debutante with an ambitious mama by her side. The season was ready to begin.
A week was when you swore you could not feel your cheeks anymore. You have succeeded and had five suitors calling on you every day. The conversations were just a tad dry like the biscuits served by the Cowpers.
“Tighter”
Your squeal resonates only within you as your ladies tightened the corset and followed, as always, your mama’s orders.
“Tighter”
“Perhaps this is good, I feel like I might…”
“You are good my dear, tighter” your mother nodded
And the last squeal escaped your lips as you saw in the three mirror dresser how up your breasts appeared. After getting ready, with the greatest olive green beaded dress Madame Delacroix could design, you made your way to Lady Danbury’s Ball.
It was a night as expected. Your first dance was with a Viscount. He was old, not very handsome and didn't talk to you, you only nodded. The second was an Earl, you were thankful it was a waltz because it seemed that he was not keen on anything else than moving back and forth. The third much to your dismay and much to other girls’ amusement the Marquis of Ashdown stepped on your poor toes until you were destroyed not by dancing but by being in front of him.
“Quite young is he not?” Eloise said with a macabre smile
“Shush it, El. I am mostly embarrassed, he belongs in a nursery”
“And yet he is wife-hunting” she snickered “Nonetheless I must admit that if you two marry then you’ll downgrade from Ashbourne to Ashdown”
“Incredibly funny you are Eloise Bridgerton”
The night went as expected, everything as expected and nothing to be surprised about.
“Goodbye!” Eloise almost yelled that even you blinked in surprise and her quick getaway made you sense a male figure was coming your way so you turned and saw Lord Coxingworth, with his light blonde hair brushed backwards he requested a dance and finally your toes relaxed as well as your dancing skill made is debut; with such a dancer such as Lord Coxingworth.
“I may say that this has been a refreshing way to end my night” he smiled
“You are leaving?”
“I’m afraid so, Miss Ashbourne. My mother is not feeling fine”
“Oh my, then you ought to leave immediately. Give her my regards and please send me a letter once you reach home. I pray she recovers fastly and hopefully, your journey home won't take too long"
"I shall" He bowed and you smiled. “And I shall see you once this matter is settled. I shall pay a visit next week, Miss Ashbourne. You look gorgeous tonight"
You thanked him and watched how he disappeared into the crowd. It was the last dance of the night and yet your feet did not hurt as much after the success and your mother approved with a single nod.
You made your way to the back of the ballroom where Eloise was waiting with Penelope. Minutes later to what it seemed between giggles and quick banter, you saw a shadow passing and it stood quite tall beside Eloise. Benedict.
“Ah sister; mother is looking for you; something about at least being seeing for five minutes beside a man”
“I must leave too, my mother is…” Penelope distractedly said “She is… bye”
You turned to see Benedict with his pristine and flattened down dressing robe “They left me in bed company”
He acted hurt “ow how sorry I am, they left me with a good-looking girl” he shrugged “It’s a matter of perspective” he stared at the green dress “You look quite beautiful. How was the night, is it true you danced with the Marquis of Ashdown?”
“I fought a war with his feet, that was not a dance”
“Let the poor kid be, you are a fine dancer, better than anyone I know. So? He is going to pursue you?
You smiled “Only if his governess allows him”
He snorted and made a burning sound “Good girl” he sigh “What about Lord Coxingworth?”
“Oh… I think it went better than Ashdown”
“Hmmm”
“He said he ought to see me next week”
“Did he?” He sniffed “I think then you have a suitor then”
“Far from it,” you said and looked around “Before the end of this night I must go into Lady Danbury’s library”
“Are you…” he smirked, “Sneaking and stealing yet another book?”
“She once said I could take advantage of her collection”
“yes, only if you are inside the house” he debated with a laugh
“And I am not?”
“But you will not. You’ll get the book and leave the house with it”
“And…” you stood quickly on your tips “if no one sees anything… no one has to know”
He smiled and shook his head but formed an O with his mouth when he saw how swiftly you moved away from your spot. The beads on your dress shifted with you, the curls on your back bounced at the pace and he, the only accomplice in such a furtive task, joined you.
“Perhaps it is better to go back, they might be expecting us”
“Oh nonsense,” you said with the thirst for that book you knew Lady Danbury had, your hand turned the knob and your eyes sparked at the dark of the room that held the shadows of all the books “Eureka”
Benedict stood behind you, a small smile on his face as you searched for the book.
His eyes, like a thief, looked at your curves, the ones the dress did not hide and tried but also sneakily -in the theme of the night- to capture a glance of your oh-so-fast-moving chest your mother thinks you have.
“What is the book?” he asked
“A collection of poetry, not known, written by I believe anonymous people”
“Huh, controversial. Have you read other compilations?"
“Not now but if this one is good, I will try to get a hold of more… unusual editions. This one has the most beautiful cover and I can't help to imagine what it's about"
"I see" he whispered, his voice a bit deeper as his eyes landed on your face
"Do you have a problem?" You turned around to see his eyes were not on the shelves
"No, no, not at all. Let us do something. Open the book on any page and read it out loud. Let us judge it, not by the cover but by one page and one page at all”
You smiled widely at the idea and nodded, you moved around to be in front of him, your left shoulder leaning against a bookshelf allowing yourself to feel more relaxed.
“Alright then…” you cleared your throat and questioned where you could split the book, the beginning, the middle or the end. As your long fingers traced the last page, you told yourself that knowing the ending might ruin the whole thing even if it’s a poetry book “Here” you blindly said and split the book “Let me…” you cleared your eyes amidst the dark room
"In halls of opulence, where high society reigns,
A love forbidden, amidst whispered refrains.
She, a maiden of humble birth, with grace and charm untold,
He, a nobleman of lineage, with wealth and power bold.
Their hearts entwined in secret, amidst societal divide,
Forbidden love's sweet agony, where passions dare to hide.
For in their world of privilege, where status reigns supreme,
Their love is but a whisper, in a world of stifled dreams.
Yet in the hush of moonlit nights, beneath the stars' soft gleam,
They steal away in shadows, where love's light doth beam.
For in their hearts' defiance, they find a love divine,
A bond that knows no boundaries, in a world of rigid line.”
Your eyes darted up to look at him, you didn't expect his eyes to be already on you. His eyes had a certain glint, an emotion you could not pinpoint and as you waited, he cleared his throat.
“That was such a heartfelt piece” he nodded
“Very sad,” you said “I wonder if this person wrote it while going through it or wrote it as a memory of what once was”
“Knowing this world we live in, the latter”
“I enjoyed it” You closed the book and smiled at the cover, you could see the outline of the letters, “I’ll keep it for a while”
“Only if you read some to me too, if I have shared this task I shall share the prize”
You giggled “What a prize, a poetry book”
“Time with you I would say,” he said very quickly in a hoarse voice that he didn’t know he could do
Your heart did a thing, it beat hard and quick but also slow and you felt it was going to be out of your chest.
He was not expecting an answer and so he said "Let's get out of here"
"Yes, let's"
Once outside the room and with the book hidden in your dress, Benedict looked both sides of the hallway and gave you the thumbs up and you both made a run for it, a run for the stairs and to the exit door.
And there you stood, with the cool air hitting your face, with a smile so bright Benedict had to squint his eyes, the laughter came, loud and uncontrollably.
"Miss Ashbourne" He said once the laugh died, the joy in his eyes were still present "and I called myself a bad influence once did I not?”
“I learnt from you, Benedict”
It was the sound of his name coming from your mouth that made him shiver. He didn’t know how or why he felt such a pull. Such desire and such attraction. Unequivocally you were beyond what a diamond could be, the face of an angel he confessed but the natural and free aura that you radiated since he had memory is what made him be there with you at most times.
He didn’t know how it happened but he found himself quite close to your figure, under the night sky, he could see the warm lights crashing against your right side and the darkness hiding the left one.
“What is the name of the book?”
He asked such a simple question but with so much passion that if you were not wise enough to understand the tone, you would have thought he felt compelled to have the book right now.
You blinked at the soft wave of his brandy breath and saw the eyes that stared down -because of the height- and how intrigued he looked.
“Entwined”
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Smoking with Price
F!/AFAB!Reader x Price fluff piece. Word count 2.7k (oops it got away with me) Warnings: Weed and Cigar smoking, alcohol mention(brief), Soap is a menace, a little angst, happy ending.
Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3
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You met on a riverside patio in a pub in Hereford.
Him nursing a large measure of whisky and a fat cigar. You with a soft drink and a fat spliff perched between your lips.
It’s balmy, bloody Mediterranean your grandfather would have said, as you exhale a heady cloud of smoke from your lungs. The cheap tobacco aftertaste heavy on your tongue as you feel the buzz brewing deep in your chest. You hate how the UK smoking culture always cuts weed with tobacco, but that’s your fault for buying pre-rolled.
“Fuckin’ hell,” you hear someone groan behind you, the heavy thunk of the patio door follows soon after the stranger’s grunt of disapproval.
“Sorry,” you say flatly, not really caring for the wanker’s comfort when he’s likely to just be coming out here to rapidly huff a few Lambert & Butlers – worse yet, Sterling Super Kings – before going back to the poor girls he has been dry-humping against all night.
“What’re you apologising for?” The gruff voice asks as you turn over your shoulder to address him.
“Thought you were bitching about this,” you say as you wave your dominant hand back and forth, spliff caught between your index and middle finger as the orange tip glows angrily against the darkening sky. You don’t know if it’s the high or the fact you haven’t gotten laid in months, but the moment your eyes connect with him you’re done for.
He has eyes like blown glass, bright blue with an intensity that makes you feel almost shy beneath his gaze. His beard is thick but well kept, despite clearly being able to grow it full, its styled into a heavy set of mutton chops. On anyone else it might look comical, but he isn’t anyone else.
You know you’re staring, but he’s not shy either. Those baby blues raking up and over you as he clearly fights a battle in his head over whether or not to join you. You don’t mind the pause, the indecision, it gives you a little longer to ogle.
He’s broad, like ridiculously wide with strong shoulders that pull at the seams of his white t-shirt. You never thought you were into body hair, but here you are practically salivating at the way his chest hair teases up out of his collar. His khaki cargo shorts sit low on his hips and your eyes are drawn to his thick calves. His hair is thick there too, prompting you to wonder how hairy he is elsewhere-.
“Christ, no, didn’t even see you there.”
Ouch.
You meet his gaze as he cringes, clearly realising how abrupt that sounded.
“Sorry,” he starts but you shrug him off, bringing the spiff back to your lips to take a long drag, trying not to grimace as you fully realise how high the tobacco to weed ratio in the blunt really is.
“S’okay, don’t owe me shit,” you say with a shrug.
“My mother raised me better than to make a beautiful woman feel dejected,” he says, voice softer now, almost sultry, as he settles a metre or so to your right. A respectable distance. He pulls a white tube with red detailing from his pocket, you smile at the familiar sight as he pops it open to reveal a hefty cigar.
“Going to give me whiplash with that turnaround, soldier,” you scoff as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You look over the banks of the Wye, unsurprised at how high the river is this after the recent rainfall. You can just about make out the cathedral on the far bank, it’s an oddly romantic scene.
I must be fucking baked.
You think to yourself with a coy smile as you’re jolted back to the here and now as the stranger speaks again.
“What makes you think I’m a soldier, love?”
“A hunch,” you say with a smirk as you turn to face the handsome man, you’re not going to give up your secrets so quicky.
“Oh?” he smiles right back as he pats his many pockets, looking for a lighter, “Enlighten me?”
“You’re not local,” you start as you watch him grow more frustrated, the furrow in his brow endearing, “At least, not in the traditional sense, accents all wrong,” you say slowly as you reach into your pocket for your own lighter.
“Go on,” he grumbles as he looks to you with a silent plea for help etched on his face. You toss him your lighter as you tease your spliff back to life, you caught it just before the last embers had died.
“Your choice of smoke is the dead giveaway thought, you’re not stuffy enough to be one of the local rich pricks, so it’s soldier or hipster,” you say with a breathy exhale as he rests the cigar between his plush lips. You swallow dryly as you look down to see your glass empty.  
“Good observational skills,” he says with a smile as he ignites the lighter, “I’m committed to this the moment I light up,” he warns as he takes your lighter from your outstretched hand, “Fancy sticking around and keeping this old Captain company?”
“Fuckin’ knew it,” you smile in triumph as you nod, “And yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.”
He cocks his head to the side for a second before nodding in appreciation, he slowly lights the cigar, fingertips gently rolling it around to get the right heat distribution. You’re mesmerised as you watch him work.
“Thanks,” he says softly, his fingers brush yours as he gives you back your lighter. You pocket it without a word. There’s a tension churning in your gut as you try not to get your hopes up.
“Want another round?” He asks as he finishes the amber liquid in his glass, “I’m buying.”
“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you nod as he passes you his cigar.
“For safe keeping, you’re welcome to some if you want,” he says with a wink before heading back into the pub. You’re left to your thoughts, as you try to decide if you should shoot your shot with him or not. You’re desperate for a good lay, but there’s something about him that makes you want more than that. You’re not sure you could deal with the bitter aftertaste of a one-night stand with him with no promise of seeing him again.
You shake off the creeping negative thoughts as you refocus on the here and now, you place the cigar between your lips and take a short, tentative puff. It’s rich, the flavour coating your tongue with warm woody notes and hints of coffee.
You’re warm, fuzzy even, as you imagine what it would be like to kiss him. You wonder if he would taste like the cigar trapped between your lips as you take another slow, savouring pull. Or would he melt on your mouth like the rich, peaty whiskey you assume he drinks. You can make believe, even if you may never find out.
You hear the patio door open and close once more, you’re about to make a silly quip about getting back here double time when you hear an unfamiliar Scottish lilt in place of your cockney companion.
“So, you’re the reason Price is rushin’ to get out of his birthday party.”
You snub out the last dregs of your joint on the ashtray as you try not to snort at the Scot. First a man with mutton chops, now one with a mohawk? You couldn’t make this shit up.
“Price?” You ask a little fuzzily, the high blurring things around the edges a little as you try and connect the very obvious dots, “Oh, you mean John?”
“Oh, la-dee-dah, he’s given you his name and his cigar, that’s practically betrothal right there, lass,” The Scot barks out a laugh as he flops back against the low wall, grinning at you like a Cheshire cat.
“Respectfully,” you roll your eyes as you bring the cigar to your lips but don’t take another drag as you eye up the objectively attractive man, “I’m not interested in the dick waving, negging, or whatever this is.”  
He’s in jeans and a Metallica t-shirt, he’s similarly strong and broad to Price, with ice-blue eyes. You wonder scathingly if the SAS has a beauty standard these days.
“Ouch,” He groans, clutching at his heart as if you’d physically wounded him, “I can see why he’s so giddy, he likes them feisty.”
“Alright, piss off,” you grumble, mood souring at the overly familiar ribbing from the stranger, it screams of boys will be boys or some other misogyny-riddled play. Sending the asshole friend out to rile you up so Price can sweep you off your feet, big strong Captain to the rescue.
“Ah, hen, I didn’t mean t’ upset you,” he starts but you can’t shake the ick, this was a mistake.
“Save it,” you say as you rest the cigar on the ash tray, “Asshole.”
“Fuck,” you hear the Scot groan as you slip down the side steps that lead down to the near bank of the river.
Maybe it’s because you’re high and a little jumpy, but you’re not in the mood to be toyed with. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that thinks you overreacted, that the Scotsman maybe came on a little strong but meant no harm.
But you’ve already made the impulsive decision to leave, following the river back towards your Air BnB where a cold shower and a lumpy bed await. You feel stupid, but know you’ll feel worse if you walk back to the pub now.
Made your bed. Now lie in it.
You scold yourself inwardly as you slow your pace from an angry lurch to a pitiful bimble. You’re walking for a while before you realise you should have gotten back to the red back door of the riverside property you’re staying at already. You pull out your phone, bringing up the address of the Air BnB on Maps. You watch as the GPS calibrates and your stomach drops.
You’re going the wrong way.
You’re rooted to the spot, caught between the river and the prospect of trying to navigate the winding residential streets of Hereford. You know Uber doesn’t operate in the area, and you don’t fancy tracking down one of the Beryl Bikes to cycle back through the small town. You know it’s a straight route from here to the property if you just suck it up and risk being spotted on your way back past the pub.
“Fuck it,” you grumble to yourself as you turn back around, power-walking back the way you came, knowing it’s the logical, and most direct route back to your accommodation.
You’re passing back by the pub when you hear the commotion, you almost ignore it, but you hear John’s voice loud and clear.
“She was nice, Soap, did you really have to scare her off?”
You pause, hidden from view above as you see John leaning back against the balcony wall where you had been only minutes before. His back is turned to you as he chews out someone further in on the terrace - you guess the Scot from before.
“I’m sorry, I was just havin’ a bit of fun, didn’t think she’d scarper like that,” he admits and you think you hear remorse in his heavily accented lilt.
“Well, you thought wrong, fuckin’ hell,” John turns around at the last minute, just as you’re about to leave and his eyes meet yours in the murky gloom of dusk. You smile up at him before forcing yourself to walk on, a small part of you hopes he follows you.
“Goin’ for a walk, I’ll deal with you later,” you hear him as you maintain a casual pace, the sound of the river gurgling in your ears as you breathe in the cool night air.
It doesn’t take long for John to catch up to you, a gentle call of your name giving you pause as you wait for him to level with you.
“Hey,” he says with a sigh as he keeps a respectable distance, “Sorry about Johnny, he’s… full on.”
“Johnny?” You laugh, “You SAS boys share names these days?”
“Just a funny coincidence,” John says with a shrug as he matches your pace, “I am sorry though, truly.”
“Appreciate it,” you hum as you look ahead, not trusting yourself to make eye contact, “But I’m not fucking you tonight, I hope you know that.”
“Reasonable,” he chuckles, “Can I at least walk you home?”
“Sure,” you shrug as you feel the flutter of excitement deep in your chest.
“So, you local, or?” He asks as you see the amber glow of his cigar in your periphery, the taste still lingers rich and heavy on your tongue from earlier.
“Just visiting,” you say as you spot the red door up ahead, dread forming in the pit of your stomach as the inevitable end of the night looms over you. John doesn’t press further, and you feel a little dejected as you realise, he may have just been being nice.
 “Well this is me,” you say as you pause at a small wrought iron gate, “Walk me to the door?”
You bite your lip, it’s cheesy, but you’re grasping at any extra time you can here.
“Sure,” his lips quirk up around his cigar as he opens the gate, holding it for you as you slip past.
His presence behind you as you ascend the short flight of stairs has the hair on the back of your neck standing up.
“Thank you for walking me home,” you say softly as you linger on the stoop, John hovering on the top step as he looks from your lips to your eyes in a brief flash. Blink and you would have missed it.
“Any time,” he says as he plucks the half-smoked cigar from his lips, “If you’re free tomorrow night, I’d like to take you for a proper drink.”
“Bold of you to think I’m interested,” you smirk as you take half a step towards him, “But yes, I’d like that.”
He lets out a heavy exhale and your cheeks burn with giddy anticipation as you realise he is interested after all. You blame the weed for making you double and triple guess him.
“Can I get your number?” You ask as you pull out your phone to see a message from Kate, you swipe the notification up as you pull up your keypad. John inputs his number and you play out the dance of calling the number to give him yours.
“Tomorrow night then,” John says as he pockets his phone, already turning to descend the steps back onto the riverside.
“Hey,” you call out, fingers circling his wrist as you pull him back to look at you, his deep blue eyes go wide as you fawn up at him, “Happy Birthday.”
You cup his jaw with your other hand and pull his lips against yours. You gasp at the way it feels, like electricity sparking between you as he places his free hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as he holds his cigar to the side.
Your lips slot together like you’re made for one another and you have to muster every ounce of self-control not to deepen it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips before slipping from his grasp.
He watches, dumbfounded, as you disappear inside, his cheeks rosy and lips wet as he chuckles to himself. He whistles merrily to himself the whole way back to the pub, messaging you on a whim, wishing you a good night.
~*~
The next morning, John is making his way into the briefing room, distracted enough that he runs into a person he doesn’t immediately recognise.
“Sorry,” he grunts, “Didn’t see you there.”
You turn with a grin on your face as you recognise the sound of his voice.
“Morning Captain,” you say with a wink as you revel in the awestruck look on his face, “Hope you had a good night?”
Smoking a J with Simon Smoking with Soap Smoking with Gaz Smoking with Kate Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3
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morganski-19 · 3 days
Text
The One With Mother’s Day
Eddie trips out of his room, rubbing at his eyes, to answer the door. Someone choosing nine in the morning on a Sunday to knock very loudly on their front door.
“Yeah,” he says blearily as the door swings open.
“Eddie, it’s so nice to see you again.” Karen Wheeler says from the other side of the door. “I remember Nancy saying that you moved in with her about a year ago.”
Eddie tries to blink the tired away. “Mrs. Wheeler, hello. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming to visit.” He steps out of the way so she can enter the apartment.
She walks in and stands awkwardly in the walkway between the kitchen and the living room. “Well, I didn’t know I was coming here until this morning. Is Nancy home?”
“You drove all the way from Indiana to here, that’s quite the trip. And yeah, she’s probably up, hold on a second.”
“Well, it’s been forever since I visited Nancy, and I thought since it’s Mother’s Day, I might spend the day with my daughter. My other kids are either too busy with school or too far to drive so suddenly.”
“Yeah, uh huh,” Eddie mutters as he knocks on Nancy’s door. “Hey, Nance, you up?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
Eddie looks back at Karen with a polite smile. “Could I come in for a second?”
“Sure,” Nancy responds suspiciously.
Eddie quickly opens and shuts the door behind him. “Your mother’s here.”
Nancy sits straighter in the chair by her window. Shutting her book and placing it on the small table beside her. “What. She didn’t tell me she was coming.”
“She apparently didn’t even know she was coming until this morning. It’s at least a five-hour drive from home.”
“She got up at four in the morning just to come visit me. Why?”
Eddie shrugs. “Something about Mother’s Day and her other kids being too busy or something. I don’t know. She looked, ok? Like every other time I’ve seen her. But like, with that crazed fluster she would get when Mike’s friends were over, and your dad refused to get off of that lazy boy he had.”
Nancy rolls her eyes. “This could go one of two ways, and I’m not sure either of them will be good.”
She gets up and heads to the living room. Where her mother still stands, hands rubbing together anxiously. “Nancy, I’m sorry to show up out of the blue, I didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night with a phone call.”
“That’s ok,” Nancy says with a partially fake smile, giving her mom a hug. “Eddie said you just drove here this morning, you must have left pretty early.”
Karen shrugs. “Yeah, well, you leave early enough, you miss all of the traffic. And the highways are so nice to drive on when no ones around. But, anyway, how are you doing, it’s been a while since we talked.”
“Pretty good. Just working a lot, trying to be able to write something other than stupid tabloids and junk articles. But mom-.”
Eddie groans in the kitchen, opening the empty coffee container. “I’m going to rob Steve and Robin’s for coffee.”
“Ok,” Nancy replies as he shuts the door.
“Steve and Robin still live across the hall,” Karen smiles. “That’s so nice. Do Jonathan and his college friend still live across the street?”
“Argyle,” she reminds. “And yes, they do. Mom-.”
Karen claps her hands. “Oh, I am starving. Why don’t we go out to breakfast? You know, catch up, my treat.”
“It’s Mother’s Day, shouldn’t it be my treat?” Nancy eyes her mother skeptically. Wondering why she really showed up out of nowhere. Got up in the middle of the night just to have a surprise visit.
“Just spending the day with me would be a treat. Go on, get ready, I’ll just wait out here.”
Nancy nods and returns to her room.
-
When Eddie uses his spare key to go into Steve and Robin’s apartment, he expects them both to be asleep. Robin never gets up before noon if she doesn’t have to, and Steve always has the weekends off, so he should be relaxing. Instead, Steve’s sitting in the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear and fingers pinching his nose, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. He barely notices when Eddie enters the apartment.
“No mom, I haven’t seen her since college.” Steve sounds utterly exhausted. “Because we never really talked then either other than that time you came to visit me. Maybe because I’m happy being single. It’s a perfectly respectable job, and I love it. I didn’t want to work with dad.” He sighs as his mom drones on about something. “I didn’t call for this, I called to wish you a happy Mother’s Day. You know, it’s late where you are so how about I let you go. Love you.”
Steve hangs up the phone, placing it face down on the table and letting his head fall into his hands. He stays like that, frozen.
“That didn’t sound fun,” Eddie breaks the silence. Spooning a serving of coffee into a plastic bag.
Steve huffs out a laugh, fixing the glasses on his face and sitting back on the chair. Crossing his arms and shaking his head, avoiding eye contact. “Oh you know, just normal chats with my mother. She can’t go one conversation without trying to set me up with some rich family’s daughter she knows.”
Eddie winces. “Never a nice rich boy in that mix.”
The glare Steve gives Eddie is tired and chilling. “What do you think?”
“I’m sorry.” Eddie sits across from Steve. “Sounds like it sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” Steve sighs, looking at his phone. “I love my parents, I really do. But sometimes it’s hard to. Especially when they keep trying to set me up with people I don’t even know or get me to change careers. I just wished they respected me more than they did.”
“They should, you have a job you love and so what if you’re single. That’s a pretty great deal if you ask me.”
Eddie’s phone dings.
Nancy: Me and my mom are going out for breakfast
Eddie: Cool, have fun
Nancy: I will try
“If it makes you feel any better, Nancy’s mom showed up unannounced and now they’re going out to breakfast.”
Steve’s eyes widen. “Like she drove here this morning?” Eddie nods in confirmation. “That’s not good.”
“Yeah, I know. Still don’t know why she’s here.” Eddie’s stomach rumbles. “God, I’m starving.”
“I haven’t eaten yet, you want to go get something? Unless you have somewhere else to be.”
Eddie smiles. “I do not. Let me get changed, I’ll meet you in five.”
-
Nancy thanks their waiter when he brings them their food. Silently piercing the yolk of her egg and watching it run over to her hashbrowns. Karen talking for the both of them.
“Have you talked to your brother recently? Him and Will are settling in well over in New York, their place looks nice. Small, but nice. I’ll have to take a trip out there some time to visit them.”
She just nods along to her mother’s ramblings. Watching as she pauses to take a bite and just continues. Always dodging around the subject of why she’s here whenever Nancy tries to ask.
“It’s so nice that they’re still together after all these years. Not that being alone is anything bad. I miss the single life. Well, I never really had that much of a single life. I met your father in high school and that was that. Part of me wishes I had a few years to explore, like you did. Get to live life before having a family.”
“Yeah,” Nancy interrupts. Coldly. “Why are you here mom?”
Karen looks taken aback. “Is it wrong to visit my daughter?”
“No, it’s not. But you’ve never just drove here on a whim. There was always at least a phone call, booking a hotel stay. Not waking up at four in the morning one night and deciding to drive five hours to come visit me.” Nancy softens her face. “This isn’t like you, what’s going on?”
Karens mouth twitches as she places down her silverware. Fiddling with her napkin. “You know how it was you father’s and my anniversary last week.”
Nancy nods, listening.
“Well, he forgot, again, and I didn’t want to make the plans again this year. I wanted him to surprise me like he did when we were young. With none of the kids in the house anymore, it gets kinda lonely me and him. When I asked that morning, he scrambled to make plans but couldn’t get a reservation anywhere until last night. Where we basically had a silent meal, paid, and left. No surprises, no anything.”
“I’m sorry, mom. I know how dad can be with the romantic stuff.”
Karen sighs. “Any stuff. If it wasn’t me doing everything, nothing would get done. We haven’t even slept in the same bed since Mike went off to college, and that was years ago. I thought maybe we could try and rebuild what we had. Guess I was wrong.”
Nancy frowns. “I didn’t know that.”
“How could you? You never really came home once you graduated, on to bigger and better things. Not that I blame you, I am so proud of you and the life you’ve built here. I just, didn’t want to bore you with the problems in my life. In my marriage.”
“You could have. I would have listened.”
“I appreciate that.” Karens pauses, closing her eyes. “I’ve decided to leave your dad, Nancy. That’s why I came out to visit you.”
Nancy can’t say she’s surprised. “I’m sorry, mom.”
“Don’t be. I haven’t been happy in years, we all knew it was coming. I just don’t know what I’m going to do now.”
“Whatever you want,” Nancy smiles. “You get to do whatever you want. Go back to school, get a shitty part time job. Get back out there and find a man you deserve. Find new friends, anything. You get to build a new life.”
Karen smiles, tears shining her eyes. “Well, that’s all true, I guess. Thank you for not judging me for this.”
“I never would.” Nancy goes back to her breakfast. “So, what else would you like to do while you’re in town. I have tomorrow off too.”
“I don’t know. But I am excited to find out.”
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,
@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,
@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,
@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,
@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369
@my2amgaythoughts
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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 days
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jaunes got a lot of self loathing and issues, do you think that would affect him as a dad? dp you think it would bleed over till one day his kids think they are the problem?
I don't think he'd ever make it so his kids thought they were the problem. Jaune in my head is a metrosexual, kind, and empathetic man. But he's also brutal when it comes to himself. I think his kids would know they are the most precious things in the world to him.
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I was right about birth. 
I really hadn’t wanted to be but I was right as I watched Weiss struggle and push and blood and other liquids came out. 
I was right about birth.
It was a horrific thing. And Ruby stared for a moment before rushing over and taking Weiss by the hand while I loomed nearby with my arms folded. 
I’d done this. It was a terrible bloody struggle to bring new life into this world. I’d inflicted this on Weiss casually in a way. I mean a lot of thought had gone into it but this was all happening because I came inside her one time. And that was pretty fucked up. 
Blood poured out of her body but not so much that the doctors and nurses found it concerning. Her body dilated and stretched and I watched the contractions take her and it seemed like they were going to squeeze the life out of her. I don’t care what you’ve seen on TV. Birth is terrible and it all winds up in this ordeal with blood and screaming. Weiss screamed as she delivered my son into this world and a nurse received the baby with the cord still attached. They cleaned the baby off and handed him over to Weiss who looked exhausted and it was all she could do to take the infant in her arms and rock away. They both looked bone dead tired. Both her and the baby. 
The baby had her hair; white as snow which I thought was precious and hopefully a good sign. He had my darker eyes though which I didn’t think boded well. Weiss cooed down at her little bundle and gently maneuvered him in her arms. 
I moved my hand from my face which had been covering my mouth in horror and I walked over to her. 
“Little Nebel,” she hummed up at me. Her voice sounded hoarse from the screaming. 
“Hush now, my darling,” I murmured. “You look exhausted.” I informed her. “Ruby and I can look after the baby while you get some sleep. You did so well. You’ve earned some rest.” I kissed her gently on the forehead and she looked up at me with tired and beautiful baby blues. Her eyes just fucking were, man. They rocked me. 
“Say his name,” Weiss demanded. “He isn’t ‘the baby.’ Say his name,” she repeated at a whisper. 
“Nebel,” I did. “My son. Nebel Arc.” I did exactly as she commanded me to do. She looked content with that and handed the baby over to me. I took the tiny form in my arms and tucked him into the cradle they formed. 
“Aw,” Ruby cooed. “You’re holding him! How does it feel?”
“I feel…” I trailed off. I felt mostly the same. Gravity still pulled me down to Remnant. But I had Nebel in my arms and I gently rocked him. I felt like something horrible was going to happen. Like I was going to drop the infant and his head was going to smack into the linoleum. I held him a touch tighter to my chest and it must have been visible that I did to Ruby and Weiss because Ruby cooed again which made me look up to see Weiss nodding slowly. She was bleary eyed and seemed to wax and wane with consciousness. Her eyes went half lidded and slowly shut and she curled up onto one side. 
I clutched Nebel tighter in my arms. I felt wary but of what? It was quiet after the rounds and rounds of screaming. It was still. 
“Do you want to hold him?” I asked Ruby.
“Oh, can I?” She was already holding out her arms and I passed Nebel along to her with a low chuckle under my breath. 
“Oh… he has Weiss’s hair. And did you see his eyes?” She begged.  
“I did,” I agreed. 
“He’s got his daddy’s eyes. Oh, our first born son. I hope he’s just like you. In all the ways that really matter,” Ruby purred. 
“Well, maybe hopefully there will be some differences. I’ve been thinking about it a lot actually. There’s quite a bit I don’t want him to take from me.”
“Honesty, kindness, empathy, loyalty, protectiveness, intelligence. What’s wrong with all that?” Ruby demanded. 
“In order?” I asked.
She gave me a weary nod. 
“It fucking hurts. It fucking hurts. It fucking hurts. I’m a fucking dog. I’m a fucking dog. And I’m an over thinker,” I answered. 
“No swearing,” Weiss whimpered tiredly. 
Right, right. 
“I hear you. It’s not easy. But we don’t want easy lives for our babies,” Ruby informed me. “We want them to be able to handle hard lives. And being like you is a good way to do that. That’s one of the things which makes you attractive as a father. Because you’ve had a harder life than anyone and you’re still pushing and going further. That’s what we mean. That’s why we want our babies to be like you. You can pass that along to our children.” She rocked Nebel gently in her arms at a natural born, gods given, pace which looked comfortable and probably impossible for me to ever try to match. “You can pass all that pessimistic knowledge along and really save their little souls.”
I sighed heavily and stared at Nebel. 
“For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee.” I unleashed my son’s little blonde aura into the world. His soul was so pale with little soft blue lights. I tasted him and he tasted delicious. I took three steps back and away. He tasted like caramel over vanilla ice cream and the sharp tang of ozone.
“Was that wise?” Ruby wondered.
“Better he have it. Better he be able to make the choice himself. Better he have a little cushion of protection in this harsh, harsh world.” I wasn’t asking what she thought. If Ruby disagreed with me, then she was wrong. If Weiss disagreed with me, then she was wrong. My son; it was my responsibility. 
Let this be my first act as father besides cradling Nebel in my arms. I was alright with that order. First I held him up and then I brought his soul into this world. Aura was the ability to choose and I wanted my son to have options. 
“What did he do?” Weiss whined with her eyes closed and curled up on her side. 
“He unlocked Nebel’s aura,” Ruby whispered back. “He seems pretty sure that it was the right thing to do.”
Weiss mumbled absently and groaned. 
“It was the right thing to do,” I defended. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure.” I took a seat in one of the chairs around the little hospital room with beige walls. 
“It’s just… what if he doesn’t want it?” Ruby wondered. And it was at that moment I saw where she would be weak as a mother. She didn’t have a firm hand. She was always putting herself in their shoes and that was strong. But some decisions you needed to make as loving parents against your child’s will. It wasn’t about what Nebel would want. It was about giving him the most options and keeping him safe. 
“Not a choice. Not this. If he doesn’t want to be a hunter, I think that’s fantastic. But he will have aura. It does nothing but keep him safe and give him options. It’s not his choice.”
“But it makes you an empath!” Ruby protested.
“I thought you liked that,” I shot back.
“Not all the time,” she whined. 
“It hurts but I never promised my son an easy life. I, by the very nature of my own existence, can only promise pain and hardship. I don’t have anything else to give and I don’t know how to be a good father without that element. I have to be hard on him. Because you won’t,” I accused and I let enough venom into my words and aura that Ruby flinched and our son stirred in her arms. 
“I don’t…” She stammered. 
“Will you?” I demanded. 
She looked away.
“I have to be the bad guy. Don’t I? I have to take the stern hand. Because you’re too meek and mild and I love that about you. I do. I really, really do. But because you’re so tender and sweet I have to make the hard decisions. When it comes to punishing our son, who are you both going to turn to? Me. You want me to be the bad guy,” I spat. “So I’m going to. And it will be for the best.”
“I don’t want you to be distant…” Ruby went on.
“But I’m not my children’s friend. I’m their father.”
“Can’t it be both?” She wondered. 
“No,” I let the word drip from my lips and she flinched again. “Maybe your dad pulled that off. I can’t. I’m not that slick. I also don’t think he did pull that off even if he tried to. I think he failed and hurt you and was negligent in his responsibilities to you if he even tried to be your friend. But I don’t get that feel off of Taiyang. I don’t think he tried. I think he knew when he needed to be stern while also being emotionally available to you.” 
The baby warbled out an almost word. He stretched his little hand up and touched Ruby's face. Ruby pushed his hand down and softly hummed down at the baby she still rocked. 
"We're in your hands," Ruby decided. "If you say that's for the best and seem so sure I'll bow to your wisdom. I can't even remember what it was like before my aura was unlocked. You are so precious! You is!"
"Neither can I, really," I confessed.
Nebel reached out and grabbed Ruby's finger with his tiny right hand. Her little finger seemed massive compared with how small he was. 
"He looks like you," Ruby informed me. She stared down into the infant’s face lovingly. 
"Does he?" I glanced over at my son's face. I couldn't see myself in him at all. 
"Around the cheeks and in his jaw. Same shape," Ruby went on. She glanced over at me. From my vantage point I couldn’t really see his face super well but it was etched into my mind like a clay tablet. 
"I see Weiss," I admitted. "In his nose shape. And-"
Weiss gently stirred and shifted around our whispering conversation. 
"And the hair," Ruby agreed. "Who's mama's little sweetheart? Will you say mama first or dadda?"
"Isn't talking a long way off?" I wondered. 
"Not so long. Not really," Ruby disagreed this time. 
I stood up and walked behind Ruby. She cradled our son at her bosom and I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me. She leaned back and rubbed her cheek into my chest and then when I bent low she nuzzled my face. Then she lifted Nebel up and rubbed her cheek against his little face and he whimpered in protest. 
“No, you like it,” Ruby demanded, drawing out the word ‘no.’ “You like it. It’s okay. Let me nuzzle your itty-bitty face with mine. Let me love on you. It’s okay. You like it.”
“What if he doesn’t?” I asked from behind her.
“I’m sure he’ll let me know. And a bit louder than that. Let me have this. Let me mush our baby’s face into mine and love him.”
“You poor sweetheart. What are you going to do once he’s able to talk? If he’s anything like me he won’t appreciate his mama being up in his grill all the time.”
“Okay your relationship with your mother is… okay? It’s bad. I want to have a healthy relationship with our babies.”
“I didn’t mean that. I meant that I just wouldn’t appreciate being touched without my permission.”
“But he’s my baby! I need to touch his face. You try it. Nuzzle his face!”
“No,” I shot back. “He didn’t like it.”
“This isn’t about what he would like. I’m doing it for his own good. Like you unlocking his aura.”
“No you’re fuckin’ not.”
“Language! Babies are sponges.” 
“Don’t… don’t change the subject.”
“Don’t swear,” Ruby shot back. “I wouldn’t need to if you didn’t swear. Just try it. He smells so good. He smells like our baby. It’s so precious. Who’s mama’s little champ? You’re going to be a mighty warrior. I can feel it.”
“What if that’s not what he wants to do?” I protested.
“It will be. He has you and me and Weiss as role models. He’s a fighter. Just look at him. Smell your son!”
“Kinda weird. Does he have that new baby smell?”
“Oh psh, don’t be like that. He smells good. He smells like our baby. Our baby! I can’t wait to deliver one of my own. I’m going to be so proud.”
“He is your own,” I pointed out. 
“I meant to actually,” She waved a hand past her genitals. “You know? Not that Nebel isn’t my son. Of course he is my son. Of course he is. But I want to push one out too.”
“You want that? Women,” I breathed.
“What?”
“Did you not see how horrific that was?” I wondered. 
“It was so beautiful!”
“It was so not! It was so not, Rubes. And you want to do that four times? Come on. Level with me. That looked fu- incredibly awful. It did. Didn’t it. It’s like this terrible struggle of bringing new life into the world.”
“But that new life…” Ruby whispered. “It’s so beautiful. That new life is.”
“You guys…” Weiss whimpered. We both shut up. Our son was ebbing his way off to sleep and Ruby passed him to me while she left for the bathroom. I was assuming. 
“You heard all that? Can’t sleep?” I asked Weiss.
“I could if some people were quiet… but yeah. I heard the whole thing. You really think he looks like me?”
“So much so,” I choked. 
“Are you crying?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“Y-yes.”
“Aw…” she trailed and sat up. It was to see me with tears pouring from my eyes as I hunched over my son on one of the seats. “You are crying. Is it because he looks like me?”
“Yes…” I breathed. “He looks so much like you. I want… I want him to take after you in so many ways. I know you want him to be like me but I suffer, Weiss. I suffer. It would be so much better for him if he took after you. I don’t want this,” I waved a hand around my head helplessly. “I don’t want this for him. It scares me. It makes me sad. But looking at his little face and seeing how much he looks like you gives me hope.”
“I feel the exact same way about seeing him in you. I know you think you have it hard and maybe you really do. But nobody is better at handling it than you. That’s all I want. I want him to be able to handle life the way you do.”
“On the verge of tears over nothing?” I looked away.
“Over holding your son? Yes. That’s not nothing. Is it? Is that really nothing to you?” She asked.
“It means so much to me. It’s going to break me. Snap me in half. I bend but I never get there in terms of cracking all the way.” 
“Hold him. Look at him. Let me sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning. Okay?” She was consoling me like I pushed a baby out of my body.
“Okay,” I croaked. 
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-WG
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kittenfangirl20 · 20 hours
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*after the battle and the hotel being rebuilt, Lucifer went amongst the bodies until he found the one he was looking for, Adam, he still had that smile he gave Lute as he died happy to have a friend, Lucifer felt his heart clench, as much as he should hate Adam he always thought of how beautiful Adam’s smile was and the many times Lucifer was the reason why Adam smiled in Eden, did he play a part in Adam becoming the man he was, Lucifer nearly leapt in the air when he saw the signs of breathing*
Lucifer: How can you survive being stabbed in the back so many times?
*he knew Adam wouldn’t respond, but to Lucifer’s horror Adam’s skin became a light grey, his wings blackened, his fingers turned into claws and the skin on them turned black, horns grew, in spite of himself Lucifer started to cry*
Lucifer: No, no, no, you can’t let this happen to him. I ruined everything for him when he was alive and now this happens, he deserves so much better. Eve will find a way to kill me if she found out that Adam fell and that I made Adam think I slept with her.
*without thinking Lucifer picked up the new fallen angel and ran to the hotel while still crying over his former friend being a fallen angel, Charlie was shocked to see her father sprout wings to fly instead of going up the stairs, he found a room and placed Adam on the bed, he used the magic to change the decor to Adam’s liking in gold, dark blue, and black, he became even more distraught to see gold blood cover his white suit, he felt someone lead him out of the room and saw it was Charlie*
Charlie: Dad can you tell me why Adam is in the hotel?
Lucifer: He isn’t dead Charlie, he fell like me. Please redeem him for me, I hurt him so much and he doesn’t deserve Hell.
*Charlie who never saw Adam outside of him being the leader of the Exorcists didn’t know if she could agree, but she wondered if he was very different in Eden and if he had in fact been friends with her father, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard the most pained and heartbroken scream she ever heard come from Adam’s room telling her that he had woken up and must have seen his new look, at that point she made her choice*
Charlie: Ok dad, I will help Adam redeem himself.
*Lucifer flung his arms around Charlie*
Lucifer: Thank you.
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memyselfandmya · 3 days
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JWCT PROMPT COUNTDOWN
Jwct countdown May 12-13 -> favorite friendship/duo:
I couldn't choose between Sammy & Kenji and Ben & Yaz so here's both of them in another excerpt from the fanfiction I'm in the process of writing. Again, this is mostly unedited. For context, they're at the water park in JW.
Sammy noticed Kenji standing off to the side with a disappointed look on his face. 
“Hey, Kenji! Did you wanna’ go–” 
He flipped his sunglasses to shade his eyes. “Sammy, let me stop you there. I know it’s hard to resist all this,” —he ran his hands across his shirtless chest, which Sammy hadn’t even been paying attention to— “but I’ve got a girl back home. And let me tell you, she is incredibly–”
She stared at him, head tilting a bit. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. “Uh, Kenji. I don’t want to date you,” Sammy said. “Like, at all. I’m happy you have a girlfriend, though. I was just seeing if you wanted to hang out.” 
“Psh… Obviously. I was just kidding.” He cleared his throat. “About you asking me out. Not about my girlfriend... obviously,” he added on.
Sammy nodded her head slowly. “Right…well do you want to go on one of the rides?”
“Yes! Let’s go!”
“So tell me about this girlfriend of yours,” Sammy said as they began walking through the park.  
“Oh, uh–well you know. She’s really pretty. She’s got blonde hair…blue eyes? She’s, uh, really into art too.”
Sammy arched her eyebrow. It was obvious that Kenji was lying about his so-called girlfriend. Why he was, Sammy couldn’t be sure. Not that it really mattered to her. She wasn’t at all interested in Kenji—or boys for that matter. “She sure sounds like a great catch.”
Although to be honest, Kenji’s imaginary girlfriend didn’t seem like her type, at least not the blonde hair and blue eyes. Sounded more like her sister’s type in guys if anything.
Suddenly, her eyes caught on a huge slide with a line of people carrying bright yellow and green intertubes trailing from the base of its stairs all the way to the top which stood at about maybe 2 stories tall. 
“Last one to that slide has to carry the tube up!” Sammy shouted, pointing at said ride and dashing off before Kenji could get a word in. 
She could hear the sound of Kenji’s flip-flops smacking against the concrete as they ran for the line, ignoring the shrill whistle of a nearby lifeguard. 
Yasmina was still bristling from her encounter with Brooklyn. The nerve of that girl! Did she even understand personal boundaries? She just flitted around sticking her phone in everyone’s faces. It wasn’t fair that Brooklyn got to keep it just to be nosy. All Yasmina wanted was to plug her headphones in and listen to music.
It would’ve especially been helpful in that moment. Hundreds of kids were milling around screaming their fucking heads off and life guards blowing whistles at them and it was like shoving a bunch of forks in her ears. She just wished she could tune everything out. 
“Oh, look,” A familiar voice said. “There’s Yasmina!”
Kill me now, she thought, dread settling in her stomach. She sat up in her chair, to find Ben and Darius approaching her. Ben wasn’t so bad but Darius had just as much energy as Brooklynn or, dare she say it, Sammy. “What do you want?” She asked. 
Darius shrugged. “Nothing, really… Just chilling.”
Ben took a seat next to Yasmina, occupying not even an inch of the space and even that looked like it agonized him. 
“Have you done anything fun?” Darius asked, his eyes cutting to Ben.
Yasmina narrowed her eyes at him. What was he up to? “Nope. I’ve been here the entire time. Why?”
“Just asking,” he said. “Ben, I might go on the [Insert ride]. Are you good to stay here?”
So that's what he wanted. Not much of a surprise there.
She looked at Ben who shrugged. “Sure.” 
“Awesome! See you,” he said, not wasting a second to go run off towards the slide line. 
“Did he just dump you onto me?” She asked Ben. 
“Yeah, he did.” There was a hint of pain in his voice and Yasmina wondered how it must have felt to be abandoned like that. 
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
Well that’s depressing. Then Yasmina noticed how Ben hadn’t moved any and still balanced precariously on the edge of the bench like he didn’t want to touch it all. 
“Here,” she said, tossing him the towel she’d been using to shade her face. 
Ben fumbled but caught it in his hands before spreading it out over the chair. Finally, he sat his full body on it and curled into himself. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Don’t mention it.”
To be fair, out of all the campers, she was glad it was Ben and not one of the others. Ben was quiet and calm and he kept to himself instead of sticking his nose into her business. He was kind of like her, in a way. 
After a moment of silence between them, Yaz could hear sniffling. She sighed, wondering if this was something worth getting into. And then: “Are you okay?”
Ben hated it there. Nobody understood. He could tell he was upsetting Darius by not wanting to go on any of the attractions but Ben just couldn’t. The mere thought of touching the tubes or sliding down slides that so many others had gone down made his skin crawl. If he wasn’t wearing long sleeves he’d probably be scratching at his arms or lathering hand sanitizer on his skin. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer in the world that could convince him to go on one of those rides, though. The only comforting thing about the wade pool or the lazy river was the heavy amount of chlorine in the water but Ben knew there was only so much he could handle that day. Ben hadn’t even noticed his nails digging into his skin or the salty tear leaking from his eye.
“Are you okay?” Yasmina’s question only seemed to draw more tears from him. 
“No,” he said, swiping at his face. “I want to go home.”
Yasmina was silent for a moment, and in that time he had begun to think that she too fell into the Ben hate club. Until, “Me too.” 
Ben and Yasmina's friendship is so precious to me, especially in s5 of CC and I really wanted to bring that up in the earlier parts of the fanfic I'm writing too.
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flokali · 9 months
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♢ I love you, I own you | Tartaglia
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warnings: yandere, dub-con, penetration, coming inside, unprotected, undertones of misogyny, toxic parents, manipulation and gaslighting, obsessive, paranoid, and possessive behavior, toxic mindset, coerced submission, getting walked into, bribing, murder, torture, self-doubt and insecurities (mc), arranged marriage, implied financial insecurity, implied virginity (mc & childe), spoilers for tartaglia’s story/lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unreliable narration (at times). ask to tag.
pairing: afab! fem! reader (bottom) x childe (top)
word count: 13.3k
a/n: ahhh; hopefully this is good >_< i love him so much… after almost a year, ‘tis done ^_^
part two: here
— 18+
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Childe is horrified and incredibly angered, if not down right homicidal, when he finds out your parents planned to have you engaged to a no-name Fatui henchman, it’s only a further blow to his already weakened heart when the news don’t come from you nor your family but from the loud mouths of your “soon to be fiancé” and his goons. His blue eyes widen and he feels himself grow lightheaded, his stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out and, oh Celestia, he thinks he’s going to puke.
While perhaps not the most befitting behavior for a Harbinger, Ajax couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he had first heard the mention of your name and while he’s extremely glad he did, - he’s silently thanking the Tsaritsa for telling him now so he could do something - he almost wishes he didn’t as he’s now forced to go back to his office and wordlessly deal with the intrusive thoughts racing through his head.
All he can think about are the countless pinky promises you’d both made to each other during your childhood, the coos of both of your parents when they had first heard him declare his love for you, the feeling of your hands against his when you kissed his cheek goodbye before the fateful day he stumbled down the abyss, the way you and only you were the sole thing keeping him together during his time there, the way you sobbed in relief when he first approached you after emerging victorious from hell itself; did those moments mean nothing? Had only he been impacted by them? Had you forgotten his love for you - your love for him?
No, he thought as he marched to his desk, there’s no way - you had to have felt it too, you must have kept those memories deep in your heart as did he. You both were meant to be, childhood sweethearts, one soul in two different bodies, created from the same stars and carved out from the same earth, put into the same world to meet and love each other from your first life to the last. You were his and he was yours, you were one and the same, you were lovers - it was written in the stars and in his very flesh, it was a fact as true as his love for you.
His breathing is ragged and he can’t contain his shaking body, he never should have trusted your parents - they obviously didn’t have your best interest in mind, if they cared about you at all they would have never promised your hand to another, they would’ve realized he, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, he was the best man for you.
Granted, they hadn’t heard from good little Ajax for years, not ever since he’d left for the Fatui - he only ever kept consistent correspondence with you and his family - but that’s no excuse, there was no excuse for their actions, they were disgusting pests that were blinded by greed. How much money had they taken to accept such a disgusting agreement? 500,000 Mora? No, that was too cheap… 1,000,000? 2,000,000? More? Maybe it was in the tens of millions, there was no way you were being given away for less, right?
“Ahhh,” the ginger sank in his chair, his trembling hands finding his hair and pulling at the soft strands in frustration, “what do I do now? What should I do? What should I do? Shit… this can’t be happening.”
He wanted to cry and destroy everything. Destroy that man, no… that poor, pathetic excuse of a man that had dared try and stake his claim on you. This wasn’t your fault, there was no way you knew – never once in your letters had you mentioned a lover nor a wedding, you would have told him - would have begged for him to save you - if you did know you must have cried and begged for them to not marry you to that bastard, sobbed as you muttered his - Ajax’s - name like a mantra, begging to be taken by him and finally wed to the true love of your life.
It felt like the world was falling and crushing him alive.
How could they do this to you? How dare they do this to you? To him, to you, to the both of you.
He could just have the man killed, sent on a suicide mission disguised as an essential step for gnosis hunting - maybe even under the pretense of a promotion, he was sure he’d accept anything, he was a no name soldier that would probably be forgotten by the next round of recruitment -, and make your parents go bankrupt, burn their house and have their businesses fail before delivering the final blow of jailing them due to fraud or maybe even executed under claims of treason; the thoughts calmed his rapid heart, if only slightly.
They needed to be taught a lesson, they shouldn’t put their dirty, greedy hands where they didn’t belong.
But no, that’d be too light of a punishment, and there would be so many loose threads - he’d rather be on good terms with your family - if only for you -, could it maybe be a misunderstanding? It could be, right? They were like family to him once, after all, and a part of him hates the idea of them having grown so vile and corrupted, they were supposed to be his in-laws and he’d rather his children have both sets of grandparents. Not to mention, you’d be so sad to see them gone, even if there was a chance they were worth nothing more than dirt.
No, that wouldn’t do, his wife couldn’t be sad - he’d confront them as soon as physically possible, question their actions and propose a better arrangement, and depending on their answer they would become the Fatui’s latest show of loyalty to the Tsaritsa or officially join the perfect future he’d dreamed of with you.
Yes, that’s what he’d do, his shaking heart finally comes to a rest as he begins to plan his trip. If things went south he could easily have his initial plan executed quickly, and while he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having to plan their execution arrangements, justice wasn’t always pleasant.
It’d be alright, surely all of this could be resolved through a mature, adult conversation. And if not, then Childe wasn’t a Harbinger for naught.
It takes him a few days until he’s able to find the time to meet up with your parents, though, honestly, it’s more like barging into your home unannounced and demanding answers. He has a job - a serious job, after all, one that demands his presence and takes true effort and work, unlike that shitty excuse of meat your parents wanted you to marry - and he had matters to attend to – after all forging evidence for a possible execution isn’t easy and he wants to be prepared, it was one of the few times where he wanted to come in with a proper battle plan.
He had it all planned out if things went south, a few reports here, some testimonies there, a lengthy transcript or two, a handful of bank reports, and soon your parents would look like traitors to the crown and be sentenced to public execution.
All he had to do was confront them in person. He wasn’t sure if your parents would be home, he hoped so as to not prolong such a troublesome process any longer, but he was willing to wait. He was getting his answers today, one way or another; he’d free you from this horrid arrangement and whisk you away to give you the life you truly deserved.
Luckily for him, you live in the same neighborhood as you always had, so no time had to be wasted searching for your family’s whereabouts. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to come back to his childhood neighborhood and he can’t help the giddiness in his heart as he strolls through memory lane while making his way down the streets you two shared a childhood in, it looked almost the same - a few differences here and there like a new house or someone’s place having been renovated, but it felt just like home. His parents had long since moved houses into a fancier side of the city, the money Childe managed to bring home as a Harbinger long since allowing them the luxuries that had once felt impossible, but he almost wishes they hadn’t as he spots your family’s humble abode, his heart longing back to the days of your shared youth.
It’s a two story house, built with strong wood made to resist Snezhnaya’s harshest winters and the cold summers, the roof was made of strong wood and designed so that snow would fall as to not sink, the front yard still held the swing you’d begged your parents for on your tenth birthday, the mailbox was still slightly crooked from the time he had head-butted it when racing you back from the park, the flowerbed still held the same flowers and plants that were able to withstand Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, the tree somehow still seemed to harbor the countless balls you two had gotten stuck there back when you were in your preteens; it was like it had been frozen in time, the only true difference he could spot was your older figure sitting on the front steps looking as if you were waiting for something, maybe someone; maybe him.
His heart stops as do his steps, he’d been so busy the last couple of years he hadn’t been able to pay you a visit in person, he’d had a few soldiers patrol the area before, but nothing could prepare Ajax for the surge of emotions that coursed through his body as he laid eyes on you.
Your body was taller and you had grown into your features, but you were still you - your eyes still shined with the hope and love he’d long since lost while your lips were still as tempting as he remembered. There was no doubt it was you, he’d recognize you anywhere; no matter how much you changed. But you looked sad, your lips downcast, your eyes filled with tears, and your frame hunched over, it was clear you were cold by the shaking of your frame but you didn’t falter - still sitting down with a flimsy blanket wrapped around you as you waited.
The scene made him pick up his pace, he was desperate to reach your side; what had happened? Why did you look so sad? Were you hurt? His men had not informed him of anything happening that would explain the crystal like tears that pooled in your eyes, just the sight was enough to have his blood boiling and fists shaking as he wondered who was responsible for the pain you so openly displayed.
Have you found out about Andrei and your parents’ sins? The thought of them being the reason for your sorrow made him grow dizzy with rage, but the negative feelings can only last so long as he has you in his sights. Your mere presence seemed to lull his emotional heart into a more tranquil state.
“[Y/N]?” Childe asked, he was only a few feet away from you but he didn’t dare walk closer, “Is that you?”
“A-Ajax?” Your eyes widened, hope evident in your voice and it’s like all traces of the previous pain in your face had vanished, “Oh, Ajax!”
You hesitate for a second before breaking into a smile when you realize it really was him. It almost looks like you want to burst into tears and he’s sure he probably doesn’t look any better, seeing you in the flesh after so long felt like a dream and as if every moment without you until now had been but a nightmare, he can’t help himself from running towards you and throwing himself into your arms. He looks older, definitely more mature, his is build stronger now - probably due to the fighting and training he endured as a Harbinger, you thought - but his smile was still the same, perhaps a bit empty but it still filled your heart with a warmth that could battle Snezhnaya’s unforgiving cold. It felt right to have him back in your arms as if time had never been cruel and taken him away from you, you could have sweared your worries disappeared the moment you took in his warmth.
His white coat floats through the air as he lands between your arms, and you can feel his smile in your chest as he hugs you tight.
He was finally home, he thought, in your arms and back in the neighborhood that had raised him - he was with you and that was all that mattered, the man was filled with so much ecstasy he could almost forget why he’d come here.
“What are you doing here?” You ask him, your voice is shaky and the ginger feels himself melt at the familiar tone of your voice.
“I should be asking you that,” he laughs, his eyebrows becoming furrowed in concern as he speaks, “it’s freezing, darling, you shouldn’t be outside.”
“I… I was waiting for one of your letters,” you whisper shyly, during your time away from each other - weekly letters had been your primary source of communication, something you’d learn to love and cherish as one of the few forms of contact you and Childe could have without your parents knowing his dangerous job and position.
“You’re so cute,” he coos, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he realizes you were safe, if anything he feels ashamed he hadn’t been able to send you anything and caused you such pain, his heart aches as he tries to wrap around his head he may have hurt your feelings, his gloved fingers find your cheek and squeezes it tightly, “however, it’s too cold for you to be outside with just a blanket, my love.”
“I know,” you shake your head, you go to lift a hand to wipe the stray tears that had escaped you but Childe takes care of it for you as he delicately caressed your face, “it’s just, I hadn’t heard from you in almost two weeks and I got worried, I thought… maybe something had happened in Liyue and you’d gotten hurt.”
“O-oh… I’m sorry,” his deep blue eyes look downcast as he processes your words, “I never meant to worry you, I had so much to do and to say that instead of a letter I decided to come meet you in person, i-isn’t that better, love? I simply couldn’t be away from you any longer, it’s my fault, though, I should have told you so earlier, ahh… I can’t believe I’ve made my angel cry.”
A poor soldier would have their head cut off tonight, he thought, for he was certain he’d sent a bag full of letters meant to last you at least a full season to be delivered everyday to you while he arranged for this mess to be solved.
You nod as stars fill your eyes before shaking your head as if assuring him you were alright. You loved Ajax and you had loved him for almost all your life, from the moment you met him you’d been charmed by his boyish good looks and charisma, of course a few things had changed, but he was still your sweet Ajax, the boy who’d stolen your heart and kept it safely within his arms for as long as you’ve known him.
“Come on,” you signal him to stand up with a soft pat and the man has to stop himself from begging for more of your touch, “let’s go inside, you must be tired and we have so much to talk about.” He nods and lets himself be pulled up by you as you giggle and smile about finally being able to talk face to face after years of not being able to physically see each other.
You feel like a teenager again as you lead Ajax into your house, your heart beating like you were confessing your love for the first time - the excitement was practically the same, your head felt fuzzy from the warm feeling holding Childe’s hand gave you; you had missed him terribly. You feel like you were about to explode into a million piece from excitement, your head filled with everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Ajax’s face ever since he left, all the news that felt too important to simply write out and that had you hoping a day like this would finally come, you’re scared of coming off too intensely but your heart truly feels like it’ll burst from joy, unfortunately your excitement comes to an abrupt end when you finally drag him into your living room. You turn around to offer him a drink or something to eat, the trip from the capital all the way over here was a couple hours long and he’d always had quite an appetite, but you’re faced with a look of disappointment and slight anger as he looks around the room, your heart sinks - just seconds ago he was all smiles and laughter as you two embraced each other in the harsh winter, having created a warm paradise between each other, but now he looked as if he couldn’t stand to be in your house and you wonder if maybe you’d angered him somehow even though you logically knew you’d done nothing other than invite him inside.
Maybe you were overreacting, you think, you’d been quite paranoid as of recently, your family had been distant and you’d been feeling lonely and anxious for a while. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since you’d had guests over, at least, guests that mattered to you and hadn’t been your parents’ friends or siblings spouses. The look in Ajax’s face makes your stomach churn; had something happened?
“Are your parents home?” He asks, his voice tinged in a mixture of distaste and sadness, it’s lower than when he’d spoken to you earlier and you wonder what could have happened to create such a drastic change in his behavior. If you took the time to notice you’d see how his eyes glare at the family portrait; the two traitors clear as day as they embraced their children, Childe couldn’t help but see them in a new, more negative and hateful light.
Not after two weeks of research, not when he was now certain they wanted to get in his way.
“No, they said they weren’t coming home until later tonight, but if you want to stay till then I’m sure they'd love to see you again,” you try to reassure him thinking he was perhaps saddened at not being able to see your parents, it’d make sense since, unlike you two, they hadn’t been able to keep in touch since the young man’s career in the Fatui began.
“I… I don’t think I want to meet them, no,” Ajax shakes his head, his hair bouncing as he makes his way to your sofa, his legs tremble slightly – cowards, he thinks, not even able to show their faces, “I actually came here to talk to them but, ha… now that I’m here I’m not too sure.”
“Hmm, how so?” You ask, your heart - which was already quite nervous at his sudden change of mood - sinks further, a sudden uneasiness fills your lungs.
He’d come here in hopes of finding you parents and confronting them with his findings, he would have offered them a chance to redeem themselves and cancel the wedding without you even finding out about the secret dealings they’d been making in your name, but they were not here, you were. Maybe, he could change his battle plan, if he couldn’t talk to your parents… why not simply talk to you? If he’d offered a higher sum and never asked you himself, he’d be no better than that lowlife and your parents, not that you’d reject him - but the thought of steeping as low as they did made him sick.
“What are your thoughts about marriage?” The question is so sudden and unrelated to the previous topic you instinctively frown.
“Marriage,” you sit down opposite of him, it feels like you’re in a job interview as he questions you, “I mean, I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure I want to get married, at least not now, I’m not too sure I’d want to give it all up; I mean, I have a job and friends, there’s so much to do, so much I want to do… and I can’t say I’d be able to do it all if I was married. I’d like to travel and, I… I don’t know, learn more I guess, I feel like if I settle down it'll be once I’m more, you know, confident or mature?”
You trail off awkwardly, it was true - the only times you’d ever seriously thought about marriage often included you being significantly older and, most of the time, with an already retired Ajax — though you wouldn’t admit that to his face unless you were certain he felt the same. You’d rather keep that last part hidden, if not for fear of making him uncomfortable, for the sake of your heart and fear of being brushed aside. Your parents had made it quite clear; you were no marriage-material, you’d be lucky if you even manage to get a partner at this rate, and you doubted a man as accomplished as Tartaglia, Ajax, the 11th Harbinger, would settle for a average, clumsy, pessimistic small town girl such as yourself.
He stays quiet as if a million thoughts were racing around his head; that wasn’t the answer he particularly wanted, he’d rather hear you’d been fantasizing of marrying him, hear you ramble on and on about how you’d been waiting for him and were just about ready to go down the aisle with him and promise yourself to one another but he was glad you weren’t against the idea of marriage, even if he wished you’d been more open about doing it sooner rather than later; but that would change, he was sure of it.
“And, uh, what about you?” You ask, the air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to ease the tension, only one thought was really running through your head that you were too afraid to ask; “What was going on with Ajax?”
“Me?” The question snaps him out of whatever mental trance he’d caught himself in, “Well, I want to get married, the sooner the better, I want to have a family, but it’s gotta be with the person I love the most in this world, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine living without them.”
Neither the words themselves nor the sentiment are crazy, even if you’d only just gotten to know him, it was obvious Ajax wanted a loving family to call his own and it was a pretty common desire for many, it more so was the way his eyes seemed to bore into your own as he spoke, as if he were trying to let you know it was you who he was talking about. You flustered at the thought, it was perhaps selfish to think it was you he was talking about but the thought pleased you nonetheless even if your parents’ words echoed in your mind.
“That’s, ah,” you mumble, breaking eye contact and looking elsewhere, trying to calm your beating heart, you should stop being so silly - he was here to talk with your parents, not you, both of you meeting was mere coincidence, nothing else, “really nice, I hope you find them soon..”
“You do?” He smiles, seemingly pleased with your words, but it’s significantly weaker than usual.
There’s an awkward silence as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d come here to propose. You know it sounds crazy and incredibly sudden but the mention of marriage and wanting to talk to your folk, the fact he’d made the time in his incredibly busy schedule and travels to come over to your house, it made it sound like he had ulterior motives for coming here and just the thought of them had you flustered. You may have just said you wanted to hold off on marriage, that you doubted someone like him would even think of being your partner, but you felt certain that if Ajax asked for your hand you would agree with no hesitation – out of a pitiful mix of love and desperation.
You’re unsure of what to do and are about to speak up, willing to say almost anything to move the conversation forward and away from the topic, but he beats you to it and breaks the silence first.
“Listen, dove… I-I love your parents and I wouldn’t accuse them of something like this if I didn’t have evidence, okay?” He lies through his teeth, after finding out the way they were so willing to get in between you two he could barely stand the thought of them now, but he’s lucky the rest of the words come easy, “I really didn’t want to believe this either, but I have many a reason to suspect they may be trying marrying you off soon to a stranger.”
“W-What?” You breathe out, you struggle to process his words, it’s as if they’d bounced off your brain and floated off elsewhere, “M-marrying me off? What’s - what do you mean?”
No, no, no way.
You feel yourself grow tense and light headed.
What sort of messed up prank was this? There was no way… right?
“It seems they found a member of the Fatui,” he shakes his head, “a guy named Andrei Galkin, and they’re planning to marry you off to him, so I decided to ask around - it seems like it’s been a topic for a while now, money may be involved too, the reason I came here was to… have a talk with your parents, see if I could change their mind.”
“D-do you even have proof?” You ask with a shivering voice, heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to feel hot in embarrassment and anger; your parents were meaning to sell you off to some man? This had to be a joke Childe was playing, you’d known he’d become a bit off after the Abyss incident and you knew his time as a Harbinger probably messed him up, but this wasn’t funny. It was disgusting, the mere prospect has you trembling as you try and grasp what on earth was happening. However, the more you look at him, you wonder if this is a joke at all. You studied him and his expression, desperately trying to see anything on his face that’d indicate this was a sick prank from his part, a cheeky smile or maybe lack of eye contact - anything would do, you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate as you realized how absurd it’d be for him to come all the way to a village hours away from the main city to play such a horrible joke on you, one he must have known would cause you pain and anguish — you doubted he’d want to see you like this, at least you hoped he wouldn’t want to see you like this.
Oh, the realization makes you grow lightheaded, he was probably telling the truth.
“There’s correspondence between them and his family, there’s also a wedding venue booked under their names,” Ajax mumbled, his voice a mere whisper against the sound of your beating heart, he pulls a few files from his coat and hands them to you - your last name is printed on the cover and you quickly open them and browse through the pages, your heart sinks, “I also found money transactions between your family and the Galkin family, about… I’m sorry but I can’t —“
“How much, Ajax?” You feel stiff and your hands start shaking making it hard for you to continue flipping through the countless reports, photographs, records, bank transactions, and letters, your blood feels terribly cold as you try to calm down the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through your body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down, not when your family, your parents of all people, have seemed to been able to calmly put a price on not only your love but your person as well.
“About 900,000 Mora,” he mutters, cold blue eyes avoiding your gaze as he continues, “to Uncle and Auntie from Andrei’s family.”
“900,000 Mora…” You feel your heart shatter as Childe brings a comforting hand towards your shoulders, his calloused fingers massaging your tense muscles, “You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’d never lie about such a thing,” he approaches you slowly, Ajax continues speaking as he envelops you with a hug soon after removing the papers from your trembling hands,“this pains me as much as it pains you.”
All of this was true, it’d taken him a long time to gather it all, but the reality was simple and cruel;
your parents had begun arranging for your marriage to an older Fatui soldier for after his retirement.
“Why… why would they do this?” You mutter, feeling sorrow slowly fill your lungs up - making it harder to breathe comfortably, “H-how could they? How could they? Why… Ajax, w-why?”
You felt like an idiot, just minutes ago you’d naively thought you may be getting proposed to by your childhood lover, a childish and hopelessly romantic thought, but now you’re sitting in your living room, on the verge of a breakdown as you tried to think of why on earth your parents would be willing to accept such an offer on your behalf, why they’d use you - their daughter - for Mora.
“Shhh, it’s okay, let it out,” he brings your head into his shoulder, caressing your back in a soothing manner, “it must feel horrible, I’m sure.”
And so you sit there, sobbing into your old friend as you try and process the information presented in front of you. It takes you a good couple of minutes to calm down, by then you two have once again sat down on the couch.
“What am I going to do?” You bury your face into your hands, your body shook as you thought about having to confront your parents once they arrived now with the knowledge you had.
It takes Ajax a couple of seconds before he speaks up, he needed to make it seem like he hadn’t been thinking of this from the moment he’d gotten his hands on the evidence himself; “I have an idea but...”
Your head shoots up in record speed, you could practically feel your neck crack from the sudden move but you didn’t care, you were desperate for a solution - no matter how good or bad it may be; “Oh come on, just spit it out, nothing could be worse than this.”
“Marry me.”
Your eyes widen and your breath hitches; “M-Marry you?”
He nods, sapphire eyes staring you down like a hunter would prey - you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.
“Why?”
“Why?” He echos, you can see him stifle a laugh, “Because it’s either that or marrying some lowlife named Andrei who paid to wed you.”
You feel your body stiffen at the harsh words, they were true but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear. You avoid looking him in the eyes, your hands anxiously twiddle each other.
“… and what if you’re wrong?”
“What?” He asks as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said.
“What if my parents aren’t marrying me off…”
“Darling,” Ajax laughs but his eyes didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, “are you doubting me? I gave you evidence, it’s right there.”
“Not necessarily,” you look away, you couldn’t help but wonder why you needed to explain yourself, “but, come on, I can’t accept this, it’s too sudden and mom and dad, t-they’d never do this to me, right? I’m their daughter, you know? They love me, they said they did and you don’t do this if you love someone, right?. So… so w-what if you’re wrong?”
“Wrong? There’s no other interpretation that makes sense of what we’ve both seen. Why would I lie to you about this? Come on, love, look at me, do I look like I’m enjoying this?” He questions you, “Look at me, come on, listen to me, if it were up to me,” he grabs your chin when you refuse to meet his gaze, his dark blue eyes stare deeply into your soul; they don’t shine the way the once used to, “I would have asked them for their blessing and proposed to you in the plaza, I would have had a ring ordered from Liyue costume made for you, I’d organize for their to be flowers of every color imaginable, even arrange food and music too, there would be hundreds onlookers who’d die to experience a fraction of the joy we would be feeling, I would have invited my family and yours, I’d have you wearing a custom dress, you’d be the happiest woman in Teyvat if I’d have my way… but look where we are instead, can’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for us, this isn’t what I wanted for you, but we still have time, we can still fix it. But before that first, you have to believe me and get it through your head; this is who they are, this is what they’ve done, your parents don’t love you any more.”
“…” You can only look at him in shock as you feel tears swell in your eyes because it was not far fetched to say that the last few months your family had been distant, that they’d begun to act strange, and that you’d been short on cash for Tsaritsa knows how long, it hurt because a part of you felt like this was plausible. Because it was true, you were the youngest and that you didn’t exactly pull your weight the same way your siblings did, it was true you’d been more of a casualty in your family’s life but that didn’t mean they’d sell you off. No, they had treated you with love and kindness, they’d been there for every big step in your life, they loved you… right? They’d never do this to you, they would never accept Mora in exchange for your hand in marriage. They would never trade their love for you for some Money… right?
Maybe their love was ensuring you had a better future, one where your lover took care of you even if you didn’t exactly choose them, it was true your love life had been awfully stale, that the only person you’d ever been interested in who had also liked you back was in the army, and that you were never quite able to secure a full time job, it was always part-time and you were always booked the least compared to your coworkers. It was true you didn’t have many friends, most of the people your age had moved away by now, you were the only one of your siblings who wasn’t married or dating someone, out of all of your siblings you were the only one who seemed to remain the same no matter how many years passed. Maybe it was exactly what this was, a misunderstood, misplaced, and ill-fitting way of showing their love; but maybe you hated the thought this was their way of expressing it more than you were moved they’d tried at all.
“Shhh, my love,” you didn’t quite catch when Ajax had started wiping your tears away nor when he had managed to get so close, but at that moment – the moment where your whole life felt so uncertain and shaken – you were willing to ignore it all, “it’s okay, I know what you’re thinking… My offer still stands, you can still marry me.”
“And then what?” You sobbed, holding his gloved hands tightly against your cheek, “What am I going to do after that?”
“You’ll move in with me,” he responds matter of factly yet his tone is still soft, as if he feared speaking too loudly would scare you away, “and we’ll tell them together and you’ll make your bags and we’ll be on our way away from all of this mess. Please listen to me, sweetheart, as of right now, I’m the only choice for you – it won’t be bad at all, it’ll be lovely in fact, don’t you want that?”
“…”
“Please, please trust me, I only want what’s best for you,” he continues, ignoring your silence and instead continuing to caress your skin, “I’ve worked with Andrei, he’s no good, he’s older and cranky, he’s always in a bad mood, he won’t satisfy you, and I don’t want you to be miserable, I mean look at you, is this what you want? Hear me out and put trust in me, you won’t regret it; I’ll get you out of this, I promise.”
“But…”
“I love you and I know you love me,” he whispered, drawing closer to you, his voice low as he slowly leans into your lips, he stops right before they can touch his own, “and I’m sure you’ll grow to love this too.”
There’s a silence as you let your options cross your head, you feel yourself grow overwhelmed, being struck with grief and regret in such strong waves you have no choice but to simply give in to the only secure stone you currently see in the storm that was brewing in your mind.
He loved you, he said so himself, and he’d protect you, he’d promised. You could trust him, you had to trust him; you had no one else.
“I’ll… I’ll marry you.”
“That’s my girl.” He boasts, his face – which is now close enough for you to smell the mint in his breath – breaks into a smile before he’s leaning into your face to kiss you; You reciprocate the action and close your eyes, secretly hoping that today was but a nightmare.
You feel his gloved hands wander around your body, the leather-like material is smooth as his skilled digits play around. There’s barely any time to breathe as he continues kissing you until you grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen entering your lungs.
You had always liked Ajax, always dreamed of marrying him, but as your dreams were coming true you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the circumstances that brought it up.
“Darling,” he moans, as he finally parts himself from your abused lips, “you’re not kissing back, don’t tell me you –“
“Ajax,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper as you desperately try to dive into his eyes, seeking an answer, “why are you doing this?”
The question spoke for itself, no further clarification was needed; why had he come? Why had he revealed your parents’ plans? Was it even as awful as he made it seem? Why did he care? Why now? Did he really want to marry you or did he just feel responsible for you? Why did he bring himself into this mess? Why you, why him, why, why, why, why? Simply; why?
A part of you couldn’t quite believe what you’d heard, you still struggled to grasp the idea that your parents would even think of giving your hand away for Mora, and yet the intensity in his voice, the anger in his tone as he relayed the information he’d gathered could have convinced anyone, you doubted he’d lie about something as severe. If this was the truth, it’d been revealed to you too quickly, you’d been expected to get over it too soon, one moment you find out your parents were getting rid of you and your trust in the most materialistic of ways and the next you’ve been proposed to by a man you hadn’t seen in person for over half a decade. You can’t help but wonder if you said yes because you loved him or because you were desperate, for what - you didn’t know.
“Because I love you,” he speaks, his dull eyes finding yours and you wonder if they’d always lacked light, “I love you… and I’m not letting anyone get in my- our way.”
In his head, this was the only way to have you, this was the only way to love you, he was going to save you.
He doesn’t stop to wait for your response before he’s picked you up with ease, years of training and hard work evident by how nonchalantly he walks around your house and goes up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms and picking up the pace the closer you got to the destination; you were going to your bedroom, you realize, the one you’d been occupying since you were a child. You never thought your house to be small but the speed in which he was walking made you aware of how short the distance between your bedroom and living room was.
“Ajax, what are you doing?” You whimper, you hold on tightly to the ginger, you’re so close you can smell his cologne, afraid he’d let you do if you let up even for a second.
“I’ll show you,” he continued down the hall, there’s an edge to his voice that gives you a chill, he sounded almost angry but with whom you did not know, “I’ll show you why I’m doing this.”
You two finally make your way to your bedroom where he kicks the door open and plops you, quite unceremoniously, down onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes and wiggles his heavy coat off before climbing the bed with you, he tugs you around until you’re below him.
“You’re doing all of this too fast, calm down,” you argue, pain and sorrow still evident in your voice and it hurts his soul to hear it, “you don’t have to prove me anything, I…”
“Everything I’ve said is true, love,” the red-head insists, “and I’m doing this equally for me as I’m doing it for you.”
You don’t respond, instead you opt to look away; his gaze was becoming too intense and it was making you feel funny in ways you hadn’t felt before.
“Look at me,” his hands find your jaw and he redirects your gaze forcefully, “you’ve already said yes, unless… don’t tell me you,” his eyes darken as they narrowed, an almost animalistic look took over his features, “you lied and you don’t want to marry me.”
“I… I do, I’ve always wanted to, but,” It’s embarrassing to admit but you do so anyway in fear of creating a misunderstanding between the two of you, everything was going so fast you were struggling to keep up, “but… is this really how you want to do it?”
You were certain you could take things slower, maybe wait for your parents to come home and talk to them, you didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, was this healthy? Was this okay?
“Yes,” it seems like he can sense your hesitation so he continues, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His words held so much certainty you almost feel stupid for even questioning him, he drew near your lips once more before engulfing your mouth in a kiss, this time with much more vigor than before.
His teeth nip at your lips, begging for entry and you shyly grant it, slowly parting your mouth open. It’s all so messy as you feel his tongue enter your mouth, the muscle seemingly had a life of its own as it mapped your mouth, teeth clashed against each other as if he were desperate to dominate you.
His hands find your waist and insists on pushing you further into the bed, molding your body into the mattress, as he rubs your sides with slow, sensual movements that light your body ablaze. The contrast between the continuous attacks on your lips and the soft stroking of your body left you dizzy, he handled you as if you were made of porcelain and yet ravaged you like a beast when granted access.
You unknowingly whine as your lips finally part, taking a deep breath of air in the process, a thin strip of saliva connected you both, a lewd indicator of the passion Ajax wished to imprint on you. You’re both panting, clearly riled up from the heated kiss, but the man on top of you insisted on letting his hands work their way through you. Your eyes trail downwards where his gloved digits traced the shape of your body, the way they glide across your curves and dips was hypnotizing, and you miss the way a smirk overtakes his features as he realizes how tightly he’s got you wrapped around those very same fingers.
You feel his breath before you hear his words; “Can I take this off?”
His voice is barely above a whisper yet his question rings around the room like a scream, you feel yourself grow hot under your clothes; the same ones he’d just asked to remove off of you.
You’re too embarrassed to answer him, still slightly hesitant to continue going, you can feel your cheeks heat up into a burning mess and you’re scared that if you speak you’ll make a fool of yourself, so instead you nod slowly, trying to calm your racing mind, moving your eyes elsewhere in hopes you wouldn’t have to see the smug look his face was sure to take.
However, he’s quick to catch your face and redirect your gaze back to himself; “Thank you.”
You let him pick you from the bed to fiddle with the claps on the back of your dress, his fingers are swift in figuring out how to free you from your outer layers, it’s almost amazing how quickly he’s able to take your clothes off until you’re clad in your modest undergarments.
Due to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving winters you often layered multiple articles of clothing and prioritized warmth over aesthetics, the thought your underwear might be underwhelming doesn’t cross your mind until you’re left with your thigh-length woolen socks and plain bra and panties. You wonder if maybe the sight would be disappointing for a man as well traveled as Childe, he’s probably seen much more appealing bodies and clothes during his travels, but that idea goes as quickly as it comes when you finally see his reaction to your partially bare body.
Even though he still wore multiple layers, you could see the way his chest had begun to fall and rise unsteadily, his cheeks have taken a feverish glow, and his breath has become noticeably ragged, the hands that held the clothes he’d recently taken off your body were clearly shaking, his fists tightened their grip on the soft fabrics of your garments until they wrinkled. His eyes never left you, even as they traveled through your body, mapping out every nook and cranny he so desperately wanted to mark and savor, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander as if afraid the minute he did you’d disappear and he’d wake up in his office, cold and alone.
“Hah…” Ajax lets out a soft moan as he takes in the sight in front of him, he feels weak and bothered as he watched your breasts rise and fall as you breathed, he lets his eyes go downwards until he’s face to face with your covered pussy and he feels his underwear slowly moisten as he catches sight of a small wet patch that had formed in your panties.
“Don’t look at me like that…” You mumble into your arms, your body instinctively tries to hide itself but your friend doesn't allow it. The minute he feels your legs try to bundle together he slots himself in between them and throws your clothes away so he can fully grasp and force them apart.
There’s silence as you both stare at each other, waiting for one of you to make the first move and fully pass the point of no return.
Surprisingly, this time it’s you who grows impatient and drags the ginger down to meet your hungry lips.
Maybe it’s because right now, Ajax felt like the only person who cared about you and you felt desperate to feel comforted, you felt betrayed and hurt and you craved to be reminded you were loved. It wasn’t healthy and a part of you felt guilty, like you were using him for momentary comfort, as if you’d forced him to come and offer his hand in marriage, if you were smarter and stronger maybe you would’ve realized what was going on and could have stopped it. But he’d said he loved you, right? You loved him, you knew you did and he’d gone and declared his love for you first, even when you were kids he was always dedicated to reminding you of his adoration, but your parents said that too and where did that lead to? He wasn’t doing this out of feeling obligated to care for you, was he?
Maybe this was a mistake, you probably should not be initiating sex with a man you haven’t seen in person in years after he came to tell you your parent had sold you off to marry some rich old, gross soldier, you instead should have sat down and talked for longer, tried figuring out what was going on and perhaps find a solution that didn’t include you marrying your childhood sweetheart, not out of love but out of fear of being forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do that, you let yourself be dragged along by his passion and desperation, you now laid in bed making out with Ajax as you desperately tried to push the thoughts of self-doubt and disgust away.
You try to focus on the present without thinking of the past nor the future; The almost one million Mora your parents had pocketed didn’t mean anything, there was no Andrei Galkin, Ajax had never left you, the Fatui didn’t exist, there hadn’t been any betrayal or hurt feelings, you were safe and you were free, there was nothing. In this room, at least for this moment, all that existed was you and Tartaglia.
His shirt is a barrier between your greedy hands and his naked body that’s becoming increasingly annoying as you parted your lips to grant him access to your all of mouth, which he gladly accepts as your tongues caress each other in a sloppy manner, you feel your teeth sometimes clash with his own but you’re too focused on tugging at his clothes, trying to get them off with the least amount of space between you both to care. They could rip, you didn’t care, you wanted to feel his body and warmth, you needed to feel alive.
Your body is starting to feel tingly, your nipples feel hard against your bra and your lower region becomes needy. You want him to touch you more but his hands are busy fiddling with your hips and waist, alternating between the two spots as he caresses and pinches your skin.
You both seem hesitant to let each other go even if it’s for something as necessary as catching your breaths, but even if things seemed to have slowed down it didn’t mean something isn't happening.
“Ajax,” your voice is soft and breathless, you feel your lungs beg you to not speak, “take ‘em off, wanna touch you…”
You gesture at his clothes, slowly running a finger around his chest and stopping at - where you guessed - his nipple was and pressing down hard.
A deep grunt of approval escaped the man’s lips at the feeling and it took him a second to nod, busy trying not to focus too much on the way he felt his cock throbbing, and back off to make way for him to take his clothes off. Childe refuses to completely climb off you, instead leaning backwards to unbutton his shirt and click off the harness he wore, his coat falling behind is his figure, and his shoes long since thrown elsewhere, his pink nipples are clearly sensitive as his eyes shut off tightly as his clothes graze them, his whole body felt on fire - as if your mere presence were an aphrodisiac to the man. Next is his pants and socks and he does his very best to be as quick as humanly possible, they’re all off in record speed and he’s soon only wearing his underwear.
The minute he’s done, he’s thrown himself back onto you as if trying to make up for the few seconds he’d parted from you.
You’re flustered as you finally feel his skin freely come in contact with yours, as if the situation slowly began sinking in just then. Not to mention, you’d caught sight of his raging boner through the thin layer of fabric that constituted his undergarments. It looked big and thick and you wondered, if you even reached that point, if it was even possible to feel good from such a thing pounding on your hole, it looked like it’d hurt more than anything. But a greedy part of you was desperate to find out how it’d feel to have all of him inside of you, to have his fat tip caressing the deepest corners of your body, painting your gummy insides white.
This time, you both skip the kissing and go straight to touching each other, this time more shamelessly and with less hesitance. Your hands find his neck and you pull his head into the crook of your neck where he dedicates his time to litter kisses across the area, you let your hands wander across his shoulders and neck, softly scratching the skin under your nails whenever he kisses a particularly sensitive spot. On the other hand, Ajax let his hands travel across your chest and cup your breasts, he molds the flesh like a stress ball, tightening his grip and pulling at them like they were toys. The feeling of your bra coming into contact with your hardening nipples makes you whimper and moan while your body contorts in an attempt to meld deeper with the man on top of you.
Your movements are restricted and awkward as you were currently caged between the bed and him, but you do your best to communicate your growing neediness.
“A-Ajax, mhmm~!” You gasp, his teeth gnaw at a spot in your neck that has a shot of neediness reaching your privates in electrifying waves, “… more, I wan’ more…”
You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he hears the desperation in your voice but he’s not better at concealing the very obvious way your words affected him; “My dove wants more? Hah—haha, a-aren’t you such a cute ‘nd needy little thing.”
You huff slightly at his teasing words but you can’t deny that the way he addressed you as “his” made you grow increasingly horny. He seems to hear your soft complaint and finally parts with your neck, which was now littered with hickies and love bites, to allow himself to gaze deeply into your eyes.
You could never deny that Ajax’s eyes were the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen, they resemble sapphires and noctilucous jade but with less shine. When you both were younger you’d spend hours gazing upon them, admiring the intensity they held. Now, however, you can’t say you aren’t slightly intimidated as he gazes at you like a predator. His hands leave your body and you’re immediately missing the warmth they provided you, in fact, you’re about to complain and ask him to touch you again when he suddenly cups your clothed pussy with his hand.
His hand is large, his fingers are long and the palm is in no way small, which meant most - if not all - of your cunt was now being held in one of his hands. His thumb is hovering over your clit and you gasp as you feel him tighten his hold and trace his fingers across your slit and up to your sensitive nub.
You squirm, letting your bottom grind against his hands, slowly building up your pleasure until you’re letting out soft moans and whines. Tartaglia decides to aid you as he himself works towards getting his member hard and oozing with release by moving his hand across your pussy and grinding on your thighs simultaneously. Your mind grows hot and dazed as you sense your pussy begin to drool, you could feel the way your juices leaked, the wet trail they’d leave and traveled across your your entrance, down your slit and across your thighs, soaking your underwear with release; you wondered if Ajax could feel your excitement too.
You could certainly feel him. His cock had long since been hard and leaking precum, you could make out through hazy eyes and desperate movements a wet patch on his boxers. It looked so big constrained against the fabric, you wanted to free his cock and feel it inside your hole, any of them, his balls seemed to hold unceremonious amounts of cum as the wetness kept growing more and more visible to you, you wondered if he’d be willing to come inside of you if you asked.
You both work together, trying to make the other as aroused as possible until someone snapped and began demanding the intercourse you both clearly wanted.
You don’t want to give in, not yet, but he’s begun to tease your slit with his fingertips and you’re growing aggravated from the empty feeling in your cunt. You feel yourself clenching onto nothing, your walls closing desperately trying to find anything to grip onto, you are growing desperate to feel something inside, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock — you wanted him inside of you, now.
“Ha… hah~” You can feel his tongue hanging from his open mouth, drool escapes his parted lips and coats your breasts, you’re surprised he’s managed to keep himself up for so long, all the training he’d endured paying off and allowing him to mount your thighs and grind his length against your skin, his expression is one of extreme arousal that makes you tense and grow lust-drunk, “T-Tell me… d’ya wanna feel my cock in your pussy yet, darling?”
“…! M—mhk?!” You let out a high pitched whine as a particular stroke of his hands delves momentarily into your clothed hole, you can feel your cum slowly dirty your underwear.
“Look at you,” he chuckles, his movements growing erratic, his ginger hair seems darker and less vibrant against his reddened face, “your… your pussy is beggin’ for me!”
“Please…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body still rocks alongside his own as he uses your body to get off and bring you close to a mind-numbing release, your voice wavers as your whole being is shocked from the pleasure Ajax’s hand toying with your clothed cunt brings, your legs twitch and your body keeps contorting and folding.
“Hmm, please what? I need you to tell me,” he mumbles, his voice takes a deep, desperate and animalistic tone as he continues, he takes his fingers and starts to circle your clit with an unimaginable force, “What do you want, huh? If you want me to fuck y-you, you’ll need to use your big girl words. Say; “I want my husband’s cock inside of me”, come on, ask for y-your husband’s cock…!”
“A~Ajax…! Please-uh…” Your body begins to hurt, your very own genitals seem to be burning in fire as you desperately try to soothe the ache in your womb and clit. You begin to rut against his hands at an embarrassing, almost objectifying, pace, absolutely desperate to cum and lift the cloud of lust that seemed to haunt you from the moment Ajax laid your body on your mattress.
“That’s not who I am,” he mumbles into your skin, his teeth beginning to bite and mark the flesh of your breast, “I’m y-your husband now, right? So, ask for it properly… hah~ won’t you?”
“… want my h-husband’s cock, I… inside of me, please,” you whine between heavy breaths, “I… want to fuck my—hah… h-husband…”
The moan that leaves his lips is loud and primal, his whole body shudders as he hears your plea. He didn’t think he could get any harder and yet hearing your shaky voice ask for him sends a rush of blood through his body and straight to his dick.
“Ahaha… that’s right, isn’t it? I-I’m your husband now,” an unsettling grin starts to form on his face, one that, if you weren’t so desperate and vulnerable, would probably have sent a shiver down your spine; it was an expression that resembled his face after ending a powerful opponent, one that meant victory was his, that he’d won, it was the face many people would see before departing the realm of the living, one of pure, unhinged bliss that could only be understood by a man such as himself, “I’m your husband, your husband… a-ah! Ha-ah, that means… hah, that means it’s my duty to fuck you, to make you feel good, a good husband makes love to his spouse, right? S-so as your husband, I get to be inside of you… a-and make you cum lots. Yeah, I… I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll feel good too… So be a good wife and take all of my love, ‘kay?”
During his incoherent rambling, which you barely could understand, he works to rid you of your underwear with desperate movements. His hands pull at the fabric with enough force that they tear, allowing him to rip the fabric off your hips and discard it on the floor. The cool air in your room hits your lower end and makes you shiver, your body had been previously engulfed by Childe’s warmth, the feeling of his own heating body and rapid blood circulation had sheltered you from the freezing temperature outside of the sinful haven between your bodies. The difference in temperature and its effect on you seems to have been noticed by your partner, who looks around the room trying to find a solution.
You want to hurry him up, tell him you didn’t mind the cold, that you just wanted to feel him inside you for the first time, but before you know it he’s pulling something from behind; his white coat soon is back on his shoulders, lazily throw on, barely holding up as he quickly pulls his underwear off. He’s quick and precise, never wasting a moment as he adjusts himself on top of you once more, this time with his bare cock leaking on your stomach.
“I’ll heat you up… inside and out, hah…” He mumbles, adjusting the coat so it covers both of you, the long, heavy material immediately worked wonders as your body regained its warmth.
You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, you’re both trembling as he slowly lowers his pelvis to meet your own. You were right, he was big and he was long and thick, but he made sure to go slowly as he inserted two fingers to stretch you out in preparation.
Your slick facilitates the intrusion, there’s not much pain as he opens and closes his fingers, curling and extending them, as if trying to gauge how far you could stretch. His cheeks are a bright red, sweat runs through his forehead as he feels your body accommodate the feeling of his fingers. Ajax was big, always taller than most in your village, and his time in the Fatui had definitely contributed to his size – his shoulders were broad, his chest chiseled, and his fingers, the ones that slowly danced inside your pussy, were long and calloused. This was your first time feeling something other than your own hands and Ajax was making sure to show you all the places you could have never reached on your own.
You don’t even realize you’d begun panting, soft whines and moans had been leaving your lips forma while now, noises that only served to encourage Ajax further. But he had to stop, he needed you both to cum together as one. Your first time together had to be romantic like that, both of you climaxing together and coming undone at the same time.
There’s a feeling of emptiness and disappointment that follows the feeling of his fingers leaving your body, you’re about to complain when you see him bring his fingers to his lips to lap at the slick that had stuck to them. You’re mesmerized at the lewd image, gazing hopelessly at the way his face melted into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. He makes sure to lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping at the cum.
You catch his eyes and they soften, a lovestruck look taking over his features, you nod and open your legs wider than before; encouraging him to finally fuck you. He positions himself outside of your opening, making sure you grasp your legs and pull them as wide apart as he physically could without hurting you.
Even with the previous preparation, your breath is knocked out of your lungs as his tip slowly makes its way through your slit, past the muscles and finally inside your gummy walls.
He uses his arms to adjust his body, making sure to be as careful as possible as to not hurt you. This was your first time making love to each other, and he’d be damned if he were the one to cause you pain.
He gives you a second before pushing the rest in, he’s still slow, attempting to coax your body into adjusting to the feeling of being so full. His blue eyes are closed, his breath is heavy and you can feel the bed shake as he tries to control himself, you’re not faring much better, your head felt light as all your body could seemingly concentrate on was the feeling between your legs, your body was heating up and you could feel the warmth radiate off your skin.
You know he’s fully sheathed himself when you feel the soft “thud” of his balls hitting your ass, you’ve become hyper aware of the proximity and situation you’re in as his cock begins to throb inside of your pussy, his head comes to rest on the crook of your neck as you both adjust to the feeling of each other's body.
A moment passes, your walls that had previously been gripping Ajax like a lifeline slowly weaken, finally allowing both of you to relax and begin to experiment.
“I-I’ll start…” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as if feeling shy, he begins to move around as if to grip the bed’s headboard, all while still inside you, his arms allowing him to cover your body from the world.
As you look up, you realize how he’s become all you see, his imposing frame and coat acting as a curtain blocking the outside from entering your view. Your heart feels heavy but you try and pay it no mind.
The movements are slow and clumsy at first, his cock never truly leaves your warmth fully, his tip always kept inside of your cunt - one way or another. The feeling is strange, you’re not used to the way his length would gaze at your walls or the feeling of the veins on his dick caressing spots inside of you that made you gasp and curl your toes. It’s new and it takes some adjusting before you begin to rock your own hips to meet his, suddenly it begins to feel good, really good in fact. There was something about the stretch, maybe it was the feeling of being so full, the way his cock curved and hit spongy spots in your pussy becomes addicting, or maybe it was the fat vein that decorated the underside of his cock, but it wasn’t long until you’re trying to entice a faster, tougher pace.
He takes his time teasing and easing you into the rhythm of sex, he wouldn’t tell you, but a part of him was scared that if he picked up his pace he wouldn’t be able to stop until you were leaking his cum - not to mention, he wasn’t sure he’d last long if he started to fuck you even faster. The feeling of your walls gripping him was divine, there are moments his thrusts grow unsteady and out of sync, as if his body was trying to take control and allow itself to set the animalistic pace he so desperately wanted, it’s these exact moments where his patience is tested, where he wants nothing more than to pick up your body and use it as a toy to fill with his semen.
“I wan’ more,'' you moan and he freezes as he feels your hips pathetically lift up to meet his heated thrust, your lower region coming up and rolling, rocking, and sloppily caressing his own pelvis in an attempt to suck him deeper into your sex, this was the first time you’d ever experienced such fullness and pleasure, your mind was numb and you’d forgotten all about previous sorrows, you truly wanted to feel more and more until all you could think of was Ajax’s cock and feeling good, “… wan’na feel my… my husband’s c-cock…?!”
At the title, the ginger truly can’t help the way his hips basically crash into yours, it was purely instinctual – just the sound of your calling him yours and acknowledging him as your husband, even if you’d only gotten engaged less than an hour ago, was enough to drive him mad with lust. He feels his head grow dizzy as thoughts of breeding you and claiming you as his take over. It’s as if a switch is turned on because from that moment onwards the atmosphere changed completely.
His previously considerate and soft strokes become harsh and rapid, you can feel your bed move rhythmically with his thrusts, your whole body jolts as he begins to fuck you with the sole goal of filling you so deeply your body was to be conditioned to respond lewdly to his mere presence. They’re deeper too as he now focused on feeling and claiming as much of your hole as possible, it’s impossible not to feel the way his cock imprinted itself deeply inside your body.
Your hands are desperate to grasp onto something, so you clutch at the sheets under you as tightly as possible, your body feels hot and heavy; your legs twitch and you're left gasping as Childe grabs your hips to adjust your position. You’re still lying down but your back arches itself to allow him easy access to your bottom, it’s surprising how easily he’s able to manhandle your body while never quite pulling out, always making sure to insert himself as quickly as he exited, never truly pulling out all of his dick.
The new position allows for him to hurry his pace, you’re soon moving like a rag doll with no control over your limbs. You’re left a moaning, whining mess as your brain struggles to process the waves of pleasure that bloomed from deep inside your pussy.
You feel your heart beating and you can almost hear the sound of your slick pouring out and lubricating your walls, making it increasingly easy to continue the Fatui’s pounding of your cunt. You’re not too sure if you’re even able to talk, the thought of forming a coherent sentence felt farfetched, all that leaves your lips are whines, sounds of pure pleasure and bliss that sound like an orchestra to Ajax.
He’s not doing much better, his vocabulary seems to have been reduced to declarations of ownership over you, boundless love, and immense pleasure. Your name soon becomes the only coherent sound leaving his lips as he lets his head fall back, his body almost working on autopilot as he allows his hips to ram inside you while his hands focus on teasing your nipples and forcing you to face his reddening face. His chest shines with sweat as he makes sure to fill the room with the sound of your skin meeting him and the growing wet mess between your merging bodies.
You’re both soon leaking arousal, Ajax’s cock starts to slowly redden and grow inside of you as he approaches orgasm, drops of precum start to form on the tip, and your torso starts to heat up as it feels heavier the better you feel; your cum is soon coating his dick white, a clear indicator he’d been inside your drooling cunt. You let go of the sheets and bring a hand to your clit, desperate to bring yourself closer to release.
“Ah-! Just like that,” Ajax exclaims, lurching forward as he feels your walls tighten around his cock, “tighten around me like that, fu–uck! I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your pussy, gonna shoot my cum inside you… Haha–hah! You’re… you’re gonna be full with my cum, are you ready?”
You nod mindlessly, too busy playing with your clit and pressing kisses into Ajax’s skin. The feeling of being filled by your childhood sweetheart was intoxicating, it left you an overstimulated mess, moaning and whining as you gripped the man’s shoulders to bring him closer to you.
You couldn’t tell who came first, only that your final push was the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours. Maybe it’s the desperation you felt radiating off him as his tongue caressed your own, the way his hands tighten around your body as he begins unloading his cum begins seeping into your pussy and deep inside your body. You’re a shaking mess as you continue riding your orgasm on his dick, prolonging the pleasurable feeling by rocking your hips into his in an almost shy manner, it’s addicting and you’re left gasping and moaning for more. On the other hand, Ajax was trembling on top of you, his arms seemingly giving out as he collapsed into your body, allowing his head to rest beside your own on your pillows while his cock throbbed and painted your insides with his cum. He gives a few weak thrusts, as if making sure that his balls have been thoroughly emptied, before he looks over at your panting face.
You’re trying to catch your breath, desperately trying to calm your heart down into a stable rhythm, while your body twitches in a post-orgasm afterglow. You’re sweating, your eyes shut tight as you feel your pussy swell around Ajax’s dick, which was very much still inside you, and grow sensitive. Even in this state, where you’re too shaken to do anything other than breathe and try to relax your body, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
His hand, which trembled ever so slightly, travels to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. He subconsciously traces your ring-finger, trying to estimate your size, you’d accepted his proposal, going as far as acknowledging him as your husband, it was now his responsibility to find a suitable ring for you, one worthy of resting on your fingers.
He smiles, cuddling deep into your bare skin, pressing his softening cock deeper into you, which earns him a soft whine from you, essentially plugging his semen inside your pussy.
“… I love you, Ajax.” You mumble, eyes still closed shut, your voice drowsy and far away as exhaustion slowly catches up to you. Today had been hard on you, physically and mentally, you’d learnt more than you’d wished to have known, your relationship with those around you now forever changed; you’d agreed to marry your childhood friend in response to your parents’ betrayal, you’d given up your virginity to him and now laid in bed, struggling to know if you’d made the right decisions. An inner turmoil was growing inside you, a storm of emotions you were not ready to deal with, but right now, as you lay beneath the man who’d promised to save you, you decide to rest and let him take care of it, for now. Your breathing slows down, your body finally succumbing to sleep.
You’re too tired to hear the sound of the front door unlocking, your mother’s voice booming across the house as she calls out for you as she ushers your father and guests inside your family house. Ajax makes no move to leave your bed or even remove himself from inside of you, not even as he recognizes the distinct sound of footsteps that belonged to your parents moving around downstairs, grinnin softly as he hears your mother call out for you again, while your father talked to someone and merrily laughed, joking around, easing the tension of the first meeting between two people set up in an arranged marriage – where only one of them knew.
He can hear your parents talking, making an excuse at where you were, he can hear your mother climb up the stairs, he can hear her getting closer to your room.
What a lousy move, he thought to himself, to ambush you one day and try to dump the news on top of you like this, you didn’t even seem aware of guests coming over to your home at all, he frowned; he had expected more of uncle and auntie. Alas, he’d long since given up on them, he just hopes your mother doesn’t scream too loudly when she sees you two in bed together.
He’d hate for you to wake up to such an awful shriek.
There’s a knock on your door, Ajax smiles but makes no move to answer, and then another as your mother calls out your name. She sighs before threatening to open the door, Ajax has to stifle a giggle, pressing his lips into your shoulder to not let out any noise, too afraid to ruin the surprise for his soon to be mother-in-law, she hears no response, she clearly feels agitated and annoyed, he can hear it the way she knocks once more with a stern calling of your name.
There’s a second of silence before the door is swung open.
Ajax looks over to your mother, his coat covering both your naked forms enough that a semblance of modesty is kept but not enough that what happened between the two of you was misunderstood, it would be clear to anyone who could walk in, and he smiles, leaning his body into your own, further embracing you and pushing your sleeping face into his chest, he rolls over as a playful wave is sent her way, she stands frozen in place. Your bottom halves are still covered by the oversized coat, but the bruises and bites that litter your bodies are enough to paint a picture, his hand moves to caress your body, a smug smile takes over his features as he watches your mother try to come up with the right words to say.
“Hello, ma’am,” his tone is playful but the look on his face is one of pure venom, she looks beyond flustered but isn’t able to say a word; too shaken by the sight, the combination of her daughter and a man in bed together and the Harbinger’s insignia that seemed to shine with even the smallest movements from the ginger was enough to send her stumbling back, “it’s been a while, we have a lot to catch up on, huh?”
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Arrows and Ashes
You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?
WC: 4.7k
Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.
Part 2
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Drip. Drip. Drip.
It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.
How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?
It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.
From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.
You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.
You might not make it out of here.
You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.
Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.
If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.
But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.
"Cassian..."
"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."
He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.
You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.
“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."
Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.
Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.
Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.
Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?
The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.
They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...
But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.
So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.
You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.
But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.
Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.
Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.
"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."
But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.
The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.
The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.
"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."
Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.
Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.
Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.
"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."
You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.
You were alive. You were strong.
There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.
You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.
It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.
You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.
Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.
It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.
You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.
You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.
Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.
Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.
You thought you heard Cassian retching.
And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.
Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.
But everything ached and stung.
As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.
You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.
Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.
And then you were going in and out of darkness.
There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.
But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.
You’d hear glimpses.
You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.
Big threats from a bedridden brute.
You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.
You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.
And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.
“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”
But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?
You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.
Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.
“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”
You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.
“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.
“Do you want her to live?”
You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.
Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.
Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.
It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.
Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.
Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.
You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.
It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-
“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.
Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.
Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?
You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.
“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”
You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.
A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.
You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.
“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.
“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.
“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.
“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”
Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.
His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.
Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.
“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.
You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.
“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”
Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.
You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.
You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.
"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."
You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.
Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.
You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.
But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.
Did it look as bad as it felt?
You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.
He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.
His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.
“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.
Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.
“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”
“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.
Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”
You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.
Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”
Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.
You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.
But you didn't.
“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.
“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.
Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.
“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.
You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.
“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”
And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.
Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”
He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.
A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”
Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.
“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.
It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.
Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”
“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.
You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...
“Keep her awake.”
Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.
And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.
“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”
Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.
“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."
You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.
"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”
His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.
Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.
Now you were just tired. So so tired.
“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”
But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.
Azriel was here. You were safe.
“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.
His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.
The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.
“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”
Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.
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zhongrin · 18 days
Text
honey, can you… oh shit wait i forgot we’re not dating (yet)
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© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, non-established relationship, potential secondhand embarrassment, boyfailure neuvillette (/aff)
✼ a/n ┈ zhongrin uploaded 3 weeks in a row?! madness!!! utter madness!!!! /silly i feel like i've been writing too much cutesy/sfw stuff lately.... i want to write 'darker' types of stuff but my brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate ugh pain
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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zhongli watches your reaction closely, at first.
when he deduces that you were self-aware of your own oversight and are evidently panicking about it, he gives you a warm chuckle and shakes his head gently, “there is no need to apologize, and please do not feel mortified in any way. it really is fine.”
if you continue to not believe him, the ex-archon will be as patient as ever with his words of reassurances, and he does not mind repeating them until you feel comfortable enough to ask him the real errand that you wished to bestow upon him.
... but not before he gently places a hand to the small of your back to lead you to walk a little closer to him due to the increasing crowd on the streets, his voice a tender caress to your ear, “coming from you, i certainly did not mind the nickname.”
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al haitham raises his eyebrows and shuts his book, “what a fascinating blunder. is that how you view our relationship subconsciously? or perhaps it’s an innate desire you’ve chosen to suppress but accidentally slipped out in a moment of unawareness?”
the scholar has the decency to wait for your answer betwixt your embarrassment, but he eventually sighs when you failed to form a coherent answer that satisfied his inquiries.
“you seem to have the impression that i am displeased at your err. i’d like to inform you that your assumption is yet another mistake - which, i would theorize, was made in the rush of the moment as your nervous system kicks into gear, therefore clouding your judgement. i would suggest you take a few moments to reanalyze my stance based on this new information. i’ll wait.”
and with that, he opens his book once more.
.... um.
congratulations, i guess?
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wriothesley takes the opportunity and replies with a cheeky, “yes, honey? what can i do for you, sweetheart?”
he relishes in the utter embarrassment that quickly spread across your face that’s akin to water faced with his cryo elemental energy (though secretly he’s also dying inside at the cheesiness of the situation) and throws you a boyish grin before ruffling your hair.
not a man to let an opportunity escape, the duke decides to leverage the moment to take his metaphorical shot and goes immediately for a straight jab, like an experienced boxer that he is, all the while praying to the hydro archon so that this would be yet another match he could flawlessly win, “you know, my schedule’s particularly relaxed today… i wouldn’t mind staying longer if you want to make it a date?”
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neuvillette blinks owlishly, his pale cheeks blooming with warmth as the situation starts to sink in. you, the apple of his eye, whom he treasured dearly and had taken great care to court, had just called him with a term of endearment that he had always dreamed of hearing.
wait, was this a dream? his gloved hands quickly found purchase on his blue horns, before he brought his hands in front of his eyes. okay, he had two horns and ten fingers, still. so he must not have daydreamed this. ah- wait, you’re staring at him. oh, now you’re giggling. and now you’re calling him silly. oh, it should be a crime to be so breathtakingー
it’s not until your expression changed into surprise that he realized he had said that thought outloud.
your teasing “if it’s a crime, are you going to put me on trial, monsieur?” elicits a darker blush on his pale cheeks and an awkward cough out of him.
.... this must be how the young ones flirt nowadays.
“perhaps after a proper date? if it’s not impertinent of me, may i be allowed to take you out on dinner tonight?”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈
@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths
@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader
@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie
@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone
@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee
@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc
@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer
3K notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 3 months
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🤍give up heaven: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k
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synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.
genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.
warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!
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You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 
His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?
You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 
After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 
“Y/N?” 
Well, shit.
There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 
You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 
Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 
“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 
You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 
“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 
You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 
Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 
You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 
Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 
You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 
His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 
It felt like old times. 
Speaking about old times…
His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 
His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 
Oh…he’s still in love with her.
Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 
“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 
Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 
It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 
Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 
He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 
After that, they were inseparable. 
Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 
The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 
Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 
Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 
You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 
You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 
You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 
And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 
“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 
Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 
Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 
You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 
Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 
The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 
You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”
“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 
Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 
You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 
He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”
You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 
You agreed. 
Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 
You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 
“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 
“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.
“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 
Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 
You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 
She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 
You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 
But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 
You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 
You decided to anyway. 
“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 
Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 
You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 
You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 
“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 
Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 
You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 
Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 
You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 
A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 
You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 
Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 
You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 
You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 
The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 
You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?
“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 
Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?
You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 
Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 
Well shit, now you feel bad. 
You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 
Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 
The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 
His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 
You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 
Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 
You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 
Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 
You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 
Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 
You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 
You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 
Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 
You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 
Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 
Damn, does he remember the small details of you?
“You remember that?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 
Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 
All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”
Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 
“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 
Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 
“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 
He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”
That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 
You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 
“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 
You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 
Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 
Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 
Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 
You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 
Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 
Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.
You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 
You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 
Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 
Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 
Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 
Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 
“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 
“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 
“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 
That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 
Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”
You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?
“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 
Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 
He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”
You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 
With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 
Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.
Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”
Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 
“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 
Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 
“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 
Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 
Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 
“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 
“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 
Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 
Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 
Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”
Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“
“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 
Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 
Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”
It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 
Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 
Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 
“Hoon-“
“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 
Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 
Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 
“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 
Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 
Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 
Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 
I just wanted her back in my life again. 
He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 
I’m so fucking pathetic. 
Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 
Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.
Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 
Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 
He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 
“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 
You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 
You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 
“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 
You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 
Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 
“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 
The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 
He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 
Oh fuck I am a goner. 
Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 
Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 
You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 
Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 
“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 
Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 
Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 
Their coach finally started practice. 
It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 
“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 
“It was very interesting, you played well.” 
Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 
Your heart sank. 
Is he…flirting???
“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 
Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 
“But—“ 
Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 
You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 
Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???
“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 
You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 
You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 
You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 
“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 
You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 
Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 
You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 
“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 
Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 
His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 
You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 
Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 
Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 
As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 
Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 
“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 
You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 
Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 
You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 
You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 
Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.
You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 
Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 
You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 
Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 
“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 
You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 
Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 
God, she’s so cute. 
You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 
“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”
You nodded. 
You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 
It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 
You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 
Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 
Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 
Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  
You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 
Why do I even care how my hair looks? 
You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 
The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 
“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 
You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 
It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 
His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 
While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 
Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 
The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 
He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 
You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 
Unfortunately, they didn’t. 
You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 
You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 
You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 
His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 
You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 
You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 
By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 
Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 
Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 
Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 
God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 
Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 
He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 
The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 
Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 
Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 
“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 
Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 
Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 
Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 
Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 
Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 
His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 
The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 
You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 
Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 
Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  
Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.
As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 
Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 
You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 
Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 
The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 
Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 
He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 
We won..!!
Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 
You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 
He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 
His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 
Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 
He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 
You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 
His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 
His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 
You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 
You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 
Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 
It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 
“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 
So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 
Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 
He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 
Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 
He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 
You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 
You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 
His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 
Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 
Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 
He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 
He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 
He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 
His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 
You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 
You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 
Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 
You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 
Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 
You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 
His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 
Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 
He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 
You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 
“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 
Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 
“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 
He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 
You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 
You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 
Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 
Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 
He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 
He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.
His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 
“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 
Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 
Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 
He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 
You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 
Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 
His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 
Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 
Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?
Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 
Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 
Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 
Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 
Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 
Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 
Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 
He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 
You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 
The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 
He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 
You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 
Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 
You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.
Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 
You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 
“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 
“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 
Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 
Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 
His smile faded, why would she be calling you?
You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 
Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 
Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 
You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 
Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 
You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 
“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 
You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 
Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 
She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 
The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 
The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 
“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 
You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 
He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 
You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 
Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 
You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 
“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 
You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 
It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 
Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 
He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 
“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 
You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 
Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 
He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 
You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 
His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 
“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 
You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 
Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 
The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 
You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 
You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 
“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 
Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 
Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 
“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 
She knows she’s got to know.
She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 
You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 
She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 
“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 
She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 
She definitely knows. 
You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 
You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 
The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 
Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 
“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 
She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 
You were surprised how calm he was. 
“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 
“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 
She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 
Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 
Does this bitch think I am stupid?
“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 
She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 
“Don’t touch me.” 
You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 
“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 
Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 
She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”
“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 
A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 
Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?
She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 
“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 
“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 
Oh, she’s going there? Game on.
Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”
“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.
“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 
“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 
“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 
“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 
You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 
He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 
He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 
“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 
Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 
“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 
Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 
“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 
She’s known since the beginning.
“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 
Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 
“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 
She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 
Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 
“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 
The…truth?
Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 
You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 
Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 
Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 
Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 
You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 
Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 
You looked back at her, “Well??” 
“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 
“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 
“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 
“Then…why…” 
“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 
You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 
“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 
“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 
“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 
“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 
“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 
With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 
Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 
You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?
You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 
Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 
Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 
“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 
She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 
“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 
He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.
“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 
Oh, she did not.
Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 
You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?
Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 
He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 
She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 
“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 
Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 
He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 
“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 
You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 
“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 
You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”
It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 
Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 
“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 
He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 
“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 
Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 
Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 
God, he really was the luckiest man alive.
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jobean12-blog · 2 months
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Boom Clap
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,063
Summary: Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.
Author's Note: Just because, I love him and this look ends me every time and it's lightly based on this song Boom Clap by Charli XCX. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you 🥰
Warnings: it's just Bucky being irresistible and soft too
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“Well, something clearly more interesting than this conversation is going on in your mind. Would you like to share it with the rest of us?”
Two pairs of glittering eyes stare at you, twin knowing smiles gracing your friend’s lips and you frantically try to recall what the three of you had been discussing.
“There’s only one thing that can be giving her that look,” Nat laughs. “A man.”
“And not just any,” Wanda adds.
“Bucky,” both women say simultaneously and with devious grins.
You sip your drink to hide your smile.
“You must miss him since he’s been away on the mission all week,” Wanda muses.
You don’t say it but you do miss him. A lot.
“So what exactly is going on with you two?” Nat asks
With a nonchalant shrug you sip your drink again and try to figure out how to label your relationship with Bucky. Your friends wait, expressions expectant but playful.
If you had a definitive answer you would share it but ever since the two of you started hanging out neither of you had given it a label. You were just enjoying each other. In every way. You were happy being with him, that much of which you were sure.
“Umm…” you start.
That’s the only word you get out before you see Wanda and Nat’s drinks pause halfway to their mouths. Their eyes are trained on something just beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the bar.
Several other women at the bar pause their own conversation and you sense the shift in energy.
He’s here.
You place your drink down on the bar and turn. Bucky stands just inside the doorway, his black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.
Awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. Your pulse quickens and you fight the urge to run into his arms.
He wears all black, from his tight fitted shirt down to his leather boots and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair. When he walks toward you at the bar, he moves with such sensual purpose that you notice another woman swooning.
He looks hungry and determined.
And he’s here for you.
You reach out and grab your drink, downing it in one long sip.
Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, then your palm, then finally, your fingertips.
This time, you hear the breath woosh from Nat and Wanda but Bucky shows no reaction, appearing oblivious to anything else but you.
“Guess he’s back,” Nat whispers to Wanda. You barely catch the words as Bucky consumes your every thought.
“I missed you doll,” he whispers against your wrist.
“I missed you too,” you reply breathlessly.
He lowers your hand from his mouth and keeps hold of it between your bodies. With a soft tug he brings you closer, leaning into your neck and whispering along the shell of your ear.
“Come home with me?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” you murmur.
“Yes, I do doll. I would never take you for granted.”
Your free hand slides up his chest to his jaw, tracing the outline before you softly press your lips to his. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathes you in.
“I’m just going to use the restroom and say goodbye to Nat and Wanda. Meet you back here in five.”
“Hurry,” he murmurs, letting his eyes sparkle with words of unspoken want.
You rush off toward the bathroom, Nat and Wanda right behind you and after relieving yourself and filling your friends in you search for Bucky’s tall figure.
You find him standing at the bar, taking to someone. As you get closer, you see that the woman is standing close enough to brush against him. Unable to see Bucky’s face, you watch as she runs a hand along his arm with a gentle squeeze of his bicep, smiling at him flirtatiously.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel your eyes well with unshed tears but you can’t stop your forward movement. Bucky’s face comes into view. His eyes aren’t on the woman but furiously scanning the room. He looks uncomfortable, backing away from her and saying something you can’t hear.
You consider turning and running out but that wouldn’t be fair. You and Bucky have no official label, have never agreed to be exclusive. You can’t even blame the other woman for approaching him. He’s impossible to resist. You should know.
But then his eyes meet yours and you see all the emotions rushing through them, but mostly you see relief.
Taking a deep breath, you continue to walk forward. Bucky holds his arm out, his eyes begging you to walk into his embrace.
You slide into his side in time to hear him say, “here she is. This is my…”
“Girlfriend,” you finish, smiling and extending your hand with your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, lucky girl,” the woman says as she shakes your hand. “You deserve an award for landing a man like this.”
“I don’t need an award. I’ve got him,” you say as you reach down and take his left hand in yours.
Your eyes meet Bucky’s. “Ready to take me home Buck?”
“Always doll.”
Your hand stays tightly tucked in Bucky’s as you walk down the street toward his apartment. You turn toward him, the warm breeze caressing your skin and the city lights dancing in your eyes. His breath catches in his throat as your lips spread into a wide and reassuring smile.
He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls you flush against his chest, his eyes wandering over your face.
“Are you really mine?” he asks as he dips his head. “You’re really my girl?”
“Yours Bucky. I have been from the beginning.”
His fingers spread across your lower back and he slowly drags his hand along the curve of your spine, every inch he covers pressing you closer against him until he reaches your neck and traces the delicate column before cradling your cheek.
He sweeps his thumb along your skin and holds your lips just centimeters from his, whispering, “mine,” as his eyes close and his mouth captures yours.
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@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
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luveline · 18 days
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Hi Jade!! I love your writing so much! you wrote a few fics of postprison!reid with kinda shy!reader like the one where she faints and I loved that dynamic and that Reid, do you think you could write some more? pls pls pls <3333333
cw non-consensual drug use /reader is spiked 
Spencer is quite gorgeous. He has a great smile, soft and a little shy without teeth, exuberantly bright like a commercial with teeth. He’s smiling like he can read your mind now, fishing for your hand, and taking it into both of his. Your pinky in one hand and your index the other, he wriggles your hand back and forth and laughs softly. “You don’t handle inebriation well.” 
“What?” you ask, startled. You can’t believe he’s touching you like this, casual, like he’s your boyfriend. Your hot boyfriend.
“You think I’m hot?” 
You squint at him. “What?” you ask. 
He covers your hand gently with both of his. “Nevermind. Do you want something to eat now?” 
“No.” You’ll throw up. Chunks, probably, your breakfast. And it wasn’t even a healthy breakfast. It was waffles and whipped cream and then a donut on the way to the office, Spencer will be able to tell, he’s too smart, he’s too everything. 
“I’m not that smart,” he says kindly. 
That’s a straight up lie. 
He laughs heartily, at odds with his quiet talking, and you’re so confused because it’s like he’s reading your mind? Can he read your mind? There’s so much stuff about yourself you don’t want him to know, your chest hurts thinking about it, you don’t want to tell him anything—
“I think I’ll go find you a hot chocolate,” Spencer says, the sleeve of his shirt falling down unbuttoned to his wrist as he stands. He pushes it back up. He is surprisingly underdressed today and you’ve no idea why. “Does that sound nice?” 
“I don’t think you should leave.” 
“I don’t want you to tell me stuff you don’t want to tell me,” he says. 
“But if you leave I’ll be by myself.” You sound strange to your ears. Crackly, like a garden fire.
Spencer perches himself on the hospital bed next to you. You’re sitting cross-cross on the tight white and blue sheets, waiting for something? Something was supposed to happen, you know that. A doctor was going to take your blood. You look down at the crook of your elbow to find they already have, a cotton pad medical-taped to the skin. 
“I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to go,” he says, taking your arm into his hands with the same care he’d shown your fingers. He lifts the corner of the tape and begins to pull it away from the direction it had been stuck in, stretching it, and removing it from you without any pain. 
“Where did you learn that?” you ask. 
Spencer holds your arm in his hand now the cotton ball is done. “Learn what?” 
You’re not interested in asking him again. Weirdly, your throat feels dry, but you won’t tell him because he’ll offer hot chocolate again and you don’t want him to go. 
“Hey,” he says, “not going anywhere until it wears off. Not if you need me.” 
How does he always know what to say? 
“You know, why don’t you get into bed and lay down for a little bit? You must be tired, sitting up. It’s so late.” His voice is a sheet of silk. 
“I thought we were going home?” you ask. 
“We can’t, bub,” —that’s a new one— “not for now. But we will tonight, I promise.” 
“Why not now?” 
He smiles sadly. “‘Cos you’re coming down, Y/N.” 
You frown. “Oh.” 
“I know.” Spencer wraps and arm around your back. “But you’re not alone.” He ducks in until your faces are almost touching. “You know? It’ll go away soon.” 
You don’t know why you say it, but you say, “You’re so nice to me. Even when you’re scary.” 
“Am I scary?” he murmurs. 
You look at him long and hard, feeling the warm rub of his thumb as he smooths a short line into your back. Spencer is intimidating, maybe, because you hadn’t known him when he got out of prison, and he's pretty like a model, or a movie star. But he isn’t scary. That’s not the right word. 
“No,” you say. “I guess not.” You pause. “I feel weird.” 
He doesn’t laugh like you, just hugs you tighter. “It’ll get better.” 
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sttoru · 1 month
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✸ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔: satoru unexpectedly comes back home to his family after being gone on a week long business trip. .
word count. 1.6k +
tags. girl dad!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, tiny bits of angst, overall sfw. reader gets called 'mama; pretty, sweetheart, baby'. satoru being a good husband and dad. your daughter is around 2-3 years old.
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the apartment is silent, something you aren’t used to. normally, you would not catch a break from the loud voices ringing in your ears twenty-four seven. it’d either be your husband’s or your daughter’s. or if they’ve teamed up to bother you, it’d be both. it’s been so long since the three of you were together. way too long.
satoru has been gone on this business trip for a week now. seven days without him is seven days without your other half. you feel empty for some reason, even if you have your lovely child who makes every day much better. you just can’t help but worry about your husband.
“mama, look!” your toddler calls out from the living room. you blink and find yourself back in the kitchen, instead of deep within your thoughts. you faintly smile at the adorable voice of your daughter. it reminds you that you’re not alone.
you walk into the living space and look around before spotting the toddler at the window walls. she’s pulled the curtains to the side so she could admire the scenery outside of your cozy apartment. you watch her excitedly jump up and down—like she’s discovered a big treasure.
“it’s raining!” she continues, running towards you and dragging you along to watch the raindrops fall onto the windows. you nod at her observation and pick her up. you kiss her cheek and gaze into her blue eyes, “yeah, it is! you’re such a smart girl.”
“yaayy! smart!” she giggles and nuzzles her cheek against yours. you wholeheartedly accept the affection with a warm laugh of your own. you both watch as it pours—from your perspective, the people below you look like small creatures, running around to get inside. you get lost in thought again at the sight.
you can’t help but wonder if it’s also raining where Satoru is. you hope he’s taken shelter by now, even though you know his infinity could easily block any rain from wetting his clothes. you don’t know what it is, but you’re undoubtedly worried sick about your husband whenever he is gone for too long.
“mama!” your toddler gasps and tugs at your clothes. your dissociating ends for a second because of the child in your arms. you absentmindedly hum and pat her back, letting her know that you’ve heard her. you’re too focused on your own thoughts and the gloomy scenery outside to hear anything else.
“mama! mama!” your daughter continues. this time, she kicks her legs, desperately seeking your attention. you kiss her cheek in response, still zoning out. she squeaks and giggles due to something. when she squirms too much in your embrace, you figure that it’s because she wants to be let down.
you crouch and allow your daughter back on her feet. you’re finally able to notice how she keeps staring at something behind you. she’s grinning from ear to ear, her tiny hand still tugging at your sleeve like she’s trying to notify you of something. her other hand points at the space behind you, “papa!”
you freeze. you don’t know whether you should turn around or not. is she joking around with you?
you tilt your head, patting your daughter’s head tenderly, her white hair as soft and fluffy as the one who’s she called out to, “papa? papa’s working, baby.”
a familiar chuckle softly reverberates through the room. one so smooth and nice to the ears; one that you immediately recognize as your lover’s. you nearly snap your neck by how fast you turn your head.
it must be a dream, you conclude. you can’t believe what you’re seeing. there he is, the man you’ve been praying to see. he stands there so casually, as if he’s planned this all, his hands in his pockets.
your husband smiles at you and your daughter. he’s more than happy to be back home as well.
“well, hello to you too, sweetheart,” satoru snickers, seeing your shocked expression. you’re frozen in place and have no clue how to react. you did not expect to see him any time soon nor did you even hear him come back in the first place.
“papa!” your daughter can’t hold her excitement anymore and jumps into her father’s arms. satoru happily accepts her hug and peppers her face with kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.
he twirls her around before squeezing her tiny body to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “mm. i missed you so much, baby girl. so so so much.”
you’re left somewhat processing the entire thing. you watch as satoru interacts with your toddler, tightly hugging her until she’s playfully whining about the lack of air.
he gives her a firm peck on her forehead and eventually puts her down, ruffling her hair affectionately, “you promised to be a good little girl for mama while i was gone, right?”
“yeah! been a rweaaally good girl f’ mama,” she nods repeatedly and clings onto satoru’s leg, awaiting praise for her good behavior. the white-haired man lets out a low chuckle and pinches her chubby cheeks in a gentle manner, “i knew my little girl wouldn’t let me down, heheh.”
you try to articulate some words, but nothing comes out. you take a step forward once you’re ready to face reality. your bottom lip trembles as the all the experienced emotions overwhelm you.
satoru instantly notices and smiles, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. which you immediately do.
“aww, there’s my pretty wife,” satoru sighs in relief, pleased to have the love of his life back in his strong arms. it’s like all the stress he’s felt throughout his seven-day long mission has evaporated. the same goes for the weary state his body was in before setting foot in your shared space.
the tears stream down your cheeks. they’re happy tears—tears of relief. all your worries are eliminated as your lover is now safe and sound before you.
satoru allows you to cry it out, not minding his clothes getting wet. your precious tears wetting his uniform is much better than the pouring rain doing so.
“it’s okay. ‘m here now,” satoru coos. he kisses the tip of your ear, moving down to your earlobe before showing your neck the same affection. his romantic touch is one you’ve missed greatly.
his big hands rub up and down your back, his lips trying to distract you from the tears. he moves to cup your face and leaves a warm kiss on your forehead, “you’re so precious. you did so well while i was gone, baby.”
satoru knows it must’ve been tough to take care of your daughter alone, whilst simultaneously taking care of all chores around the house. you’re the strongest woman he knows. his eyes sparkle with love as he wipes the tears from your cheeks, “there, there. .”
you sniff and cup satoru’s face this time, touching him like you’re making sure that he’s indeed real. You look around for any possible scratches but find none. luckily.
your voice is shaky as you speak up for the first time in a while, “welcome back, honey. i missed you s’much.”
your husband bites his lip at the sound of your voice cracks. your looks are captivating, even more when you’re so emotional. your beautiful eyes that glimmer with tears lure him in without fail. he’s longed for this. to see you and hold you again, without relying on some pictures on his phone.
he can’t hold back the urges within him any longer.
“c’mere,” satoru hisses, an unexpected switch in his tone. he suddenly pulls your body flush against his, his head lowering so his lips could crash down onto yours. your eyes widen at the abrupt gesture, but you quickly close them to fully enjoy the sensations. you hold him close to you while you return the kiss.
after a couple seconds, you both pull away, out of breath by the sudden moment of pure passion. the sorcerer grins and hugs you again. satoru rests his chin on top of your head and allows you to catch your breath, “i’m glad to be back.”
the soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass of the windows continues in the background. it’s a peaceful moment—two lovers reunited in their safe space. this is all you’ve wished for.
the sounds of wrappers falling to the floor and someone rummaging through plastic bags put an end to the sweet atmosphere between satoru and you. you both look to the side at the same time, only to find out that your daughter’s already been snacking on the goodies that satoru bought back from his trip.
the two of you burst out into laughter at the sight of the toddler munching on some chocolate, her cheeks as well as her hands being a complete mess. you were far too engrossed in your shared affection to notice that the little child has snuck off to inspect the bags on the coffee table.
“yummy!” your daughter exclaims once she notices that both her parents have caught her red handed. she reaches her arm out towards you, a half eaten piece of chocolate in her dirty little hand, “mama try.”
“no no, thank you. it’s all yours,” you giggle and shake your head. she’s too cute to scold and you can easily guess that satoru seems to agree with that statement. he walks over to the little girl and boops her nose lovingly.
“she’s got a sweet tooth jus’ like her papa, hm?” satoru comments light-heartedly. he grabs a nearby tissue and starts to clean the area around her cheeks, hoping to lessen the damage that’s already been done.
he truly missed this. the comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.
“jus’ like papa!” your daughter innocently repeats after satoru as he cleans her up, causing the both of you to laugh again.
you’re happy to have your family back together.
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jelluf1sh · 2 months
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౨ৎ — alt. ending!
there were few things gojo loved about life. a handful of simple joys that made his — frankly, tiring — existence as the world’s strongest sorcerer just a pinch better.
one of them was your face. a vague first, and he knows that, but that doesn’t change his answer.
“satoru, look. look how many there are!”
look at you, fascinated with something as simple as jellyfish, your eyes illuminated by the blue luminescence of the bubbling tank, your palms pressed to the glass as if you’d never even heard of a sea creature before. he’d never given a second thought to things like that, but he’d buy you the entire aquarium to keep that smile on your face.
“mhmm,” he murmurs, "real pretty.” not once had he taken his eyes off you. even with six of them, he could never get tired of the way your cheeks stretch and your lips show off your teeth.
the second thing was the way you looked at him.
or maybe, he'd told himself countless times, times late at night when his thoughts raced with you, times when he felt his heart ache and pull against his ribs, begging his lips to spill words that his brain told him to keep in, maybe you look at the whole world like that. he wouldn’t be surprised if you did. the way your eyes gleamed when you stared at something you loved — satoru gojo never thought he could be jealous of an inanimate object until he met you.
the third thing was the fact that you didn’t know how he felt. it was a bittersweet, slightly addicting feeling, like candy with a sour coating and a sugary aftertaste. he’d thought out how to tell you: that was why you were at the aquarium right now, though he’d disguised the very obvious date as another hangout when he’d first texted you.
“i didn’t know there were so many different kinds,” you continued to ramble, your hands still pressed to the tank. then you turned to him with that look. that look of wonder. like a child — and gojo hated children, but when you looked at him like that…
“do you think we’re jellyfish in some other life?” such a stupid, random question, and yet his heart pounds, and he prays you can’t hear it. white lashes flutter under his sunglasses, all six eyes focused on the shape of your lips as they push out sweet words. the strongest sorcerer, prodigy of the gojo clan, reduced to something of an elementary school kid with a life-sized crush.
“…yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly when his voice nearly cracks. “yeah, probably.”
the rest of that day was spent in a comfortable bubble, just you and gojo, wandering around staring at fish. it was simple, and he’d not have it any other way. for a few hours, he could forget about it all, take in your face and feel his tiredness die out like a bad dream.
...satoru gojo swore the gods must have hated him.
he couldn’t even lift the tarp. it was white, practically red now that unimaginable amounts of blood had soaked it through. your eyes were closed now, courtesy of him — because you deserved to rest in peace, and because he couldn’t bear to see the fear preserved in them as you lay there on the table. as a reminder that he wasn't there to save you.
'killed in action'. three fucking words, and his world was turned on its head.
if had he known the aquarium was the last place you two would've been happy together, gojo would've given anything to make that day last just a few minutes longer, so he could spill his guts, pour his heart out, told you that you could be jellyfish in your next lives like he should have.
but in the end, you died without ever knowing he loved you.
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