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#like. do i make sense. am i making sense.
egophiliac · 2 days
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Why do you think they put Savannah Claw Rook up to pull??? Is he even going to participate in Book 7???? I am so confused WHY HIM??? WHY NOT IDK, CREWEL? VARGAS? MAYBE TREIN?? WHY HIM.
I’m SO CONFUSED. Is it just for money grabbing or something like that? It doesn’t make any sense.
Also how prepared you are for the probably last update of Book 7?
I mean...it said he's a story card, and all the other story cards have had major roles, so I see no reason to assume he won't as well! (plus any staff cards are probably all going to be events like Crowley was; I would honestly be MORE surprised to see them as story cards.) really though I'm having fun trying to figure out how he's going to tie into things! we're back at Cerberus Ortho levels of "WHAT DOES IT MEEEAAAAN" and it's great. :D
I assume we're going to be doing some more dream-hopping, but I think it would be hilarious if it turned out to be someone else's dream instead of Rook's. who else could possibly be dreaming about him pre-fancification.
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(I'm also half afraid that this really is the last part, and half afraid that it isn't. I'm -- I'm not going to believe anything until we get the diadorm rerun pickups, and maybe not even then)
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girlgenius1111 · 2 days
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hallmarks of sisterhood
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putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
-------
Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 
-------
“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 
Alba flushed red with anger. 
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 
------
The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 
Alexia had responded first. 
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that. 
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
-------
You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
-------
You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 
-------
Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 
Eli chuckled. “I will.” 
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 
“We really did.” Alba replied. 
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 
“We really do.” Alba agreed. 
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 
“New car?” 
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
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heavenlyhischier · 3 days
Text
𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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word count: 4.9k
summary: The one where you run into the guy who makes you believe in love all over again.
warnings: kissing, strangers to friends to lovers where they’re both a little oblivious, game mentioned is the game against philly with luke's ot goal
note: no angst?? who am i?? thank you maddy for answering my questions about luke so i could make this as accurate as possible ily
Someone once said that love comes when you least expect it and when you’re not looking for it, but you used to never believe that. You used to think that love was something you always searched for in others, that love was something everyone wanted, but you stopped believing that after it kept leaving you stranded and broken. You stopped looking for romantic love, choosing to believe that maybe it wasn’t meant for you, until one day when you’re quite literally trampled by the boy that made you believe in it all over again.
Walking the path near the water was one of your favorite pastimes since you’ve moved to the unfamiliar city. It was something that always brought you a sense of serenity whenever reality became a little too overbearing, or when you just needed a space to breathe after a particularly straining day at work. It was also your favorite way to start off your day whenever you had the time. Always a coffee in hand as you savored the peacefulness before the day truly began.
Today was one of the fortunate days when the weather wasn’t too cold that you needed more than a light jacket when you stepped outside. There weren't many people out and about as the sun had barely risen, but there were still a handful on their morning jogs or simply relaxing on the benches as they read a book. You had only looked away from the path in front of you for a brief second when you collided with something, or rather someone, and it sent your barely drank coffee to the ground, spilling all over your shoes.
“Shit,” You heard a boyish voice exclaim, his hands grasping at your biceps to keep you upright, “I’m so sorry!”
You knew it wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but grow a slight annoyance as you stared at the dropped drink. It wasn’t entirely his fault because you weren’t paying attention either and it wasn’t like you had just bought the coffee, you were just slow to drink it. Looking up at the person in front of you, your breath hitched in your throat when you saw one of the cutest guys you’d seen in the city yet. Though he looked slightly familiar, you just couldn’t place where you might have seen him.
He had a sympathetic, small smile on his face as he awkwardly dropped his hands back to his side. He had a beanie covering his hair, but there were a few strands of curls that had managed to poke out from the thick material. You were close enough to him that you can see a small scratch on the bridge of his nose that looked almost fully healed. He was quite a bit taller than you as well, his anxious eyes peering down into your own as you slowly blink at him.
“Are you okay,” He spoke again, gaze briefly filtering down to your shoes.
“Yeah,” You sigh as you step away from him, “I’m fine, but my shoes might not be.”
The both of you let out awkward chuckles before you bend down to grab the cup, slightly frowning to yourself as you bring it to your chest. When you meet his eyes again, he looks as if he was contemplating something by the way he keeps looking all around you. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie as he shifted his weight on his feet. The air is a little awkward as you think about just walking away, but he speaks before your feet ever move.
“Let me buy you a new drink,” He suggests, his voice slightly quieter than before as if he was nervous, “It’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” You shake your head, “It’s no big deal. It’s just a coffee.”
“Please,” He tries, not wanting to press so hard enough he comes off desperate, “It looked almost full based on what I can see on the ground.”
You couldn’t help but notice his shy smile and hesitant eyes as he waited for your response. His cheeks and nose were slightly pink from the wind that refused to stop whipping at any exposed skin it found. He was sporting a nervous half smile as you mulled the option over in your head, trying to gather if there was any plausible reason to not let the cute boy with a crooked smile buy you another coffee.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” You agree, a smile of your own toying on your lips as you keep your gaze on him, “But only if you tell me your name first.”
“Luke,” He lightly chuckled, taking his hand out of his pocket, extending it for you to shake, “Yours?”
You gingerly took his hand in your own as you told him your name, ignoring the way his touch made your cheeks heat up and butterflies fill your stomach. You retracted your hand quickly, moving it to grasp the cup with both hands as you gestured for Luke to lead the way. You catch the way his eyes briefly dart to your cup before he began to walk the direction you had been coming from.
The two of you fell into a bit of an awkward conversation, him asking you if you were from the area and him telling you that he wasn’t either. He told you that he played professional hockey for the Devils and it clicked in your brain that that was why he looked familiar. You had seen him on TV, but you weren’t involved in the sport enough to put a name to his face. You teased him a little and playfully asked if he would get you tickets to a game, but the speed at which he said yes shocked even himself.
When Luke was handing you your new drink, that was when he told you that he was already running a bit late to some sort of meeting with his team and as much as he’d like to stay, he had to leave. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed at the news, but you ended up exchanging phone numbers before he was rushing away, still not entirely looking where he was going. You watched him leave with a smile on your face and a sort of hope filling your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time.
The two of you had began texting each other so often that people started to ask questions. Though it had only taken three days of you quietly giggling to yourself for your roommate to ask who the guy was. Whereas for Luke, it had only taken Jack until after practice the day he had met you. Jack had never seen his younger brother rush to check his phone while still in full gear before so quickly, and that was how he knew.
You didn’t see Luke for nearly two weeks after you had initially met courtesy of the stars, also known as his games and your work schedule, never aligning in the right way. When Luke had texted you after one of his games asking if you were free the following evening and you finally got to answer with a yes, you grew excited, and also extremely nervous.
He had given you the option to go out and do something, or to come over to his place and the two of you could order food and watch movies; just hangout, he had said. You ultimately decided on the second option since the weather had grown colder and you weren’t necessarily in the mood to join the crowds of people in the city. He subtly mentioned that his brother would be gone so it would just be the two of you, and the thought made your cheeks warm despite knowing he had no underlying intentions.
When you had texted Luke to tell him you had finally found a parking spot and he told you where to go from there, you had to take a small breather in your car to get yourself to stop shaking before finally going into the expensive looking building. You were so focused on taking in all of the little details inside the lobby that you weren’t paying attention to where you were going and ran straight into someone’s chest.
You let out a surprised squeal as you squeeze your eyes closed at the impact, fully prepared to go stumbling backwards, but you never do. You can feel their hands on your hips, the pads of their fingers slightly digging into the skin separated by the material of your shirt. The soft laugh that filtered through your eyes made your eyes snap open to see a familiar face sporting an amused smile.
“At least there’s no coffee this time,” Luke teases, keeping his hands on you a tad longer than necessary before he pulls them back to his own body.
“Shut up,” You mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice the tinge to your cheeks, “I was looking at the stupid fancy decorations. I didn’t know you were going to be down here.”
“I noticed,” He chuckled, “You thought I wouldn’t meet you down here?”
“Well, no. You gave me the apartment number so I expected to meet you there,” You shrugged, forcing your gaze away from him and to your feet.
“You would’ve thought it was weird if I didn’t give you the apartment number,” He raises his eyebrows even though you aren’t looking at him, “Besides, sometimes people have trouble finding the door. It’s a little confusing.”
When you had reached the floor his apartment was on and saw that it was only one big hallway, you couldn’t help but give him a confused look. It wasn’t confusing at all, especially given the fact that his door was only the second one on the left. You could tell he was purposely avoiding looking in your direction as he pushed through the door, holding it open for you to slip inside, and you chose to let it be.
The rest of the night was spent with the two of you talking about anything that possibly came to mind once you got through the brief bout of awkward tension, and you quickly found that Luke could talk forever. He talked about his teammates and family in a way that made you smile because it was clear he truly loved and looked up to them. You told him about your family back home and why you moved and the way he was hanging on to every word made you flustered because no one had ever cared enough to listen to you that way.
By the time the night was winding down, you were close enough to him on the couch that your thighs would brush together and his arm was slung around the cushions behind you, but not touching you. There was a movie playing on the tv in front of you, but you would be lying if you said you were paying attention to it. All you could think about was how things with Luke flowed so naturally and how you hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in so long that you forgot the feeling even existed.
The two of you began hanging out regularly after that, never doing anything more than something you would do with a friend, but you could feel your feelings for him grow with each passing day. It started off as small notions and things you could brush off, but then you found yourself thinking of him no matter what you were doing. You were always seeing something that reminded you of him or something that made you think ‘oh, Luke would love that. I can’t wait to show him’. However, you were far too scared to let yourself believe that he would ever feel the same, so you swallowed those urges and went on as if nothing had changed.
When Luke had asked if you would be interested in going to one of his games, you thought nothing of it. You had told him that you would gladly go, but you would only need one ticket since your roommate worked most evenings and you didn’t necessarily have anyone else to go with. He told you not to worry about that and he would figure something out for you before he asked for your email to send the ticket. What he meant by that, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t ask questions.
You asked your roommate to help you with your outfit before she left for work that day, wanting to make sure what you wore wasn’t too much but also wasn’t sloppy. Once she had settled on something that adhered to your standards, she managed to leave enough time for her to help with your hair as well. She could tell that you were nervous based on the way your hands were constantly fiddling with each other and by the way your already clumsy habits seemed to increase by the second.
You weren’t entirely sure why you were so nervous. It wasn’t like this was the first time you were hanging out with Luke, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last. For some reason, him inviting you to one of his games felt different, but then it made you queasy because you began to think about how many girls he had invited before. By the time you were on your way to the arena, you had managed to calm yourself down enough that your heart rate was almost back to normal and your self sabotaging thoughts had been long forgotten.
Luke had taken the liberty of reserving parking for you, which you tried to deny but he said he had already done it so there was no room to argue. The parking garage was full of people in various jerseys for both teams as they made their way into the arena with you following suit because you had virtually no idea where you were going. You were so focused on looking at section numbers that you kept bumping into people, quiet apologies tumbling from your lips as you rushed away from their pointed looks.
Eventually, you found the correct section and showed your ticket to the usher at the top of the stairs before following his direction as you walked down. You stopped at the row your seat was in, your eyes falling on a group of women as they talked and laughed with one another, and you suddenly felt a wave of insecurity wash over you. They clearly knew each other, and you were there by yourself, and on top of that, they were absolutely gorgeous.
You took a deep breath before you shuffled down the row and to your seat, trying to ignore the way their voices grew quiet whenever you sat down. You could feel their eyes on you as you kept yours on the rink, watching as they set up the net and as others filed down towards their seats before the game started. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder that you turned to look at the one sitting right next to you.
“Hi,” One of them greeted, a bright smile on her face, “I’m Nicole!
You let out a shaky breath as you took her hand, giving her your name before returning her smile. The way her eyes lit up and she briefly glanced at the girls around her with a subtle smirk threw you off, but she was quick to ease your confusion as she moved her focus back to you.
“So you’re the girl Luke won’t stop talking about,” She playfully teases, “He made sure Jesper told me you would be coming and to look out for you so you weren’t alone.”
You can’t stop your face from heating up by being identified as ‘the girl Luke won’t shut about’, and judging by the way the other girls looked at you, it seemed to be a universal experience. They went around and introduced themselves, and their children, to you before they began to ask you questions. They started off with the easy questions such as your career, if you were in school, if you were from the area, if you were a big fan of hockey, but they quickly transferred the topic over to your relationship with Luke.
“We’re just friends,” You meekly said, eyes darting away from them as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.
“But you like him,” Cat asks as she raises her eyebrows, though her tone hints that she knows the answer to that.
You briefly hesitated, not sure what your response should be, but you were very graciously saved by the music blaring through the speakers followed by the announcer's voice. You hastily turned towards the ice, thanking whatever higher being saved you from the embarrassment of admitting your feelings out loud.
As the game started, you caught yourself really only focusing on Luke rather than the puck itself. If he wasn’t on the ice, you were leaning towards the girls beside you to ask questions about the game you didn’t entirely understand. When he was on the ice, you flinched every time he got hit a little too hard, or when he would trip over seemingly nothing and fall on the ice. Although, you did know to join in on the collective booing whenever he was sent to the penalty box for a bogus call.
The game ended up going into overtime with Luke, his brother, and team captain on the ice as they stood opposite the Flyers players. Your hands were clasped together as you leaned forward, waiting with baited breath as the puck dropped on the ice. You watch as they skate towards their net, hastily trying to get the puck from the other team. You’re not sure who managed to get possession, but the next thing you know Luke is taking a shot that ends up in the net to win the game.
You jump out of your seat as you scream, your eyes not leaving Luke as he learns forward into a celebratory bow that you’re positive he did when he was at Michigan. A fact you knew after you asked him “if he was even good at hockey” and he proceeded to show you his highlight reels for the next hour. His team rushes towards him with giant smiles on their faces as they crowd around him, the arena filling with cheers so loud that it made your ears ring.
By the time things had calmed down, Nicole was the first to tell you that you were supposed to go with them down to the locker room. You walked through the arena with them, only briefly stopping to talk with security because you didn’t have the correct pass. The area outside the locker room was buzzing with life as various friends and family members of the team waited for the guys, their voices meshing with the loud cheers from inside.
The guys slowly began to trickle out of the locker room clad in their fancy and expensive suits, dopey grins on their faces. You stayed tucked between Cat and Nicole as they talked, but you were only halfway listening as you kept an eye out for Luke. Some of the guys you only vaguely remembered from pictures or videos Luke had shown you, but most you knew with confidence because of how often their names popped up in conversation.
When you finally saw a familiar head of curls walking through the doors, it was a bit embarrassing how quickly a smile grew on your face. He wasn’t even looking in your direction, instead animatedly talking to his brother who had seen you, a slight smirk on his face. The girls had stepped away from you, knowing looks on their faces when Luke finally looked in front of him to see you standing there waiting for him.
If they thought Luke was excited before, it was absolutely nothing compared to the look on his face when his eyes landed on you. He quickened his pace, leaving his conversation, and his brother, behind as he only focused on getting to you. You were painfully aware of the multitude of gazes on you, the attention beginning to slightly overwhelm you, but all of the worry disappeared the moment Luke wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him.
“Congratulations on your goal,” You mumble with your head pressed against his chest, your arms draped around the middle of his frame.
“Thank you for coming,” He quietly says, his hold on you subtly tightening as he lets out a deep breath.
You can barely hear the quiet whispers of those around you over the blood pounding in your ears, but you didn’t mind them anyways. Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the way his arms felt around you and the way his entire body seemed to relax under your touch. While physical touch with Luke wasn’t uncommon, it still gave you a small sense of hope that maybe everyone was right and maybe he did like you back after all.
“Jack, you might need somewhere to stay tonight,” You heard one of the other guys tease from behind him, making your face heat up as you stepped away from Luke. Though he doesn’t entirely break away from, keeping his arm slung across your shoulders as he turns to look at his teammates.
“Oh, I planned for it don’t worry,” He laughs as he shakes his head, “You picked a good first game to come to. Luke played his ass off.”
“I always do,” Luke quickly defended himself, his voice slightly raising and his posture straightening the smallest amount.
“Yeah, but you really did tonight,” Dawson pressed with a mischievous smile on his face.
“You guys are annoying,” Luke rolls his eyes, “I’m starving, so we are going to leave. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Your gaze snaps up to Luke as he briefly looks down at you with his usual half smile, but the sound of Jack calling out to him briefly moves his attention back to his brother. You let your eyes fall back to the ground in front of you, your mind running a mile a minute as you try to ignore the way he’s slightly grazing the skin above your collarbone with his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, the skin involuntarily raising in wake of his touch as you try to keep yourself outwardly collected.
“Hey,” Luke’s voice breaks through the thin barrier keeping you composed, “You ready? I figured I’ll drive so you can put the chipotle order in and we can pick it up on our way back to my apartment. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” You breathe out, giving him a small smile.
The two of you bid goodbye to the others, but not before they could pass on teasing comments or not so subtle winks as you passed by them. Luke had dropped his arm from your shoulders, a small absent feeling settling over you when he did. He asked you if you ended up having a good time and if the girls were nice to you, which you, of course, told him that you did and the girls were extremely welcoming and kind.
When Luke had climbed into the driver’s seat, he fished his wallet out of his pocket and handed you his credit card with the subtle threat that if he didn’t see a charge on his card for the food that he would buy you the expensive hoodie you had looked at a few days ago. You rolled your eyes as you took his card, not knowing that he had already bought the hoodie anyway and was waiting to give it to you.
By the time the two of you had picked up your food and were back at his apartment, your nerves from earlier had almost entirely disappeared and things felt normal again. Before the two of you started eating, he went into his room to change, and he returned with a random pair of sweatpants you had forgotten you bought last week and a shirt you’re positive was his. He waited for you to come back before he started eating like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel like the air surrounding you felt slightly off.
You couldn’t tell if you were overthinking things or if something really was wrong because you still felt that way when the two of you moved to the couch. Luke still sat in his usual spot directly next to you, but he was barely focusing on the movie. His eyes kept darting around the room and he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, but you kept your eyes on the TV until he spoke up.
“Can I tell you something,” Luke nearly shouted, slightly startling you out of your spot on the couch, “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just– I need to tell you something.”
Your eyes were wide and full of confusion, and slight panic, as you spoke, “Yeah, of course. You can tell me anything.”
You watched as he took a deep breath, slightly turning his body so he was facing you completely, and you couldn’t help but let an almost painful sense of worry envelope you. You were running over every possible scenario you could conjure in your mind, but they were all so negative that you had convinced yourself what he was going to say was too.
“This might screw everything up and if you never want to talk to me again, that’s fine, but I can’t ignore it anymore,” His voice was serious, yet thick with an emotion you refused to place, “After I scored tonight and all the guys were around me, all I could think about was you. Not even just you being there to see it, but celebrating with you. Seeing your smile. Hugging you. Kissing you.”
He said the last part so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, but you did. Those two words rang in your ears as you looked at him, your mouth slightly dropped open as the ability to form a semi coherent thought in your mind suddenly fleeing. You wanted to respond, to tell him that it was all you could think about too, but your mouth and brain were far from cooperative.
Your silence was slowly suffocating Luke, and he quickly wishes he never said anything at all. To him, he knew it was a long shot that you felt the same way he did. Early in your friendship, you had let it slip that you weren't looking for a relationship and you wanted to focus on yourself. He knew that, but he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself anymore.
“I’m sorry,” He backtracks, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have said anyth–”
You cut him off by surging forward and slamming your lips on his own, not trusting yourself to accurately say everything you felt. Luke’s reaction was almost instantaneous, his hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you onto his lip as he kisses you back. The metaphorical wall that had been keeping the two of you as friends crumbled beneath you as you pour everything you felt for him into one kiss.
His hands had moved to the small of your back, pulling you so close that there wasn’t even a millimeter of space separating you from him. Your hands were looped around his neck as your mouth moved against his own, and you couldn’t stop yourself from carefully grasping at his curls. Luke groaned against you, and he knew he had to stop before he took things too far on his living room couch.
He pulls away from you, his heavy breathing falling in sync with your own as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his chest rise and fall against you as you attempt to gather your thoughts and tell yourself that this was real. That it actually happened and it wasn’t something you had dreamed up again, but you were suddenly shaken from your thoughts when Luke harshly snapped his head up to look at you.
“Wait, does this mean you like me back,” He asks, feigning a sense of seriousness, but you can see the smile threatening to shine through.
“You’re an idiot,” You playfully roll your eyes at him.
“Maybe, but I’m your idiot, ” He counters before his eyes slightly widen as he hesitantly continues, “Right?”
“Yeah,” You chuckle, a small smile decorating your face, “You are.”
The two of you spend the rest of the night wrapped up in the other, the movie halfway forgotten as you found yourself with your lips on his more often than not. You were selfishly thankful that Jack had been telling the truth when he said he found somewhere else to stay. The uninterrupted time you spent in Luke’s arms allowed you to truly soak it in. To relish in the fact that you had finally found someone who made you believe that love did exist, and you owed it all to one spilled coffee.
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fairuzfan · 15 hours
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"You're not gonna firebomb a walmart" bro what does this even mean. I'm not going to do that, you're right. But I'm also not going to vote for a man that called me and my loved ones terrorists and funded 7+ months of genocide??? It's not even an argument that makes sense for the situation. Being asked to consider your culpability in voting for a man like that and then you respond with "what else am I supposed to do?" Idk man! But you can't exactly claim the moral highground when you make fun of people for not.... firebombing a walmart????
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flickering-chandelier · 19 hours
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You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.
Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷
Word Count: 3.8k
The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain. 
He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.
Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect. 
But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.
He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you. 
Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren. 
---
Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment. 
So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon. 
He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.
His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside. 
Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.
Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps. 
Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”
He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.
“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.
That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.
Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?” 
Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. 
You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.
---
The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing. 
He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer. 
You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river. 
The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.
Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.
Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?
Had he ever felt like this?
After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then. 
“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.
You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about. 
“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.
Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight. 
“Are you a painter?” he asked.
“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”
Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.
On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought. 
You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”
You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.” 
“Can I walk you home?”
Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air. 
It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”
You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”
Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”
---
Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet. 
Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet. 
He waited. And waited.
Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?
He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.” 
Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly. 
Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”
His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you. 
You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”
Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated. 
“Dancing,” you grinned.
“I can’t dance.” 
“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.” 
“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.
“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”
Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”
You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.
By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.
But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music. 
He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.
You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”
He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded. 
You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders. 
“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing. 
He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.
“There you go,” you grinned. 
Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again. 
He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his. 
Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there. 
Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his. 
He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air. 
Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red. 
“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight. 
“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face. 
The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his. 
For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.
At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.
---
Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow. 
Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.
But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.
He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.
So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.
There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway. 
The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”
Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”
He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”
Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”
The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”
He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.
You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.
“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”
There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.” 
You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”
Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”
“Jax.”
“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”
You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”
He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”
That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies. 
Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining. 
---
Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages. 
You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations. 
“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.
Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints. 
You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting. 
Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him. 
By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel. 
You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”
“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.
Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting. 
“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.
It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.
“Do you like it?” you said quietly. 
“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”
He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you. 
You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”
Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public. 
---
By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.
Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand. 
The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break. 
The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars. 
Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.
“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.
You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly. 
“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.
“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.
“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you. 
Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars. 
“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.
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The Alchemy
AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.
Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift
CW: Smut
Word Count: 6,871
Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.
It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.
Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.
Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.
Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows. 
Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."
I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye. 
"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script." 
Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."
As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.
"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."
Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."
I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."
She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."
Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.
"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.
As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.
Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me. 
I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength. 
I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore. 
Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.
Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head. 
For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer. 
That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.
As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.
"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."
I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.
But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."
Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.
The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.
Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.
"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."
I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response. 
"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt. 
Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement. 
"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"
His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state. 
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased. 
I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt. 
Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.
"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality. 
"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class. 
My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.
I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.
I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:
"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H
I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.
I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.
I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.
After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.
I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.
Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.
I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.
His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.
I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.
The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.
I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.
Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.
As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.
By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.
Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.
I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous. 
"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy. 
Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked. 
I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me. 
"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously. 
Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.
I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly. 
Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.
Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me. 
I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field. 
As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.
At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return. 
In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.
As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.
"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.
"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.
"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.
Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game. 
I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights. 
"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly. 
I tilted my head. "Why's that?"
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."
Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions. 
"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly. 
Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...
But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise. 
Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out." 
He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.
As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.
I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.
A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.
As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.
Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."
I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."
Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."
He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.
"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."
I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."
Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."
We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.
I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.
Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.
The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.
Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. 
His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore. 
"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.
Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.
"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.
My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.
Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.
Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.
Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”
As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.
Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.
"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."
He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.
I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.
"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.
Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.
"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .
"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me. 
My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.
"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts. 
I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.
My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."
"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.
My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.
"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."
I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.
My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.
And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.
He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.
But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened. 
As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."
I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate. 
"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."
He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.
"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.
As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.
We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.
"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.
I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.
"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.
I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.
"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.
I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."
He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.
My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.
"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.
A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.
Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.
Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.
As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.
The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.
Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.
His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.
The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.
I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.
Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.
One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.
I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.
Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.
He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.
Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.
"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.
"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."
Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.
“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.
“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”
The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.
I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.
He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.
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yourplayersaidwhat · 14 hours
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DM: The ghost is asking to temporarily possess one of you in order to get his revenge on the Beholder.
Warlock [sighs]: Alright, I'll do it.
DM: You don't have to, you know...
Warlock (ooc): Look if one of us is gonna do it, it makes sense if its me. You all have like curse removal and exorcism stuff if the ghost overstays his welcome.
Warlock: Alright [Ghost] we'll help you. Though more recently I've come to have a more immediate and intimate relationship with another God, I am also a follower of Tyr as well and I am sympatheticto your plight. You're welcome to temporarily possess me to destroy the Beholder and free yourself of your curse. But you should know however I am sworn and beholden to another so unless you want to bring down the wrath of [Cthulhu] you'd better keep you're end of the bargain.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 days
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Twelve: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, domesticity kink, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, semi-public, bondage, blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking, squirting, cumming untouched, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, murder/blood/gore/drugs(referenced), knife, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is so full of himself that he’s somehow tricked himself into a bit of emotional maturity, Anakin has blooming bromance, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Date
August 27th continued.
Anakin climbed through his living room window and shut it behind him, happily humming to himself as he shut and locked it behind him. He spread out two trash bags on the floor after rolling up the rug to get it out of his way.
Armed with a pair of scissors and a few gallon ziploc bags he went to work on the clothes he’d been wearing. Thankfully, he had enough sense to buy jeans and a hoodie from the Goodwill. He can’t fuck you in the clothes he killed a man in, that’s just gross. So he chopped up the fabric in little squares while watching an episode of Narcos for the irony of it.
He planned to drive around the city tomorrow and dump the remnants of his clothes down every sewer grate he could. He already said goodbye to his third favorite butterfly knife, having shoved it into a culvert on his way home. As well as his throwaway sneakers which he chucked into the murky water of the deep river that flowed beneath the bridge he trekked across to get home- the long way.
Anakin was a good citizen, he knew he couldn’t flush the drugs. He couldn’t dispose of them in the trash, he definitely couldn’t keep them, so he did what every responsible person would do: dumped them in the medical wastes slot at the CVS.
The cash on the other hand… over $2,000. That- that he could definitely keep.
With his mind cleared, soiled clothes squared away, and plan in place; he hit the shower and reveled in the faint metallic scent of blood that trickled down the drain. Mentally adding ‘new loofah’ to his to-do list, he scrubbed away at his skin with dawn dishsoap until he felt like his skin was screaming for him to stop. Then he used his favorite smell-good cedar soap, enjoying the steam of the scalding water pelting his back as he rinsed himself clean.
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Diary Entry: August 28th
I feel GOOD. I feel better, I feel fresh.
My worries went down the drain along with every scrap of evidence I created. Have you ever felt such a clear and palpable mental reset? I haven’t.
I haven’t had a single negative thought since my visit with Joel. It’s all been rainbows and shittin’ unicorns, I know what it’s like to live completely carefree now. I could go the rest of my life and suffer through whatever disaster life throws our way and do it with a fucking smile.
Gods I just love you. I love you so much.
You’re perfect. I don’t know how the hell you do it princess but you’ve found every possible way to improve my life and you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time! It’s like you know exactly what I need without ever speaking it aloud. You just let the pieces fall into place.
It was your idea to DoorDash the pizza, your choice to wear that slutty pajama set I love so much, your sunshiny predisposition that drew his attention and the bangin’ body that held it. Without that, all of it, I’d still be wallowing in the throes of despair at my untimely death via withering away.
But here I am, having a damn good day!
The only thing that would make it better is me fucking you like a jackrabbit on his third 5hr Energy. However, I love you and as much as I’d like to fuck you within an inch of your life, I will not. I have a hand that works perfectly fine and a plethora of porn starring you that I can drool over until I’ve sated myself enough to act like a semi-normal human.
How will I broach the subject of my unrequited love today? I don’t know. Am I worried about it? Hell no. I have faith in my goddess to deliver what I’m worthy of.
How will I look you in the eye after my late night escapade? With a fucking smile.
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Date
August 28th
You traded texts back and forth with Anakin all morning. Something had crawled under his skin and bit him with venomous lust, he’d sent you pretty pictures of his weeping cock, cum dribbling out and down the back of his hand. He’d texted, described in delicate detail what he’d like to do to you with the most vile and disgusting words to caress that sick little minx that lived inside your stomach.
He had you clenching around nothing, gushing slick behind the counter at the diner. Blushing deep, dusty rose petal red across your cheeks and creeping up under your shirt collar. You felt hot, your hands sweaty and mind flustered beyond belief. You hadn’t felt this sexually frustrated since Ghost had stopped torturing you in your sleep.
You were nervous and bashful around customers as if they could see straight through your polite voice and put together appearance. Underneath the confidence that you reserved for waiting tables was a deprived and thoroughly soaked cunt that controlled your every waking thought.
“Princess?” Anakin’s deep gravelly bedroom voice floated over the Formica countertop and wrapped you up in a warm embrace.
You looked up and saw the face of a desperate man. His pretty blue eyes had been completely swallowed up by his lust… love blown pupils. His normally calming cloud of energy was replaced by a jittery, buzzing storm of bottled up euphoria. He couldn’t wait to pop the cork and share it with you.
“Vigo?” Anakin’s voice cracked, his smile only growing bigger when your coworker popped his head around the kitchen door frame. “I’m stealing her.”
“Hey, you gotta clock out!” He shouted after you as Anakin gripped your wrist and whisked you out to his car. Vigo was already on his way to the time cards, punching it in for you to save himself the worry of you forgetting.
“Anakin what’s gotten into you?” You panted, trying to catch your breath while Anakin licked into your mouth and sucked the tip of your tongue. Kissing you as messily as he could short of drowning you via spit swap.
“Woke up missing you.” He groaned, nuzzling your breasts. His nose nudging the valley while he rubbed his cheeks against the swell, pushing them together with his splayed hands.
“Can’t help it.” He breathed out, biting your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your shirt.
“Ani.” You moaned, tugging his head away gently. “You already gave me a massive hickey.” He chuckled as you reminded him of the purplish bruise you’d attempted to cover with makeup.
“True.” He nodded, nipping you again anyway. “You could stand to have a few more though.”
“Shit, not now.” You shook your head and bucked up your hips, wiggling out of your jeans.
“Damn, that’s what I like to see sweetheart.” Anakin growled, smacking your ass lightly as he laid down in the back seat. “C’mere baby let me see my pussy.”
You giggled, complying and gingerly hovering over his mouth only to earn a frustrated groan from him.
“Goddamnit. I-I’ve never seen you this wet.” His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked up at you, his enlarged pupils snapping a mental picture of how beautiful you were from your position above him where you belonged.
Both hands suddenly gripped your hips and pulled you down on top of his face. He held on tightly, keeping you in place despite your concerns of suffocating him.
“Don’t care.” He moaned, thrusting his tongue up and swirling it around inside your entrance, the bridge of his nose rubbing your clit as he guided your hips to ride his face. “I’d be dying the happiest man on earth.”
“Oh my god.” You sucked in a sharp inhale, your palm smacking the headrest while your fingers hurt from the force of your grip on it.
“Mhmmmm.” You could feel his smug grin beneath you, even in this position he was able to establish dominance with just that crooked smirk and hard look to his eyes.
“Anakin…” moaning, you reached down to play with his hair, his mouth pulling your clit between his teeth to suck harshly, flicking his tongue at a fast pace in hopes to bring you to orgasm quickly. “Anakin please… s-slow.”
“Uh uh.” He shook his head with a chuckle, digging his fingertips into the fat of your ass.
“My pussy… my rules.” He mumbled, the words muffled and nearly incoherent.
He slurped and sucked, dragging his tongue in long stripes up your center, dipping the tip into your hole each time it passed over. He’d never eaten you so desperately, never had he sent you spiraling into orgasm this quickly. Heat traveled from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears, your hole quivering around his tongue darting in to lick up your cum.
“Ani- Anakin enough.” You whined, trying to get up but he just brought you back down and laved at you with just as much fervor.
“Please no… hurts.” You hiccuped, sensitive beyond belief and not ready for more in the slightest.
“Shhhh.” Anakin laughed, nibbling on your clit carefully, he slipped one hand beneath you, palm side up.
He tapped your hip and let you raise up for a moment to catch your breath, lasting less than a few seconds before he was one-armed manhandling you back over his face.
“Fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch baby.” He whispered, stroking your folds gently before prodding at your entrance.
“Oh sweet lord-“ he moaned loudly, watching your greedy pussy sink down on his fingers from below, your hole fluttering around the two digits.
“You’re so wet.” He whimpered, gazing up at you like you’d hung the moon just for him.
“All this for me?” He asked softly, as if he weren’t really sure what your answer would be.
“All for you Ani.” You nodded, brushing your knuckles across his cheek while he started pumping his finger inside slowly, stretching you out to take a third.
“Jesus, I don’t know what I wanna do.” He groaned, “I wish I could touch you all over all at once.”
He removed his fingers and brought them up for you to see the fruits of his labor, the creamy slick coated his fingers, stringing them together when he pulled them apart. He barely grazed your bottom lip with it before sucking it hungrily from his fingers.
“Goddamnit.” He moaned, pulling you back down with such force that you lost your balance and accidentally unlocked the car door, you giggled and quickly corrected your mistake, Anakin chiding you from below.
“Clumsy little brat.” He grinned, kneading your ass cheeks roughly.
His tone might’ve been playful but the look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory. He lapped at your glistening folds with the enthusiasm of a wildcat on a fresh kill, by the end of it he’d be sucking the bones dry.
Anakin hummed at the taste of you, groaning, babbling nonsense more to your cunt than to you:
“Tastes so good.”
“So pink and pretty for me.”
“Poor pussy just missed me so much huh? Is that why she’s crying?”
He switched up suddenly and had you frozen in place, your jaw dropped open as you let out a choked sob, tilting your head back to look at the car’s ceiling. He’d bit down on your raw and sore clit, peeling back the hood to tortuously bully it with kitten licks all while sucking as hard as he possibly could. It was too much, so much, all at once.
You were already so sensitive, you had already begged him to stop, now you had no words left, just pitiful whimpers as you bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your legs quivered uncontrollably as goosebumps pricked your flesh, every hair standing on end as Anakin literally sucked you dry as you’d jokingly predicted.
He drew out a long and reedy noise from the depths of your chest, clawing it’s way through the fire in your lungs and past the torn skin on your lip. Creamy cum gushed from your core, coating his chin and neck.
The main course, what he was really after, was the hot juices that dribbled down the back of his throat as he sucked the nectar straight from the source. You would’ve worried you might drown him if you couldn’t visibly see his heavy breathing, feel and hear each desperate swallow and whimper. You could feel his stomach tensing along with his arms, his hands followed and closed into fists.
Turning his head to the side he bit down on your inner thigh, causing you to jolt and yelp, almost missing the way one of his hands flew to his crotch and squeezed his thick cock through his jeans, running his thumb over the fat, swollen tip as a small and sticky dark patch bloomed on his upper thigh.
“N-no no.” He whined, bringing you back down to his face, he carefully avoided your abused clit in favor of cleaning up your thighs and messy cunt, digging out every last drop of slick with his tongue.
“You… you are so fucking hot.” He panted, whimpering in pain when he sat up repositioned his cock.
“Did you-“
“Cum? Yeah.” He nodded sheepishly, stroking himself in his jeans for a moment before removing his hand and showing you the mess he’d made in his jeans.
“No way.” You whispered, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.
“Yes.” He growled, shoving his hand between your thighs to wipe his cum off onto your spent pussy. “I don’t think you understand what you do to me sweetheart.”
“I’d pay good money to find a way to live inside your skin with you. Just to be close as I could get.” He said quietly, helping you back into your panties and jeans, wiping the excess cum onto the inside of his tshirt.
“I’d sell my soul just to breathe the same air as you if that’s what it took.” He said, pulling you into his lap and crushing you in a hug.
“You are like a Ghost that haunts every corner of my mind.” He whispered, licking the makeup off of your poorly hidden hickey.
Anakin didn’t miss the way you breathed in a sharp breath at his words it took a lot of willpower not to smile against your neck when he heard you audibly swallow with nervousness.
“I wake up and I think of you. I go to sleep and I dream of you.” His rough palms caressing the soft skin of your stomach. “Everything I see, everything I do, it all reminds me of you.”
“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He said softly. “You’d never doubt yourself again.” His lips grazing your earlobe as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger, breaking the heavy tension by cracking a smile and tickling the tip of your nose with your hair.
He gently cupped your cheeks and brushed the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks and under your eyes. Staring at you with those unwavering black saucers in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d done drugs. It’s unnatural for a human’s eyes to stay dilated for this long. But you knew Anakin, he was just high on you.
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Diary Entry: August 28th continued
I have so much energy and I don’t know what to do with it all. I might try bench pressing a school bus, I could probably make it move alittle. If I didn’t give myself a hernia first.
What I really need is more of you. I thought a little sweet treat might tithe me over but I was WRONG. I’m feeling a new kind of insatiable.
It’s time for Ghost to get back to his old tricks with a new accessory: my rarely worn tongue stud.
Man I love it though, it clacks against my teeth so good. I can hear it in my brain for like, minutes after I’ve done it. Such a satisfying sound. Its crisp.
Which is unfortunately the reason why I can’t wear it often anymore.
I click clacked it around my bottom row of teeth too much and the dentist made me promise not to do it anymore. Turns out abstinence is actually the best method when it comes to prevention. If it’s not in my mouth I can’t fuck up my teeth, but I can play with my lip piercings. Yeehaw I love a loophole.
Anywho. I feasted on my favorite meal today and I desperately need more before I actually go insane. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. I need to fuck you til I lose consciousness.
I want you to be awake though because as hot as it is to watch you cum in your sleep, it’s even hotter to see you reacting to the things I say. Deny it all you want baby but you’re my whore.
Ghost, Anakin, both. You’re willing to do anything for my cock.
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Date
August 28th continued.
Anakin can’t keep his hands to himself. It’s like he’s been corrupted by an incubus, he’s turned into an insatiable beast that just can’t stop. You’ve seriously considered the possibility that he may have somehow gotten his hands on some ecstasy and a suped up gas station boner pill.
Though logically you know exactly what is happening. He’s just giddy and feeling a weight lifted from his chest after confessing to you. It makes perfect sense. Carrying a secret like that is a burden, you know that very well by now.
Anakin is purely running off adrenaline fumes and endorphins. He’s burning it off the best way possible, by touching you in every direction, position, time, space and dimension that he can put you in.
He’s fucked you twice after taking you home from work today. Kitchen counter? From the back with your legs dangling helplessly, your sweaty skin sticking to the countertop. Coffee table? He pushed you down on it, swiping off the scattered items on it, including the freshly made sandwich and chips you’d brought him. He had said ’F-fuck… you’re just so sexy when you’re domestic.’
Right now on your third go around, he had finally, finally agreed to take you to the bed after you’d formed a triangle shaped bruise from the corner on the kitchen counter.
“M’sorry baby,” He whispered, licking away the dull pain on your hip from between your legs. “didn’t mean to.”
“I know Ani,” you breathed out, “it’s not your fault.”
“It is.” He nodded, pulling you toward the edge of the bed and gently helping you onto you hands and knees. “My poor girl.”
“You’re just so pretty. You’re so perfect. You’re so… you.” He sighed, standing behind and to the side of you to caress your injured hip.
His rough palm glided over the hot, sticky skin of your spine to brush your hair away. His free hand slowly tracing a delicate pattern across the plumped flesh of your ass, all five digits teasing the skin with tingling trails of warmth.
His lips caressed your tender skin up and down your side while he lovingly slipped a finger between your pussy lips. He groaned and made a fist between your shoulder blades to keep control of himself, your wetness feeding his need to be sheathed inside your warm and welcoming cunt.
“Pretty, pretty baby.” He whispered, his voice cracking while he brought his burning hot cheek down to rest against the swell of your ass, toying with his lip piercings to stifle a moan at the sloppy noises his pointer finger made on its descent into your depths.
“You’ve been so good for me.” He praised you, massaging your shoulder with one hand, kissing your ass cheek as he turned his head and rested the other side of his blushed face there, switching sides to watch your expressions change with each plunge of his finger.
“My little girl…” he growled, low and deep in his throat, “letting me take what I need.”
“Just wanted you to feel good Ani.” You sighed, gratefully accepting a second finger from him, feeling him twist his wrist back and forth with each slow thrust.
“Mmm, I did sweetheart.” He chuckled, “trust me, it’s hard to feel anything but heavenly when I’ve got my hands on you.”
“You’ve been so needy.” You whined, letting him guide your hand to your clit so you could rub yourself at your own pace along with his languid fingers.
“I know.” He clicked his tongue. “Are you okay sweetheart?”
“Course I’m okay.” You moaned, leaning back against his hand while his fingertips pressed and massaged your inner core.
“I put your poor little body through a lot today huh?” He cooed, switching his free hand over to your other shoulder to massage it the same as the other.
He smiled widely as he watched your face relax and felt your breathing slow into a steady rhythm. He felt proud. Proud of you, of himself, of his self control.
“Felt good Ani.” You whispered, your fingers tightening around the sheets in your fist while you rocked back onto his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers. “I needed it too.”
“That’s my girl.” He smiled, hearing the content sigh escape your lips. “You think you can cum for me again baby?” He asked softly, kissing the small of your back.
“N-no.” You whimpered, shying away from his gentle probing fingers.
“You sure sweetheart?” He asked, slowing his movements even further. “It’s okay baby, I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”
“M’sure.” You shook your head rapidly, “I can’t.”
“Okay baby.” He chuckled, “ready for me to stop then?” He asked.
“No… not yet.” You said quietly. “Lay with me?”
“Oh sure thing princess.” He grinned, removing his fingers just long enough for him to turn off your lamp and help you slide under the blankets, his nakedness pressed firmly against yours.
“Mm, you’re so warm,” you giggled, Anakin’s arms wrapping around you tightly while he kissed the nape of your neck, spooning you from behind.
“Cozy?” He asked with a gruff tone, slipping his fingers back into your messy pussy from behind to continue the slow and gentle caresses.
“So cozy.” You nodded. “I’m gettin’ sleepy.” You said tiredly.
“I figured so.” He nodded, his voice a soft whisper. “I’ll lay with you until it’s time for me to leave for work okay?”
“I’ll make sure everything is all locked up when I leave, I’ll kiss you bye.” He spoke low and soothingly as he gently rubbed your neck, removing his fingers from your folds when he heard your breathing slightly change.
“I’ll text you,” he whispered, sucking your slick from his fingers between words, not hiding his hard-on as it pressed against your ass. “when I get there and when I get back home. I’ll miss you so much until I see you again tomorrow.”
Soon enough you were deep in sleep and Anakin was glad he’d made you take your pills at dinner time, he’d thought ahead and considered the very real possibility that you’d end up being fucked to sleep.
He was right of course.
——————————————————————————
“Anakin what the hell man?” Trevor chortled shoving a handful of ice down the back of Anakin’s shirt in retaliation to the towel-whip he’d dealt Trevor.
“What? Can’t a guy be happy?” Anakin laughed.
“Happy? Nah you’re fucking hyper.” Trevor grinned. “What’d you do that’s got you feeling so good? Gimme some.” He teased.
“Shut up, the hardest thing I do is pot you know that.” Anakin snorted.
“Then what’s the deal?” Trevor splayed his own hand a few inches from his face.
“I’m love drunk baby.” Anakin waggled his eyebrows and shimmied his shoulders.
“Jesus I don’t even know you! Who are you and what have you done with my jackass?” Trevor grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him with a laugh, turning to pour a beer on tap for a patron.
“I ate him.” Anakin shrugged and giggled.
“I’m calling your girlfriend. I don’t know if I can be around you anymore.” April said, walking past the two of them with a serving tray.
“She needs a break from me, she’s very tired.” Anakin said with a proud grin.
“Oh my god!” April cackled and made a quick exit from behind the bar to serve drinks at a corner table.
“Fucking freak.” Trevor snickered.
“That’s what she said.” Anakin stuck out his tongue and flicked it with an impish grin.
After an hour or so the bar traffic grew stagnant and Anakin stepped out back for a cigarette, flicking his zippo out to light the flame and swinging in shut. Letting a curl of smoke leave his lips to breathe in through his nose. He leaned back against the brick wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, raising his arms above his head to rest his fists on his forehead.
He was looking up at the hazy city-light polluted night sky, searching for stars, when the back door swung open and Trevor stepped out with a bottle of beer for himself and one for Anakin.
“Trade me.” He grunted, sitting down on an old wood crate and holding out the beer bottle, two fingers extended for Anakin to sit a cigarette between.
“Yessir,” Anakin nodded, going so far as to light it for his friend.
“Anakin.” Trevor said thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.” Anakin said, tipping up the beer bottle and watching the amber liquid bubble as he took a gulp.
“Did you hate me?” Trevor asked. “When you first started here?”
“What? Pfft, no what are you talking about?” Anakin asked, pushing off the wall with his black leather boot.
“I don’t know, you’re just different.” Trevor said with a shrug. “You just seemed so… excuse my critique; cold and distant.”
“Criticism accepted.” Anakin nodded. “It’s true I guess.”
“Yeah? So what changed?” Trevor asked in curiosity, a rare moment of vulnerability shared between two male friends wasn’t to be wasted.
“Met a girl. Got my shit together.” Anakin said, flicking cigarette ash to the pavement. “I love her you know?”
“Do you?”
“Mhm.” Anakin nodded. “I told her. She hasn’t said it back yet.”
“Well damn I’m sorry man-“
“No don’t be. She’ll say it.” Anakin held up his hand to stop him. “She just ain’t ready to admit it that’s all.”
“How are you not all depressed and shit?”
“I was, but I realized… I don’t care.” Anakin said simply. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if I have to wait until I’m dead in the ground. I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready.”
“I had myself a bit of a freak out.” Anakin admitted, “but after I cooled off I’ve been… happier than I’ve ever been.”
“That why you’re all…” Trevor gestured to him with both hands.
“Yessir.” Anakin grinned.
“So you’re acting like you’ve won the fuckin’ lotto because your girl didn’t say she loved you?” Trevor raised his eyebrows.
“She doesn’t have to.” Anakin said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, placing the cigarette between his lips, inhaling slowly. Grabbing it between his forefinger and thumb he brought it back down to his side and made an O with his lips, hollowing his cheeks and flicking the dip in his cheek to let a ring of smoke out.
“I know she does.” Anakin said, tilting his head back against the brick and letting it loll to the side to look over at Trevor. “She didn’t run off, she didn’t tell me to get lost, she laid there with me… pretty little head on my chest.” Anakin said, making a motion with his hand above his heart.
“Then today.” Anakin said, clicking his tongue with a smirk. “She sat on my face in the parking lot of the Bluebird during her break n’ let me fuck her all over the house when I got her home.”
“Jesus, here I was thinkin’ you were being sweet.” Trevor snorted, flicking his bottle cap so the it bounced off the toe of Anakin’s boot.
“If that doesn’t scream love I don’t know what does.” Anakin sighed contentedly, stubbing out his cigarette and dropping it into the designated rusty coffee can for cigarette butt.
——————————————————————————
“Hey, look Trev isn’t that the guy uh… the one who did that thing junior year of highschool?” April shouted over the din of the bar from the other end of the counter, pointing up to the smaller tv playing the news rather than the basketball game.
“Uh… hold on I can’t- I don’t have my glasses.” he said walking over and squinting, Anakin walking up behind him to look over his shoulder.
“Mm yeah that’s the guy they called- uh,” he thought for a second before snapping his right hand fingers and bringing his palm down on top of his fist, pointing up at the screen. “Duck! Didn’t they?”
“Yeah! Yeah, him.” April nodded, sucking on a lemon slice she’d dipped in sugar.
She turned back around and shook up the tumbler she was mixing a drink in, pouring it over two glasses and sliding it across the table to their owners.
“Why’d they call him that?” Anakin asked, wiping down the bar, before washing up some shot glasses.
“He’d duck his head up under the bleachers to look up girls skirts at the pep rallies.” Trevor said with a huff, “real shit guy.”
“Tried to sell my brother herbs instead of herb.” April turned around with an amused look on her face.
“Huh.” Anakin said, tonguing the inside of his cheek to hide a smirk. “Real shit guy indeed.”
“Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Trevor said with a chuckle.
“Why’s that?” Anakin asked, tossing his towel over his shoulder, rubbing his palms together while he sucked on the ball of one of his snake bites.
“Like I said, real shit guy.” Trevor scoffed. “Doubt they’re even looking too hard for the guys who did it.”
“Guys?” Anakin asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Yeah-“ he looked over his shoulder, “what’d it say April? Four of ‘em?”
“Yep.” She said, tossing her lemon rind in the trash.
“Damn.” Anakin shook his head.
“Yeah, the guy who ‘found’ him graduated with us too.” Trevor said, glancing back up at the tv and seeing it had switched over to the weather. “Supposedly it was a real mess, shit everywhere. Stole a bunch of stuff, some kind of drug related thing.”
“Well shit, poor guy.” Anakin shook his head, “that’d be a real nice thing to walk in on.”
“Well hell yeah it would, looking like the Red Seas in there.” Trevor snorted.
“How do you know?” Anakin asked with a smile.
“The dick posted it on his private Snapchat story before he called the cops.” Trevor said, “I didn’t see it, but my buddy did and he said it looked barf worthy, could smell it through the screen.”
“Goddamn that’s nasty.” Anakin winced, “thanks for that mental image.”
“I had to imagine it, so you did too.” Trevor said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Share the wealth or whatever.”
“Trev, I don’t think that applies to murder.” April said, walking past the boys.
“It does now, baby.” He said, tapping her ass as she walked past.
“Hey!” She shot him a dirty look but blushed and smiled anyway. “Told you not to do that at work.”
“Can’t help it.” Trevor shrugged. “Stress reliever.”
“Oh whatever.” She snorted.
“Anyway yeah- apparently the dude, Kyle Spencer, is suspect number one. He was high as a kite when he called Duck’s dad.”
“He called his dad?” Anakin asked confusedly, “not the cops?”
“His dad is the cops.” Trevor said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth before tossing a stick to Anakin.
“Oh shit.” Anakin scoffed, “so what, he called the guys dad to figure it out?”
“Mhm.” Trevor nodded. “At least that’s what everyone thinks. Cause Duck’s dad arrested the guy himself and seemed real ticked off about getting the call. He was at his other son’s house for the grandkids birthday.”
“Well, well, well.” Anakin snorted, covering his mouth to hide a grin as he poured a whiskey. “Isn’t that some good luck?”
——————————————————————————
“I’ve missed this.” Anakin sighed, cradling Boogie in his arms like a furry orange baby while he stood at the foot of your bed and watched you sleep.
“It’s the simple things you know?” He whispered, his filtered voice tapering in and out. He smiled beneath his mask, watching you stir slightly, kicking the covers off your feet.
He turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom, setting your cat down on the kitchen counter and pouring her a third of a bowl of food. He took off his left hand glove to give her some chin scratches, then from the white patch between her eyes all the way to the end of her fluffy tail.
“You know, I used to really despise cats.” He said, leaning over on the counter and propping himself up on his gloved fist, watching her eat.
“The therapist I had as a kid said it was cause cats don’t automatically take to a person like dogs do.” He picked up her back foot and gently squish her paw pad to spread out her toe beans just to see her claws flex out.
“Cause they don’t listen. You can’t make ‘em listen, you can’t make ‘em do anything they don’t want.”
“I’m glad I met you.” He nodded. “You’re sweet, makes me… hmm, I wouldn’t say regretful. Just dissatisfied about before.”
“That’s okay though.” He sighed, “personal growth and whatnot.”
“I hope your momma won’t be too upset. I promised I’d start telling her before I visited, but you know tonight wasn’t really planned ahead and I got side tracked, and then sidetracked again, cause I’m here talking to you!” He chuckled, giving her a head pat.
“So hang out in here, okay kitty? I’ve got things to do.” He chuckled, unlacing his boots and setting them beside the front door, he made sure his socks were pulled up beneath his jeans and his gloves and sleeves were as they should be.
He crept back into your room, shutting the door behind him, thankful that you’d stayed naked after your evening escapade. You’d sprawled out, one leg bent and your arm above your head, the other hidden beneath the blanket along with your chest, middle and other leg. Anakin walked to the window and opened the curtain just the tiniest bit, allowing a sliver of moonlight to cast a pearly sheen across your exposed skin.
He stood and stared for a long while, having missed the scene before him. So many times he’d slunk in the shadows of your room, clinging to the wall to avoid disrupting that very beam of moonlight. He would scowl and chide you in his mind for leaving the curtains open, but he’d always, always, stop and observe the way you breathed under the pale periwinkle tinted light.
Once he’d had his fill of your nighttime innocence, he closed the curtain and returned you to the black of slumber, preparing to drag you with him on his path to midnight madness.
He lifted the blanket and folded it over out of his way, using the pretty patterned top sheet to cover his head after taking off his mask and placed it on the bed beside him.
Just for the extra security he tugged up his hood as well and hoped that he wouldn’t sweat to death before he could make you finish.
Slowly pushing your legs apart, he smiled at the soft breath you took in when he gently held your hip so that you wouldn’t shift out of position. Anakin pulled off his right hand glove and shoved it in his back pocket so it wouldn’t get lost beneath the sheets.
He kissed along your outer lips, pressing his nose against the crease at the apex of your thighs, inhaling the scent of you and dragging his tongue along behind as his nose traveled up that crease until he reached your hip, where the waist band of your panties should be. He took a moment to nuzzle into the softness of your lower belly, showering your satin skin with kisses before returning to your slit.
His mouth hovered over your folds as if he were mentally preparing himself to savor you slowly, compared to the fast-paced feasts he’d had on you earlier in the day.
With his tongue laid out flat he licked up the remnants of his cum and yours, introducing you to the warm ball centered toward the front of his tongue, purposely letting it catch against your clit. He breathed through his nose, leaving his tongue flat to circle and flick the metal ball over your clit, smiling in triumph when you jolted at the first movement.
He circled your entrance with the calloused pad of his thumb, slurping up your creamy slick from your folds. He flexed his tongue to swipe it side to side the bottom ball of the metal bar scraped along his bottom row of teeth, making a dull metallic sound that seemed much louder to Anakin than it was in reality so he halted his movements to listen for a change in your breathing.
After ensuring you wouldn’t ruin his fun too early he continued his gentle licks and prods of his tongue to your leaking hole. He pulled his mask closer to him, he needed to feel your heat around his fingers and he knew it wouldn’t take too long before you realized what was happening. After all, you didn’t drink your tea.
Inserting one finger slowly his curved it upward and flicked his tongue side to side at the same pace of his finger. He felt you stir beneath him, so he placed a sloppy kiss to your clit. Lazily licking across you rather than giving you calculated movements. He pushed in a second finger, groaning loudly at the squelch when your cunt hungrily sucked in the extra digit.
Your hands came down to push him away, trying to close your legs in your half-awake state.
“Ani?” You asked, trying to cover your drenched pussy with your hand when you felt an unfamiliar sensation slide over your clit, smooth and warm.
Anakin’s ego skyrocketed, but his penchant for deviant behavior told him that statement should be punished by Ghost. Although he’d have to make that decision later because you were getting whiny and impatient.
“Anakin, please.” You mumbled. “What’s that?”
Anakin halted his movements and slipped on his mask and quickly shoved his hand in his glove.
“I’ll give you one more guess little doe.” The modified voice cut through the fog of your sleep and you bolted upright.
“Ghost?” You gasped in surprise, pulling the blankets back over you. “You didn’t- why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Don’t be embarrassed baby,” he cooed, tugging the blankets away and running his leather hands up your stomach, stopping just beneath your tits. “This is an emergency visit and-“
“What?” You asked in confusion, your eyebrows furrowed. “What happened? What did you do?”
“Um… ow. Hurtful.” He said in a disappointed tone. “I didn’t do anything except develop a raging hard-on.”
“You ass!” You shouted, smacking at his arm. “You scared me!”
“Hey.” He barked. “Maybe next time let me finish talking yeah? Jumping to conclusions like that’ll strain a muscle.”
You stared at him in a state of… not shock or fear, but a bewildered sort of amusement. Once again: the audacity of this man is astounding.
“What?” He asked, sounding irritated.
“I don’t- I don’t know.” You snorted, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.
“W-wha… hey?” He stammered, confused by your laughter. “Are you laughing? What’s funny?”
“You.” Another laughed bubbled up from your chest.
“Wait- what? You… you’re...” His mouth gaping beneath his mask. “Are you for real?”
“Oh- I’m sorry no… no don’t be mad.” You said reaching out but snatching your hand back quickly after remembering what happened last time you touched him like that without permission.
“Mad?” His voice crackled, the modified voice hinting at hurt in his tone. “Why- why would you think I’m mad?”
“Doe, I’m… that makes me happy.” He said quietly. “This is the first time I’ve made you laugh.”
“What?” You scoffed, “no it’s not.”
“It is.” He said solemnly. “Trust me I keep track of things like that.”
“But-“
“No, no. Trust me.” He said, straddling your legs but not putting any weight on you. “You’ve done that dorky anxious laugh a few times. But I mean… that was a real one.”
“Are you sure?” You asked, your face falling when you realized he was probably right.
“Doe, I’m sure about everything when it comes to you.” He said low and serious, inching closer.
“I’m sorry.” You said, feeling horrible. “That- I’m sorry, that makes me feel bad.”
“Don’t.” He said sternly. “Don’t feel bad.”
“I just had the most fitting conversation earlier today.” He said slowly. “Talking about things and waiting till they’re ready. You laughed cause you were ready.” He said with a defining nod, cupping your cheeks with both hands and carefully caressing your under eyes.
“I’ve always been in favor of positive reinforcement.” Anakin said, smiling to himself. “Do you think you deserve a reward?”
“What is it?” You asked suspiciously, looking him over.
“Something new.” Anakin said simply.
“But,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “You have to promise that you’ll listen to me.”
“Okay…” you nodded cautiously.
“Good girl.” He gave you a curt nod in return, breathing deeply. “Now, I’m gonna give you some very simple instructions. If you do not listen, if you don’t follow them with precision, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” You nodded, frowning slightly.
Anakin very tenderly rested his leathered thumbs over your eyes, gingerly closing them and so, so, so carefully making sure they stayed closed.
“Listen closely.” His voice low and dangerous. “When I tell you it’s okay, I want you to take my mask off.”
“What?” You jolted in shock, this was not what you expected at all, you assumed it would be something much more… raunchy.
“Shut up.” He said sharply. “Quiet, listen to me.”
“Sorry.” You whispered, biting down on your lip and fidgeting with your fingers.
“When I tell you it’s okay, you are going to take off my mask. You’re going to be quiet. You’re not going to talk. You’re not going to hear me talk. You will not move. You will keep the mask in your hands, in your lap, and you will not touch me.” Anakin’s voice was clearly conveying a seriousness that couldn’t be ignored.
“Yes sir.” You nodded.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He dropped his hands immediately and squeaked out the most pitiful unfiltered noise a man could make.
He didn’t hide it when he palmed his cock, he didn’t seem surprised when you moaned after he grabbed your face. He did lean down, eye level to you and lace his free hand’s long fingers with yours.
“Say it again f’me doe.” He groaned, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing length.
“Yes sir.” You repeated in a smaller, less confident voice. You hadn’t expected a reaction like this, you’d meant for it to come out snarky…
“New plan.” He grunted, fisting your hair at the top of your head to pull you into sitting position.
He got down off the bed and grabbed his bag from the floor, pulling out a pretty, pink, silk handkerchief and tossing it at you. Along with a pair of padded pink fabric handcuffs, Velcro, not metal clasps.
“What are you… what’s this?” You asked in surprise, an amused smirk on your lips.
“Well, you know the tape ah- just… oh fuck off.” He huffed folding the handkerchief to make a blindfold and carefully tying it tightly around your head, guiding your arms behind your back.
You heard the loud *skrrrriiip* of the Velcro coming apart, then felt the soft liner enveloping each wrist.
“No gag this time?” You huffed, annoyed that he hadn’t finished his sentence, his explanation.
His belt buckle clanked around and he undid his zipper, guiding you to your knees in front of him. He pried your mouth open and pinched the tip of your tongue between his fingers, pulling it slightly before roughly pushing your head down, forcing his girthy length into your mouth.
“Gag on this.” He grunted, holding your head still while you choked around his fat cockhead, your eyes already beginning to water.
He thrust himself in shallow strokes but made sure to hit the back of your mouth every time as punishment, drool dripping down your bottom lip and onto his weighty balls each time they smacked the underside of your chin.
“I w-was gonna kiss you.” He gritted out, causing you to pull back in an effort to say something, but he forced you back down, fucking into your throat alittle deeper.
“Jesus, just listen damnit.” He barked out at you, tugging your hair. “I was trying to… fuck that feels good- mmph.” A puff of air left his nose and he inhaled through his mouth in a shaky gasp.
“Tryin’ to kiss you, m-make it special and soft.” He grunted. “Tried to get you something alittle nicer than some tape from the junk drawer and an old bandana.”
“Should’ve known better.” He groaned, gritting his teeth while he listened to your labored breathing.
“Bitchy little ungrateful brat.” He spat, thrusting harder after he’d said it just to drive his point home.
“Y-you would’ve still gotten your kiss if you hadn’t of smart mouthed me.” He panted. “Now you’re just gonna get a belly full of cum.”
“When are you going to learn?” He chuckled, looking down at you and red tinted face. He pulled out his phone, turning on the flash and hitting record.
“You were being such a good girl.” He moaned, low and gravely. “Callin’ me sir? Good manners. That was a good job, little doe.”
“Then you you went and screwed it up didn’t you? Hmm?” His condescending tone sent a zap of lighting to your core. “Smart mouthing me like I’d let you get away with it.” He scoffed.
“Apologize to me sweetheart.” He demanded, grabbing you by the neck just beneath your jaw and squeezing when you didn’t answer. “C’mon you know you were bad.”
You breathed out through flared nostrils and blinked away your tears, you spoke as best you could but of course it was hardly more than a few choppy sounds.
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk with a full mouth?” He laughed, smacking your cheek gently.
“Oh don’t do that baby.” He cooed, his hips slowing as you tried to wriggle free from your restraints.
“Tell you what…” He pulled up your blind fold and tossed it aside. “let’s play a game.” He grunted. “Just be still for a second okay? Then we’ll talk.” He carded his fingers through your hair and nearly keeled over on the spot when your eyelids fluttered, showing just the whites of your eyes.
He doubled over, accidentally shoving his length farther than he meant to, shooting salty ropes down your throat, a choked moan left his lips as his knees buckled slightly.
“Holy shit- oh fuck…” He panted, doing his best to pull back slowly so as not to hurt you. “Sorry baby.” He mumbled sheepishly, quickly tucking himself back in his boxers.
“You okay?” He breathed out, crouching down and getting on your level after stopping the recording.
“Mhm.” Your lungs felt heavy, coughing from your sore throat. “M’fine.”
“Stand up.” He said firmly, but not in a commanding way, more of a ‘I know what’s best for you please just do it’ way.
You nodded and stood up to face him, waiting for further details but you got none. Anakin spun you around and removed your cuffs, grunting in approval when he saw he’d managed not to mar up your pretty skin on accident with these new bindings.
Then, gentle hands on your shoulders turned you back around. He just stood there and stared at you. You hated when he did that, it was so hard to judge his mood already. But when he was quiet and still? Impossible.
“Do you know what a safe word is?” He asked.
“Yes…” you said, looking off to the side.
“Good. Yours is purple, got it?” He asked, gripping your chin.
“Okay. Safe word is purple.” You nodded, gauging his unmoving form cautiously.
“Put on some pjs.” He said plainly, flipping out his knife, one you hadn’t seen before, just to play with while he waited.
“Is that new?” You asked quietly, trying to make some kind of semi-normal conversation.
“What? This?” He asked, flipping it closed and holding it out to you.
“Yeah.” You nodded. “Is it?”
“You noticed.” He said simply, swinging his hand side to side in a gesture for you to take it.
“I’m smarter than I look.” You snorted, taking it from him and carefully opening it.
“We’ll see.” He said in a flat tone, his mood changed slightly now.
“Roses?” You asked, closing the handles back to look at the carved design in black metal with red backing.
“I bought that one just for you. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind it as much if it were pretty.” He said softly, reaching his hand up behind his head to scratch his neck as though he were anxious.
“I- well.” You sighed, stunned by him for the thousandth time. “That’s actually very sweet Ghost.”
You awkwardly handed it back to him, unsure how to navigate this calmer water with him. You gave him a crooked smile and finished getting dressed.
“No.” He shook his head. “Not that. I like that one.” He said, crossing his arms.
“Fine.” You slipped back out of the matching set you had chosen, and tossed it in the drawer without folding it.
“Move.” He grunted, pulling out your bottom drawer and grabbed an old tshirt of Anakin’s and a pair of his loose boxers that you sometimes wore as shorts. “Put them on.”
You scowled, but tried to bite back your words. In some strange way of his own he was being nicer. He was trying. He obviously felt terribly about how he’d scared you into a panic attack, he cared enough to check up on you. You may as well play along.
After getting dressed you put your hands on your hips and faced him squarely.
“Run.”
“What?” You asked in confusion.
“Run.” He barked, his voice gritty and dangerous, he stood up to his full height and flicked open his knife again. “Get movin’, go!”
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 10 hours
Note
Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.
hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖
A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader
[6:00]
Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.
Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.
“Where you... going...”
Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.
Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.
“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.
“Stay... please...”
“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”
“You feel better than blåhaj...”
“...”
It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.
Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.
Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.
Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...
The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.
[12:00]
“Can we eat fries for lunch?”
you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.
“No”
“WHYYYY!”
“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.
okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.
just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.
“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.
What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.
“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.
“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.
“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.
Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.
[18:00]
You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.
“Mushroom”
“Mango”
“Oreo”
“Orange”
“Egg”
“g...”
“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”
“Fucking hell...”
Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.
[23:00]
“Time to sleep.”
“but I want to watch this movie.”
“You can watch it tomorrow.”
“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”
“...Fine.”
(00:00)
Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.
He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.
He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.
He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.
“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.
a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u
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valkyrieeeee · 3 days
Text
You have surgery | Han Jisung
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ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,
ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia
ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!) Edited!
Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin| Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand you're holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.
A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.
"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.
With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.
-
As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.
Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.
Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.
You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.
Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?
And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. How are you feeling" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.
A flicker of sadness passes through his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. Do you remember? We've been together for a few years now."
You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."
Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.
Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.
"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.
You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.
"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.
With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.
And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.
You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.
"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."
Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."
You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"
But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."
As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.
Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.
Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.
"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."
Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."
"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.
His gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.
After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.
As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.
During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.
When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.
"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.
As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.
Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.
With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.
But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.
Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.
Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.
You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.
Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."
You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.
"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."
As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.
Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.
You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."
Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."
With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.
As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.
Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.
As he continues to feed you spoonful's of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.
"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.
Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon.
Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.
Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.
"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.
As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."
You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."
Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.
"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."
Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."
A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."
You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."
As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.
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AITA for asking my boyfriend to stop watching porn?
This is pretty simple tbh. NSFW mentions of porn, sex, and masturbation.
🐣🐣
I am a transgender man and struggle a lot with sexual intimacy. I don’t think I’m on the ace spectrum, I just have a lot of insecurities and dysphoria that I’m working through. I still crave sexual intimacy, I just get very anxious about it. My boyfriend is understanding but a little pushy at times because he’s got a high sex drive. He doesn’t do it on purpose and backs off when I tell him to. Important to mention that my boyfriend is cis. So, because of this, my boyfriend usually takes care of himself. I help out whenever I feel comfortable.
Recently, we somehow started talking about porn and hentai (don’t remember the context of the conversation) and I asked him what he does when he takes care of himself. He said he watches porn, which I was surprised to hear but it makes sense because he has aphantasia. So, he can’t really imagine me or anything. Sometimes he uses my photos, but he said he needs some movement. At first I was fine with it, but then he mentioned that he only watches straight porn.
Now, I know my reaction was out of line, because I started crying and calling him an asshole for watching straight porn when he’s dating a trans guy. He’s pansexual, so he can really watch any kind of porn he wants, but I just started freaking out for some reason.
He kept telling me that there was no good gay stuff or ftm stuff, which is just straight up not true. There’s plenty of ftm nsfw content, but when I mentioned that, he said it felt weird and fetishistic.
I told him it hurts me when he watches straight porn, he said that’s stupid and he needs something to get off to. Fair enough but it still hurts me. There’s just something about me trying so hard to get past my anxiety and dysphoria so we can finally be intimate with each other and him blatantly disrespecting my gender identity that hurts like hell.
Plus, every time I suggested we do something that I’m into, he shot me down. I’m a bit of a kinkier guy and he’s very vanilla, despite insisting that he’s into the same stuff as me. I 100% respect his boundaries and never brought it up again. But I don’t think it’s fair that he won’t even try stuff with me that might make intimacy more enjoyable for me and then goes and watches straight porn. I keep trying to make our sex live work and he can’t even be bothered to figure out ftm bodies. Idk.
I talked to an online friend and they called me biphobic.
Am I out of line for trying to tell him what kind of porn to watch? Am I overreacting?
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ecliphttlunar · 3 days
Text
Medicine - Chris Sturniolo
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Summary: You were having a difficult day where negative thoughts shook you, but luckily your boyfriend Chris is always there to save you
Warnings: cute, hugs, kisses, negative thoughts, a little angst
Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
You were sad, so sad, at that moment, your life didn't seem to make sense.
You felt ugly, incapable, inappropriate, God! You were feeling every negative feeling there was, even non-existent ones.
And there weren't enough words that could describe what you were feeling.
You traveled all over the world, collected lyrics, but nothing, nothing could describe this feeling that took over your heart.
And so you asked yourself, how could you talk to someone about this?
Talking to others about your feelings was never really a problem, at least not with your closest friends.
But now? You were a child who was left on a road in the middle of the night.
Lost.
Alone.
In the dark.
At least that's what you thought while cooking dinner at the triplets' house.
You thought that no one could understand what you were feeling, not when you couldn't form words, so why waste other people's time, why be inconvenient by saying that you didn't feel well, when no one could understand you, help you.
When you didn't even understand what you were feeling?
You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice Chris's gaze on you.
Chris knew something was wrong the moment you appeared in the room, your shoulders slumped, your eyes heavy, your smile weak, dejected.
You always had big smiles that brighten any darkness, but now? His smile was wan, a smile that tried to hide his tears.
He didn't know what had happened, if someone hurt you, if they said something that hurt you, if you were in physical pain or not.
But he knew, he was sure, that everything wasn't okay.
Then, he got up from the couch, the place he had been sitting staring at you for the last 10 minutes, and walked towards you.
You were always alert to your surroundings, no matter the situation, you always noticed when something had happened to someone, or when a person approached, so when he approached you, and you didn't notice, as if someone had blindfolded you , he worried.
He was behind you, when he wrapped his arms around you, you were a little startled by the sudden contact, jumping slightly, and looking back.
It was just Chris.
You let out a sigh of relief.
"Don't do that anymore, you scared me" You said softly, when you went back to mixing the food in the pan.
"Everything is fine?" He ignored what you said, needing to know what was happening as quickly as possible.
"Why the question?" You ask back.
You always did this, when you didn't want to answer something, you asked the person a question as an answer.
"You don't look like you're on planet Earth today"
"No? Where do I look like I am? In fact, if I weren't on earth, how would you be hugging me now?"
“No, not like that, you’re here, but at the same time, you’re not here” you raise an eyebrow.
“Your body is here, your mind is not” You go back to mixing dinner, taking a deep breath.
"It's okay, I'm just tired" You weren't lying, you really were tired, but one of the main reasons for those words was because you really wanted to close this subject, you know that tomorrow you would wake up better.
But of course, Chris didn't accept that. He knew there was something more, and he wanted to find out what it was.
He was always like that, he was always there for you, even when you didn't want anyone, you just wanted to be alone.
And that was why you loved him so much.
Because he was your guardian angel, your bulletproof vest when everything got dangerous, he stayed in front of you when you were in the crosshairs.
He was there to heal all your scars.
And you knew he could save you now, when you are in the crosshairs of negativity.
His body leaned over yours a little, taking the spoon out of your hand and throwing it into the sink.
You tried to take the spoon back, making the excuse that the food wasn't ready and you needed to stir it more.
But Chris was watching you, he knew that you had turned off the stove for more than 5 minutes.
He turned his body to face him, and hugged his waist.
"Talk to me, what's going on?" He asked again.
But what he received in response was silence, and his eyes were watery.
"Honey..." He began, a speech already planned in his mind to make you speak, at least the basics, so he would know what happened, but this moving speech was not necessary, because right after he called you, the words ran out of his mouth like a river.
And now, you were a mess.
A beautiful mess in Chris's eyes, even with your tear stained face, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, you looked beautiful.
The gods knew how beautiful you looked.
"I don't know, I woke up like this, I'm just sad, nothing really happened, I just... I feel ugly, inappropriate, annoying, I don't know, I, I don't know, I can't explain it." You tried, you really tried, but you couldn't, gods, you didn't even know who you were at that moment.
You didn't know what were happening.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, pretty girl, it's okay, you don't need to say anything else, I already understand, I got you, I'm here with you." He cupped your face and dried your tears, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. Trying to calm you down.
Which, even though it took a while, worked.
You let out a shaky breath. And when you look up, back at him, you realize he was thinking of a solution.
"What do you think about us lying down, cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, we don't need to say anything, just cuddle, do you want that?"
You smile lightly and nod, hugging Chris's waist, and hiding your face in his chest.
You stayed like that for a while, when you finally started moving to the couch, you on top of Chris, while you chose a movie.
It had been about 10 minutes into the movie, and you were already feeling better, but there was still something bothering you.
And of course, Chris noticed, so he did what he knew would help, what always helps, he kissed you.
He gently grabbed your chin and kissed your lips, making all that pain you were feeling go away.
Making you feel better than you ever have.
He could do this.
He was your medicine.
You separate, and look at each other, you smile in thanks, and lay your head back on his chest.
For the first time that day, feeling good.
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satorusugurugurl · 5 hours
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 5,115
Warning: cursing, apologies, fingering, handjobs, smut 🥹, fluff
A/N: Well everyone, we have one more part of this series. 🥲 But I plan on taking requests for our sweet, complicated couple! !! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five
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“You want what?” Satoru stared blankly at you, blinking ever so slowly like a cat. Your words seemed to have short-circuited his brain.
“I said I want a refund.” your tone is stoic, “I am not happy with the services I was provided.” Satoru’s shocked expression twists into a wide grin as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “High-end escort, my ass.”
Satoru laughs, throwing his head back as a faint flush grazes over his cheeks. “Yeah? Not happy at all, huh?” His eyes dance over your features.
“Nope! This jerk got up and left me after I paid him.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically. “Not only am I out an ungodly amount of money, but I’m also dateless for this wedding.”
“He sounds like a class-A-asshole.” Satoru’s hand gently reaches out, cupping your cheek.
“Yeah, he was.” His heart flutters at ‘was’ instead of ‘is,’ an ember of hope flickers to life in his chest. “Then again, he said sorry, and punched the hell out of my asshole ex, so I guess he isn’t that bad.”
Satoru’s fingers are so warm and gentle against your face. His thumb brushed over tear-stained cheeks as he pulled you in, closing the distance between you. His forehead presses gently against your own as he shuts his eyes.
“I’ll make sure you get every last cent back.” White lashes life, pools of breathtaking blue peek through them, meeting you. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Cool,” you sighed, leaning into his touch, “I would like to use that money to take a few pastry classes.”
God, hearing you say that makes Satoru’s heart leap with joy. “Money well spent, not that you need it. Your pastries are the absolute best.” your hand reaches up, gently holding Gojo’s firmly against your cheek, not allowing him to move. He swallows thickly at the regret forming in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me after you left?”
“Maybe an hour,” he scoffed, his breath hot against your lips, “I honestly have to give Suguru the credit. He knocked the sense into my head.”
“Thank God for Suguru.”
“Yeah, he called me a fucking idiot.”
“Well—.”
“I know, I was the biggest fuckin’ idiot.”
Silence washed through the room. It wasn't uncomfortable in the silence, reminding you of the first night you two spent together. Things had been so smooth and natural with him, and they still were. Satoru hadn't believed you at first. He said some fucked up shit, but he had apologized for them. He had told you himself that he wanted to make your relationship work.
Staying angry and pushing him away would be too easy. You could quickly write this off as another failed relationship. Or you could do one of the hardest things a person could do.
You could fight.
Fight for what could be a relationship that only comes once in a lifetime. Fight for a future. You could fight to see this through, to see where it took you both.
You sat back, sighing dramatically. “I guess I owe Suguru a drink when you introduce us.” Cerulean eyes were the size of peas as your words washed over Satoru.
“What?”
“Or maybe I’ll take him to lunch for his help.” Heart thundering, you did your best to keep cool, examining your nails boredly. “Or better yet, I could make us three dinner. I may be a professional baker who works with confectioners sugar, but my curry is to die for.”
“S-Sweetheart—”
You grabbed Satoru’s face, pulling him as close to you as possible. “Toru,” The man stiffened at the use of his nickname, “you said what we have is worth fighting for. That you want to be with me.” You inched closer to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones.
“I did say that, and I meant every word.” He leaned into your touch, his hands caressing your bruising knuckles.
“Are you positive?”
“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't.”
“How can you be so sure? How will we make this work when you're an escort?” Dread worked its way through your stomach, settling over your chest. “I—I don't think I could just wait at home for you to come back from work. But I also don't want to keep you from doing something you love. You do it to help people; it makes you happy. I don't want to take that away from you.”
From the mere silence, you weren't sure what was going through Satoru’s mind. He just stayed stoic, glancing over you with an unreadable expression. God, maybe this was something he didn't want to give up.
What felt like an eternity of silence ended as Satoru moved. Your hands fell onto your lap as he ran his hands over your upper arms in smooth, gentle strokes. You had been so uncertain of what he would say or do, how he would react to your hesitancy. The way his crystalline blue eyes burned with a fiery passion told you everything you needed to know without the use of words.
“Sweetheart, I would rather fight with you than take on another client.”
His words felt like they’d stolen your soul. Your bottom lip quivered just as a trembling sob had your body shaking. Satoru pulled you into his lap, toned arms wrapping around you as you straddled him. His large palm stroked the back of your head as your chest pressed firmly against his.
You tried not to cry, but the relief was too much. Soft sobs vibrated in your chest as your head buried itself deep into the crook of Satoru’s neck, your hot, joyful tears staining his shirt. Not once did Satoru attempt to move you. He did the opposite, pulling you tighter against him, his fingers curled into your hair, stroking your scalp as you sobbed.
Those few words meant the entire world to you. The doubts and fears eating away at you like moths on cloth ceased to exist. They were replaced with a swarm of multi-colored butterflies that flutter in your stomach and heart.
You could make this work.
Pulling away from Satoru’s neck, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, but Satoru gently batted your hands away. His thumbs brushed against your flushed skin, wiping away the tears of joy. His touch, much like his words, embodied his affection for you. That sweet gesture made you want to cry more, but you were confident that all the crying you'd done in the last eighteen hours had dried up your tear ducts.
“I want to make this work with you.” Satoru gently cupped the back of your head. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”
”Thank you for apologizing.” You gently ran your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. “And for punching Toji, it was so hot seeing you get all mad.”
Satoru held you tight, flopping down onto the futon with a chuckle. “You thought I was hot? Imagine me coming back to get my sunglasses with my tail between my legs to see kitchen utensils being flung through the kitchen.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Seeing you going feral, slapping and kicking at a man twice your size, got me all hot and bothered.” He nuzzled your neck with a very phony bad prono moan. “I’d let you hit me all you want; just tell me I’m a good boy when you do.” His lips peppered kisses up your neck before pressing against the corner of your mouth, winning a series of giggles from you.
“Toru, you’re crazy.” Your words held no heat as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Mhmm, I’m crazy about you.”
You ran your fingers through his hair before you pulled him in, kissing him softly. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he kissed back. His smooth lips gently moved against yours. Maybe your lips tingle because of the taste of his mint toothpaste, or it could be the spark between you. Little fireworks exploded over your lips, deep in your chest, and even further between your legs.
The same embers that had burned hot and bright inside of you last night began to glow red hot with need. Your hands roamed down from his hair to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you turned your head. Satoru’s eyes opened, focusing on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, how flushed your face and chest were, and the subtle way you rocked your hips up against him.
He pulled back, panting heavily against your slightly ajared mouth. “Sweetie.” He breathed out.
“Sorry,” you released him, “sorry.” Now might not be the right time to lose yourself into passion. But before you could spiral into your thoughts, Satoru followed your retreating hands, gently holding them.
”I don’t want you to stop.” He placed one of your hands back on his shirt, and you instantly grabbed a hold of the fabric. “Just be aware of the effect that you have on me.” He took your free hand, pressing it against his semi-hard cock that was twitching to life in his pants.
A sudden burst of confidence took over you. Licking your lips, you gently began stroking him while you gripped his shirt as tight as you could. Satoru shuddered, pressing both his hands on either side of your head caging you underneath him. A string of soft, murmured cries of your name slipped through his lips as he bucked into your hand.
”You’re twitching so hard.”
”Can’t help it, a beautiful woman is rubbing my cock.”
Releasing his shirt, you ran your hand over his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. He perked up, putting all his weight on his left hand as you gently led his other past your breasts, down your stomach, before you pressed him firmly over your clothed pussy. “I'm twitching, too.” Satoru’s cock throbbed hard underneath your palm. “You okay?” an aching growl rose in his throat as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.
“Y-Yeah, I think I just almost came in my pants.”
“Over touching my pussy?”
“No, it's because of you.” Your hips jerked as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “You're so goddamn irresistible. I want to please you.” fingers rubbed faster, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.”I want you to call out my name, to make you cum so hard you think you're about to ascend.”
“Oooh, oooh fuck.” Satoru sucked in a breath as you slid your hand into his boxers. “Toru~ Feels good.”
“Yeah, it d-does.” He choked out, sliding his hand under your panties. “Fuuck, you weren't kidding.” Thick long fingers ran over your clit, spreading your slick arousal over the tiny bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet.”
You shifted, facing him, “I wanna try something.” Satoru nodded, kissing you deeply as you both tugged your pants and underwear off, followed by shirts. Once you were bare, you slotted your hips over his legs, resting your legs on either side of him. “This way, I can kiss and touch you.” Your words cut off as Satoru slammed his lips against yours in a starved, searing kiss.
You kiss his back, moaning and gasping against his lips. He used the opportunity of you gasping to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue searched for yours, wrapping and massaging it with his own as his fingers groped your breasts. He still tasted like mint, and the smell of musk overwhelmed you as his fingers gently kneaded you. His hands are so warm and gentle against the softness of your breasts; it's a bold contrast to the way his mouth roughly moves against yours.
He’s devouring you, making you melt against his body. You wanted to make him feel the same way you did, warm and fuzzy. You desired for Satoru to be desperate, like a thirsty man dehydrated in the desert, and you were his oasis. Reaching between your bodies, you rubbed your fingers up and down your pussy, collecting your slick over them. Hering the pitch change in your voice, Satoru followed your hand. The instant he saw your pretty fingers rubbing yourself, he growled into your mouth before breaking the kiss.
”A-Are you that desperate for relief?” Satoru sighed heavily against your lips, tongue flicking out, licking at the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll rub that perfect pussy~”
“I-I—oooh god,” you rubbed your clit in a short circle before dipping your hand back down, collecting more of your slick. “n-not doing it for my sake.”
”No?” Satoru nipped gently at your bottom lip, his hands massaging the fat of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Then please tell me whose sake you’re doing it for.”
”Yours.”
Before Satoru could ask what you meant, he jumped as you wrapped your slick fingers around his thick throbbing cock. His head falls back as you begin rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off, using your slick as lube. Feeling the heat from your juices and hand had Satoru losing himself, just like you wanted. He melted, his hands shakily grabbed you in order to ground himself as you jerked your wrist up and down faster.
”Feels good,” He groaned out, his hand dipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “but it’s not fair if I’m the only one feeling good now.” The tiniest moan passes through your pursed lips; your eyes meet him as you try to focus on keeping your hand moving up and down over his cock. But damn, his hands were too talented, it was hard to keep up with him. “God, you’re so wet just for me. If it feels this amazing on my fingers,” His hand dips further, two of his fingers pressing their way past your tight entrance and into your dripping cunt. “I can’t imagine how good it feels to be buried inside you.”
His fingers curl, rubbing your spongy sweet spot. They massage it, not stopping as you cry out softly against his mouth, your eyes narrowing as you stare into his eyes. They were usually full of light, but with his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock, they were full of dark, desperate desire. If you were to move a certain way or make a single sound, he would be inside of you in the blink of an eye.
Which wasn’t a bad thing.
His lips were on yours, his moans flooding inside your mouth as you teased the tip of his dick with your thumb. Rubbing the pre-cum beading at the slit around the red swollen tip. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed at the intense pleasure, his thumb mimicking the same pattern and strokes of your hand against your twitching clit. It didn’t take long for you to start rocking your hips against his hand, chasing your orgasm. Noticing the way you greedily fucked yourself on his fingers, Satoru pulled back, watching your hips rolling against him, desperately chasing the high you felt coming.
”What a good girl you are, taking what you want, what you need. I fucking love that.” A deep sigh escaped him, his breath fanning against your lips. “I love it, watching you lose all fucking control, it gets me off.” His cock twitched in your hand, emphasizing his point. “If you make yourself cum hard, I promise you I’ll make you cum ten times harder on my dick.” Satoru feels your walls flutter around his fingers. “You like the idea of that? Your pretty cunt seems to, she’s squeezing around me.”
”Y-Yeah, I want you, Satoru, want to feel you inside of me so back.”
”Cum for me first, then I’ll be sure to give you everything you want.”
You press your lips messily over his. “You promise? Promise you’ll give me everything I want?” His forehead presses against yours, his bangs sticking against your sweet sheen skin. “Promise?” You whine out desperately.
”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll give you everything you want and then some.”
Those positive affirmations were all you needed to have you gushing over his fingers. You silently scream against his lips, eyes clenched tight as you rocked and roll your hips against him. Satoru takes note of how your lips quiver and the way your back arches, pressing your breasts against his bare chest. Noting the way you sounded, how pretty you looked when you shattered and trembled in his lap as your hand squeezed his dick almost too hard as you let the waves of your orgasm hit you one after another.
Watching you cum in his lap would be a memory he’d look back on on lonely nights. God, he wanted to cum with you, to paint your tummy white with his hot seed. But the urge to pin you underneath him, you fuck you slowly, was stronger. Satoru wanted to have you cum that hard around his cock. To watch as you lose yourself in pure bliss because you deserve to. God, you deserved more than that, but this would be a good start.
He fully intended to make you feel this good as long as you would allow him.
When you found the strength to open your eyes slowly, you caught a glimpse of blue. Satoru had you pushed back on the futon, his fingers sliding out of you. His lips gently roamed over your breasts, kissing the mounds before his hands forced your legs apart. “Please tell me you still have that party favor bag.” He breathed out over your skin.
”You seriously think I would throw my terrible cheap penis candy away?” Satoru chuckled, lifting his head to watch you snatch a pink bag lying off to the side of you. “You'd be right; I fully intend on throwing it away once we use the condoms.”
“I have to admit, knowing you won’t be eating penis candy makes me feel pretty good.” He opened the bag, pulling out the six condoms shoved inside of it.
“I’m not opposed to eating penis candy if it tastes good.” A white brow arches at you. “I mean, I sucked yours last night, didn’t I?” You smirk as he fumbles, nearly dropping the foil packages in his hand. “I clearly remember just how sweet you tasted. Although I may need a reminder soon to confirm.”
”Babe, please, you’re going to make me blow my load before I even get inside of you.”
You watch as he tosses the other condoms to the side before ripping open the gold foil of a magnum condom with his teeth. ”Oooh, right, yeah.” Swallowing hard, you gape when Satoru rolls the condom over his cock with ease.
He slowly pushed his hips against yours, grinding his cock over your entrance to your clit. “Do you remember what I said to you our first night here at the inn?” Your soft moans are music to his ears as he grinds against you faster. “After you told me why you didn’t need to have sex?” Right now wasn't the time you wanted to be quizzed over things he said four days ago.
“Haah, fuck—uhm, you said you hoped that I would be able to recover soon?” His cock head pressed firmly against your entrance. “Nggh, I—I can’t remember. It’s hard to think when you’re teasing me like this.”
” No, you’re right. I did say I hoped you would recover.” His tip pressed harder against you, making your legs shake. “But I also said I wanted you to be able to have the most mind-blowing sex of your life.” The world seemed to slow as the gentleness of his words had you blinking. “I never thought I would be the one you’d be with.”
Something about the softness of his voice and the way he lovingly brushed his thumb over your bottom lip had your heart racing. This moment felt surreal as you replayed that first night again in your head. How you had cried in front of the escort you had hired to be your wedding date. He could have easily pushed you away, cringed over your complicated past, or not given a shit.
Instead, he hugged you and stroked your hair as you cried. He listened to you and allowed you to vent. This man went as far as defending you, siding with you. Satoru had held you close, bringing a certain comfort to your life you'd never felt before. It was a perfect full circle.
“I wouldn't want to be with anyone but you, Toru.” Gently cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him down, kissing him as passionately as you could. The warmth of your touch and the brush of your lips against his own made Satoru swell with excitement before shifting into a calmness that worked through him. “I need you.” You gasped out against his swollen lips.
“Then you’ll have me.”
Not wanting to waste another moment, Satoru gently pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. You gasped against his lips, eyes wide as he stretched you. His ab’s clenched as he held himself back, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, as his lips gently moved over your cheeks. Only when he felt your walls unclench and your legs wrap around did he begin pushing back inside of you.
Satoru couldn't get over how tight you felt wrapped around him, how warm you were. He'd slept with his fair share of people, but this, the feeling of slowly slipping inside of you for the first time, was a moment he'd never forget. From the way you smelt and how your hot breath tickled his ear. The sensation of your finger scratching gently over his undercut would forever linger because he didn't want this to be the first or last time he buried himself inside of you.
No, he wanted you to be the only person he was this intimate with again. He could easily see himself feeling this profound, this drunk off of joy and excitement each time you slept together. Satoru wanted to only hear his name on your tongue from now on.
While you couldn't read his mind or feel the emotions that course through every being of his soul, you felt the same way. Being with Satoru like this just felt right. No doubt, no uncertainty sat at the pit of your stomach. Just excitement and joy. Like you were walking a tightrope without the fear of falling.
This was perfection.
“Y-You're so tight.” Satoru choked out with a laugh as he pushed further inside of you with a whine. “Oooh, so fucking tight, baby.”
“Y-Yeah~ you're so big, really big.” Your breath chokes out as he slides deeper inside. “Haaa-haaah.” You dig your heels into his ass, pushing him further inside of your tight heat.
“N-Nnngh fuck, someone's getting impatient.”
“I can't help it, I-I want it, I want you so fucking bad.”
Satoru grunts softly, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip before hems slowly pulling out of you. “I want it too, baby.” He slowly slides back in, angling his hips to rub perfectly over that sweet spot inside of you. “And I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” His tongue gently slid past your slightly parted lips as he set a smooth and gentle pace.
You kiss back softly, flicking your tongue over his as his cock fucks you gently into the bedding. Your mind is reeling, taking over every one of your five senses, from his taste and smell. How his groans and grunts sound in your ears. You could feel his muscles twitching as his cock slowly bullied its way over your g-spot before pressing gently over your cervix. But it was the way he looked at you that genuinely had your heart stammering. Satoru was looking at you with a certain softness as his face contorted with pleasure.
You whimpered as he smiled, planting kisses down your neck, gently suckling at it. Satoru put all the emotions in his chest into those gentle, tender kisses. Savoring the way you jerked and squirmed as he gently fucked into your cunt. He suffocates on the delectable addictive air that was you. You take his breath away with every tear-filled glance into his eyes; every gasp and cry is music to his ears. So, of course, he’s lost his grip of control. Grabbing both your hands, he pinned them on either side of your head, his fingers interlacing with them as he moved at a faster pace.
“Ah—hah Toru,” you squeeze his hands, “Satorru~!” Crying out against Satoru’s mouth, you squeeze your thighs around him. Seeing you this fucked out of your mind as he fucked his thick cock deeper inside of you, only had Satoru moving faster.
“Ooh baby~ fuck~ fuuuuck~ you're getting close. I can feel it.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re squeezing my cock just like you were squeezing my fingers.”
“Mmm yeah, M’ close Toru~!” You almost lose it as he grinds into you, his hips rubbing over your sensitive clit as his cock massages your sweet spots deep inside of you.
His grip on your hand tightens as he hisses, cock throbbing. “Oooh fuck, yeah baby, make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me.” One messy kiss followed by another. “Fuck~! Fuuuuck, I'm close too, gonna cum inside your tight hole~!” Nails dig into the back of his hands as your pussy clenched and twitches around him. “Yeah~ your pussy is so good~ telling me she likes what I’m saying. You want me to cum, yeah~?” Throw your head back, and you cry softly at the coil forming in your stomach.
“Y-Yeah wanna, wanna cum together~! Wanna—-ooooh god fuck me!” Satoru watched your eyes shut, tight eyebrows knitting together. He grinds his hips harder against your clit, buffs of deep growls leaving his mouth as his balls clench.
“Cum on my cock sweetheart~ yeah~ oooh fuck me yes!”
“Cu—” A scream of unfiltered ecstasy cuts off your words. Satoru watches you as you squirt over his crotch and the sheets beneath you both. “Ah!! Haaah!!”
Your trashing and shaking drives Satoru up the fucking wall. He frees your hands, gripping your hips, lifting them slightly so he can continuously fuck into your g-spot. Your legs shake aggressively as you fist the sheets. Your body was vibrating, eyes watering as you cum for a third time, watching as clear liquid soaks Satoru’s hips before you see white.
“Haa, fuck~ fuck~ fuck—” his head tips forward, watching his cock disappear inside of your convulsing pussy. “Cu-Cummin!” He bit out. “Cumming! Cumming!!” He doesn't scream like you, but he roars like a fucking beast. “Graahk! Fuuuck! Fuck!! Take it! Take all of my cum!”
You’re so sensitive it almost hurts to have Satoru thrusting himself inside you. He doesn't stop until his hips stop moving on their own, and the condom between you is filled to the brim. Only at that point does he gently pull out of you, grimacing as you wince in pained pleasure.
“Are you okay?” he gently asks as he takes the condom off, tying it to throw it in the trash can near the bed.
“I-I’m so good.” You drunkenly slur, but you haven't had a sip of alcohol. “Oh my god, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life.”
You could see Satoru swell with pride as he headed to the bathroom. “I guess my wish for you did come true.” You can hear the water running before he comes back. “How was the mind-blowing sex?”
“Confident in yourself?”
“I don't mean to come off as an arrogant ass.” He shrugs a shoulder as he drops to his knees gently, wiping your thighs and pussy clean with the warm rag in his hand. “But I'm ninety-five percent sure I saw your soul leave your body.”
“Okay! Okay!” You sputtered out a laugh as he wiped himself clean before lying beside you, pulling you into his side with a satisfied hum. “Okay, the mind-blowing sex was—” your eyes trailed up to his face, “well mind-blowing!”
“Ah~” he blows against his trimmed nails, “way to go, Satoru~” and rubs nails over his pectoral muscle.
“You dork!” you playfully smack his arm, “that was so uncool. Like the uncoolest thing to do.”
Satoru was beaming with joy as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You sighed, missing him back roughly before pulling away with a happy hum. “Still uncool?”
“Super uncool.”
“Worth a shot.”
You lay there, tracing shapes over Satoru’s chest. “Hey, Toru?” you asked, turning your head to study his perfect face. You were surprised to see him watching you, his blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, to the way your finger drew invisible hearts over him.
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“What are you doing this Saturday?” You swore the man underneath you twisted faster than the speed of light. There was a certain glimmer of excitement in his eyes that had your heart fluttering like the butterflies in your stomach.
“Well, I did have this client, but I was dumb enough to cancel on them, so my Saturday is free!”
“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “would you like to be my wedding date?”
“I would love to be your wedding date.”
Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)
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hllywdwhre · 2 days
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My Darling Boy
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Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Irish!fem!reader
Summary: Tommy’s late night leads to you comforting him and a recount of the first time you realized you loved him.
Warnings: Panic attacks, reader faces anti-Irish sentiment from a stranger, Tommy says some questionable things about the Irish but nothing too bad💀, violence, bar fight. Let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: 2.8K
Notes: This was 100% inspired by @red-write-hand ‘s Tommy bot. My god do I love that thing and fluff it gives me. I tried keeping this as reader friendly as possible, but some details had to be added to fit the plot, such as reader being Irish.
Edit: This has not been proofread and YIKES. Sorry for all the errors😭
Flashbacks are italicized!
You stared at the clock on your wall that read 2:07 AM. Tommy was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. It was your agreement. He could work as late as he wanted as long as he ate all three meals with you and came to bed at 11. The resolve had come almost a year ago when you’d finally told him you, his wife, felt like second place to his work.
But here it was. 2AM, your bed felt cold without him there, and this was the third time this week that he hadn’t come to bed on time.
You tried not to argue with him. He had enough stress with work and you didn’t want to be a source of more stress, but you had his same quick temper and you couldn’t deny that you were more than irritated that he was seemingly back to his old ways of ignoring your agreement.
You made your way down the hall and to his office, leaning against the door frame.
Tommy spoke before you could, “I know what you’re about to say.”
The exhaustion in his voice and the way he looked… defeated immediately caused a change of heart in you, though.
“My darling boy,” you said in a soft voice, making sure to use the pet name you had for him to try and avoid him thinking you were there for an argument.
“Don’t ‘my darling boy’ me,” he replied immediately with a bite in his tone, “Not when you’re here to start an argument with me. What time is it?”
You’d known Tommy since he came back from The Great War. You knew more than well enough by now to not take his words to heart when he was like this. He was taking his anger out on you, whether you deserved it or not.
You had blinded men and taken their tongues using the bladed Peaky Blinders cap for speaking to you the way Tommy was speaking to you, but Tommy was your soft spot. Somehow, you always remained calm when it came to Tommy.
You made your way over to his desk and picked up the empty whiskey glass that was next to a stack of papers that littered his desk.
“It’s 2 in the morning, my love,” you replied in a calm voice. You walked over to the fireplace where his bottle of whiskey sat and refilled the glass then placed it on the desk again.
He picked it up as soon as you set it down and took a long drink from it.
“I have work, you know that. The business doesn’t run itself.” He took another swallow of the liquid and you could see the way his breathing had picked up slightly.
It started to make sense in that moment. You knew Tommy as well as he knew you and as well as you knew yourself. You knew the signs of one of his panic attacks beginning and stepped between him and his desk.
“I know that. I’m not mad at you, darling,” you replied after a moment. You made sure to keep your voice the steady and calm tone you knew he needed at the moment as you spoke. “Can you look at me?”
Tommy took a deep breath before looking up at you and you could see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with the way his eyes seemed unable to focus on you. You lifted your hand to his cheek and gently ran your thumb across it in a slow motion.
“What’s your full name?” You asked him. The questions you would ask him changed from time-to-time so he wouldn’t get too used to them. They were simple questions, enough to distract him and get him to focus on you, but not enough to send him into a further panic.
“Thomas Michael Shelby, why?” He raised the glass to his lips again, but his breathing only picked up more.
You took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk behind you then placed his hand on your chest, right where you knew he would be able to feel your heartbeat.
“Focus on my breathing and my voice. What’s John’s wife’s name?” You asked him next.
You watched as he closed his eyes and did as you said, trying to match his breathing to yours as you began taking slower and deeper breaths.
“Esme,” he answered after a moment.
“When’s our wedding anniversary?” You asked next.
”The 17th of August.”
You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks at how quickly and easily he answered that question. It was the little things like that which reminded you that you were still his number one priority.
“Can you look at me again?” You asked him once you noticed his breathing had calmed down.
Tommy looked to you, his blue eyes immediately finding your eyes and locking onto them. The corner of his mouth tilted into a small smirk and you returned it with a small smile of your own.
“I love you,” you told him as you crawled into his lap and pulled him into a hug, trying to help ground him more.
He immediately returned your hug and buried his head into your neck. Your hands instinctively rose to the back of his head and gently ran your nails across the shaved part of it.
“I love you, too. Even when I’m a mess,” he replied quietly.
“You’re not a mess,” you argued immediately, “you’re my amazing husband, an amazing business leader, an amazing member of parliament, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
A sigh left his lips after a long moment and his head remained buried in your neck. His breathing was no longer panicked and he had relaxed into your hold completely.
“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered into your neck.
“Funny,” you said with a chuckle, “I think the same thing of me.” You moved your head enough so you could kiss his temple. “Love you with all my heart, Thomas Shelby. You’re my darling boy.”
As soon as the pet name left your lips, he was chuckling into your neck. It was one anyone else would be maimed for calling him, but somehow you saying it had won him over.
“Love you, too,” he murmured in response.
After a couple long minutes of the two of you curled into each other, and once you were sure he wouldn’t panic speaking of it, you asked him,
“What led to it?”
He immediately knew what you were asking and shook his head in your neck,
“Nothing,” he replied in a defeated voice.
You pulled back enough to cause him to raise his head and she the quirked brow you were giving him,
“Thomas Shelby, what do you tell me every time I try to say the same thing?”
Any time you tried to belittle your problems, Tommy was the one who was telling you that if it was causing you troubles, then it wasn’t nothing and it was worth talking about.
He grumbled something under his breath about using his own words against him and then finally answered.
“The bloody Irish,” he said loud enough for you to hear.
You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips. You knew Tommy knew better than to think she was laughing at him or her problems; you were simply laughing at the irony of it all.
“What have my people done now?” You asked, purposefully making your accent come out as thick as possible to pick on him.
“Made an illegal shipment without our say so,” Tommy replied and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well… we’ve never liked to obey the English. I think my ancestors are rolling in their graves at how soft I am with you,” you teased, hoping to get at least a chuckle out of him.
It worked and you could feel the way his body shook the slightest bit as the small laugh left him,
“You’re not soft, darling, you’re just civilized,” he teased in return.
You pulled away with a look of mock offense on your face,
“Hey, now! My people are very civilized, we just know how to have fun,” you told him.
You know Tommy held no actual disdain towards you or your Irish blood. He himself was part Irish. He only spoke this way around you to get under your skin and pick on you.
“If you call bar fights being civilized then sure, darling.” The smirk on his face told you he was still only teasing you.
You scrunched up your nose as you looked at him,
“Maybe not your strongest point, love. I’ve come home with a black eye from an English bar fight where, for once, I was genuinely an innocent bystander and I had to keep you from going after half of Small Heath,” you pointed out.
Tommy’s face immediately darkened at the memory of that night and he tried to stutter out some defense of how it was different, but you shook your head no.
“You know that was the night I realized I loved you?” You told him as your own version of the memories flitted through your mind and you tried to distract him from the darker thoughts of his mind.
Your words seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at you with surprise written on his features.
“Really?” He asked, unsure how else to reply.
You nodded in response and you felt another deep blush creep onto your cheeks. One thing you and Tommy had in common was that vulnerability didn’t come natural to you.
“Would you care to know how I remember that night?” You asked to which he nodded. “It was after a day of shopping with Ada and Esme. You and I had been together for three months at that point, and Ada and Esme were sure we were going to end up getting married, so they wanted to make sure I knew I was part of the family.”
You knew he knew all of this, but you wanted to tell him the whole story of how you had come to the realization and what had happened leading up to the fight.
”After we were done shopping, Esme had John meet us up at The Garrison so we could all have a drink.”
The three of you stumbled through the doors of the pub, giggling over something Ada had said.
John motioned the three of you over to the table he was sitting at, already having ordered a round of drinks for you. It was the first time you had sat outside of the private room the Shelbys had, and the last.
In the middle of the three of you telling John about the new dress Ada had bought, someone who’d had one too many drinks came stumbling over.
“I don’t get you Shelbys. You serve your country in the war then associate with some Irish scum,” he spat out, motioning from John to you.
You had met the other Shelbys while Arthur, Tommy, and John were in France. Polly had needed a bookkeeper for the betting shop and had taken you, even vouching for you when they had returned. After a year of working with them, one incident where you had been used as bait that had gone too far, and you’d been forced to defend yourself, Tommy had decided to make you an official Peaky Blinder. You may not wear your Peaky cap, but the bladed item was also on you. Offers had been made to hide blades in other women’s items of clothing, but you had denied. You had learned how to hide the cap among scarves, shawls, or in your bags and you wanted the official Peaky Blinders symbol.
John had immediately jumped to your defense that night in The Garrison.
“She’s a damn Peaky Blinder and has been for years! She can be trusted as well as any Englishman or woman.” He had defended, standing up to meet the man eye-to-eye as a warning to leave.
“Do you know who you’re talking about?” Ada said next, standing up also, “Irish or not, she’s Tommy’s girl and a Blinder.”
“I don’t give a shit if she’s Tommy’s current whore or not. She’s Irish scum and I don’t want to be in a pub with the likes of her,” the man spat back at Ada.
Esme and you both stood up at this and the rest of the pub had silenced as they watched the scene unfold. Seemingly out of thin air, a couple other Blinders that were present came to stand beside John as he told the man to leave the pub while he could still see the door.
Next thing you knew, Esme had pulled you harshly out of the way as a glass shattered against the wall behind you.
Chaos broke out immediately. Despite you trying to fight against them, a couple patrons or other members of the Peaky Blinders (you weren’t sure which) had tried to drag you, Ada, and Esme back to the office. During the mix, a blow landed on your cheek and you quickly swung back.
The fight seemed to halt immediately after. Even if the guy was brave enough to harass you for being Irish, throw a glass at your head, and fight John over everything, everyone else seemed to realize the grave mistake that had been made in that moment.
No one touched Thomas Shelby’s woman, and there she was with a bruise already evident on her cheek.
John grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck like he was nothing more than a rabid dog, called for you to follow him, and called for Esme and Ada to be walked back to the betting shop and for all the members of the Peaky Blinders present to go there, also.
You walked with John to the canal and were told by John that you ‘could do the honors of killing the bastard’ yourself.
After the deed was done, the two of you had walked back to the betting shop and arrived at the same time as Tommy.
You remembered the worry on his face as he looked for you, the anger that took over when he spotted the black eye, him screaming at everyone to give him an answer as to what had happened and who had harmed you, and the way he had pulled you into his arms in a hug that nearly crushed you.
You remembered the feeling of safety that washed over you once you were in his arms, the feeling of home, and the way you were able to ignore the chaos around you as others explained what exactly had happened that night.
You remembered the way he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you until he had personally looked you over for any injuries.
You remembered the look he had when you told him you’d killed the man. The disappointment over not being the one to do it himself, but the pride in you standing up for yourself.
“I remember being absolutely terrified when it finally clicked in my head what I was feeling. I have never feared you, but I was terrified of ever getting my heart broken again. I knew Esme and Ada had said they were sure we would be married, but my own insecurities came into play, and I was terrified you’d realize how much of a mess I could be and you’d leave me,” you told him, leaned in and kissing him softly for a moment before continuing on, “You never left me. Even when we’ve fought, you never let me feel like you were going to leave me. I learned that no matter what happened, you’d move the earth, heavens, and hells to make sure you always came back to me.”
Tommy remained silent as you finished your story. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but it seemed you had actually managed to make the man speechless.
“I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby,” you muttered as you leaned in to kiss him again, “I meant it the first time I said those words, when I accepted your proposal, when we said them at the altar, when I say them now, and every time in between. You’re my darling boy through it all.”
His hand came up to cup your face and he rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve meant them all, too. You’re mine until the end of time.”
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mysticheathenn · 2 days
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What Do You Need To Work On To Bring in Love?
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about where in your life that you need to work on in order to bring in love.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Awakening, 5 of Cups, Page of Wands, 8 of Swords, Knight of Cups.
Self Esteem. Regardless of gender some of you have dealt with a "maneater" in the past. What I mean is you dealt with someone who made you feel as if you weren't worth anyone's time. They made you feel little, made you question your worth, and so forth. Some of you are either still dealing with this person (very few) while others of you are still grieving and trying to heal from this past relationship. Some of you are actually trying to heal but every single time you feel you are making any kind of progress you take two steps back and it's ass if you're still in that relationship all over again. You're not too sure how to change things for the better or heck some of you don't think you will get better and you will forever be "broken". I'm here to tell you that things will get better, you just need to find out WHO you are and what YOU think of yourself and not what anyone else thinks. Find something that you like about yourself no matter how small. This can be you loving your dimples, your kindness, the way your farts smell, anything, and start from there and work your way up to other things you may love about yourself. Ask loved ones what they love about you and try to see what they see and do affirmations in the mirror. Some of you may even benefit from Mirror Work or if you are readers reading Mirror Work by Louise Hay. Either way, you are worth loving, you are beautiful, you are amazing, etc etc.
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Pile ll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Pentacles (reversed), The Sun, 10 of Cups (reversed), King of Cups
Mindset. Similar to Pile l but a bit different. Instead of this pile dealing with a previous relationship, I'm hearing "It's me, hi...I'm the problem it's me" You are the problem. Some of you don't believe that you are meant to be happy or even find true love. This could be because of a previous relationship that made you feel this way or because of self-worth or the constant videos on social media that show you toxic relationships and you feel that all the good people are taken. Either way, You need to start believing that good things can and will happen for you regardless of what your surroundings show you. Regardless of how the past has treated you. Most importantly regardless of what social media or even your friends and family's relationships may show you to make you want to stay single. True love is out there and it's waiting for you to switch your mindset to the Sun card and believe that all good things happen to you. Nothing but amazing people flow into your life. Some of you I believe may feel this way because you constantly get lesson after lesson from the universe and from what I am hearing for a "good" reason that I rather not touch on because everyone's path is different. ("Good" meaning transformation within yourself for the better not good that you deserve it.) Read romance novels, and tap into the algorithm that shows you healthy relationships. I know there was a trend on TikTok recently where one female wanted people to display their healthy relationships to give others hope because her algorithm kept showing toxicity and weaponized incompetence from partners, etc. Do any and everything that you can do to surround yourself with positive and loving love.
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Pile lll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), King of Swords, Page of Wands, 5 of Swords
Self Worth. Pile lll you have a horrible habit of letting people go. You're like a hoarder but for people. Some of you are giving me the definition of "I can fix them." Even when a person treats you horribly, even when someone disrespects you, even when a person shows you nothing but red flags, you are always there for them ready to take whatever it is they want to give you. You literally will take whatever scraps a person will give you if it means that you feel they thought of you for a split second. A very few have FOMO. What do I mean? I mean you are staying in this toxic environment waiting for that one day or the chance of them turning their ways around and treating you the way that you truly deserve. Instead of you constantly always making excuses for their bad and wild behavior. Call a spade a spade, please. If they are not calling, being communicative, or even giving you the time of day. They are not interested. I think I have a video clip of what you need to hear, Click Here. The lady in the video speaks about men but this goes for any and all genders if I am being honest. People will do what they want to do. People will treat you how they want to treat you regardless of gender. Overall the saying being delulu is the solulu was not meant for you babe. Wake up, smell, and pour the coffee on yourself to wake up your senses to know you deserve better and there are people out here ready to give you attention, love, affection, etc and you don't have to beg or wait by the door like a dog for it.
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Pile lV:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Wands, The Moon, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), The Emperor, 8 of Swords
Divine Feminine. Pile lV I want to hug you because I see myself in you a bit. You deal with hyper-independence badly when it comes to relationships or even in life for some of you. Just in case you don't know what that means, it means you can't release control to others because you feel like the saying "If you want something done right, do it yourself." Someone or many people in your life or even past relationships always made you feel like you always had to do everything because you can't count on everyone. You literally have to carry the whole relationship on your shoulders. You also remind me of the quote "Since I stopped texting people first, I haven't heard from a lot of people in a while." You may have also been drawn to pile lll some of you at least. Either way, you need to start operating in your divine feminine and letting the chips fall where they may. If anyone wants to be in your life the phone, intentions, etc works both ways. Let people show you how much you mean to them without needing to control every single outcome in order to not want to lose someone because you either aren't sure when or if someone else will come along or because you want this relationship to work out because you have been in so many that you are tired of leaving the chips where it may. For a few of you, I sense you may be the type that has a five year plan like you want to have kids, get married, have a few dogs, that kind of plan and you feel if you leave it up to others you will never get there. One thing I will tell you about that mindset is it will have you settling pile lV. Let people show you how they love others. If it isn't what you expect, want, or desire then you need to leave. Stop settling, stop trying to carry the entire relationship, just stop baby. You deserve to for once operate in your feminine energy. You deserve to sit back and relax while you let someone pour into you instead of the other way around.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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c-nstantine · 12 hours
Text
to be a muse
Description: Benedict meets a fascinating young woman
Word Count: 0.9K
Warnings: I think I made Benedict a bit of a himbo but that's okay. the reader is still black and even though she's charlotte's daughter, I made it so she's any skin tone which lowkey makes sense given how wild genetics work
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Benedict stared at the painfully blank canvas of his family's drawing room. Hyacinth's and Gregory's laughter could be heard running about in the family's home. Kate and Anthony were doing god knows what, honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up from the love that came from the both of them.
"Brother, I fear I'm in a rut," Benedict announced while plopping himself down in between Colin and Eloise. He reached over and stole one of Eloise's bonbons.
"I beg your pardon," Colin said as he jolted awake from Benedict's sudden appearance.
"Nothing, and I mean nothing, has inspired me. Idle hands," He waved his hands in the air for extra effort.
"You are out of inspiration and you woke me up to tell me this," Colin tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but nothing was working as Benedict yapped on and on about art.
"Yes," Benedict shrugged.
"Have you tried going to the museum? I hear there is a new exhibit. It might spark something for you," Eloise just wanted to eat her bonbons in peace.
"That's why you are my favorite, " He ruffled her hair before dashing off to find his coat before heading to the museum.
-
He stood in front of a painting for what felt like hours. It seemed like he was waiting for something to come to him, his inspiration. Footsteps shuffled around him, yet, Benedict remained unmoved.
"I find his work to capture the inquisitive nature of who he paints," A melodic voice came from behind him. He turned a saw a woman around his age with the most beautiful features. Delectable lips, and round cheeks, and her skin looked like it was kissed by the gods themselves. The gorgeous shade of brown, he had ever seen.
"You do? That is a refreshing perspective. My family thinks them all to be faces on a canvas," He probably should have addressed her more formally but for now he was happy to have someone share interests with him.
"They are but they are also so much more. Each brush stroke is an attempt to capture a moment. No matter how imperfect it may be," She looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips. His eyes lingered there a little long before dragging down the rest of her body. She did not have the clothing of a commoner. She must be a lady, he thought to himself.
"Are you a painter?" He asked.
"I am talentless in art, I'm afraid but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. And what about you?" She shook her head and he noticed the bouncy curls that fell from her scalp. He was becoming more and more entranced by the moment.
"I dabble. I am not great enough for a museum. My siblings believe it to be my hobby," He admitted rather shyly.
"Yet. You are not great enough for a museum, yet. Mister?" She asked for his name.
"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton," Benedict gave her a small smile as he introduced himself. She chuckled slightly.
"It has been wonderful chatting with you, Mr. Bridgerton, but I fear I may have to leave." She looked disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. Benedict looked up at the painting and began to speak.
"What is your name so I may fin-" He looked down and she was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd before he could finish his statement. He pushed to the entrance of the museum but there was nothing.
-
"All of this happened and you did not catch the lady's name?" Colin asked as he and Benedict made their way away from the mothers who all wanted their daughters paired with a Bridgerton.
"She was perfect. I only entertained Mother's idea of me coming to the ball tonight in hopes of seeing her," Benedict said while adjusting his waistcoat and smiling at some of the season's eligible debutantes but none of them were her.
"And if she's not here?" Colin asked, his eyebrows squinted and a bit concerned by the potential answer.
"I will simply cease," He deadpanned.
"Cease what?"
"To exist," Benedict said and watched as more and more people arrived at the ball. Even the Queen was in attendance, but someone far more interesting trailed behind her. 
"Stop hitting me. Mother, he's hitting me," Colin said as Benedict repeatedly tapped his brother's shoulder. Benedict's eyes were wide as they trailed the woman he met in the museum. 
"That's her. That's the woman," Benedict said watching her gracefully walk across the room. She was dressed in the finest silks and her curls that were wild and free earlier were pinned back.
"Well, that cannot be," His mother started. Her son could not have been talking about her. That would have been impossible. 
"What are you talking about? She is right there. Even more beautiful than when I saw her last," He noted her appearance before quickly bowing in the presence of Queen Charlotte. Sure, the family had her favor, but even they knew their place.
"Bridgertons, I do not think I have introduced my daughter. Princess Y/N, she takes after me in beauty of course," The Bridgertons turned and then bowed in front of the Princess who looked mortified.
"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," She spoke softly as her gaze held Benedict's. He understood why she dashed away. The scandal of an unmarried princess wandering the museum alone. Especially, considering how long the two of them spoke together.
"A pleasure indeed," He would see her again. He had to find his muse.
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Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo @blckbarbiedoll idk if you guys wanna be here for this because it's a bit diff from my usual content but just let me know!!
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