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#sorry i made this angsty half way through
hwashotcheeto · 23 hours
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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)
Best Friend's Mother Masterlist
Chapter: Ten
Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader
Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.
WC: 6.3k
CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off
AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜
Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby
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It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 
But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 
You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 
Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 
You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 
“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 
“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 
“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 
At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 
You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 
But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 
But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 
Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 
You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 
“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 
“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 
You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 
You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 
So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 
The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 
“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 
Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 
He was everything. He was wonderful. 
“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 
“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 
But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 
“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.
One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 
The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 
Your entire body sagged with relief. 
So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 
As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 
A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 
You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 
It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 
It could’ve been a crown. 
“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 
You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 
The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 
You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 
Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-
“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 
You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 
And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 
But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 
The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 
At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 
But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 
You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 
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You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 
A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 
But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 
But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 
You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 
But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 
The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 
Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 
You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 
You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 
“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 
But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 
But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 
“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 
None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 
Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 
Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 
“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 
“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 
Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 
Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 
It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 
But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 
It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 
“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 
You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 
“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 
And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 
Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 
Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 
“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 
“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 
San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 
With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 
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Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 
Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 
The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 
Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 
If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 
It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 
He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 
He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 
You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  
Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 
You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 
But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 
It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 
Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 
Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 
But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 
As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 
Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 
You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 
Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 
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By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 
You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 
But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 
But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 
You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 
But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.
In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 
All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 
You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 
Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 
Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 
The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 
You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 
Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 
“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 
Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 
You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 
“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 
Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 
“Thank you too, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 
But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 
But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 
You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 
After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 
“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 
“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 
Your heart cracked again. 
Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 
Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 
“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 
“Just open it, please!” 
With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 
“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 
“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 
You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 
But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 
Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 
“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 
You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 
“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 
“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 
He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 
“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 
“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 
You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 
Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 
Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 
You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 
It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 
“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 
“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 
“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 
Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 
“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.
“Them?”
“Yes, them, now go look!” 
Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 
And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 
Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 
Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 
So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 
And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 
The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 
“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 
It cracked your heart all over again. 
With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 
You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 
How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 
But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 
But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 
You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 
But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 
Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 
But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 
As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 
“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 
You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 
In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 
“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 
You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 
It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 
A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 
The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 
Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 
“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 
Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 
“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 
“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 
But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 
It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 
You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 
But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 
If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 
And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 
There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 
When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 
You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 
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The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 
But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 
“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 
Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 
The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 
But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 
It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 
But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 
An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 
Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 
Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 
“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 
“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 
“Be safe, nae sarang.” 
“I will, Eomma.” 
They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 
It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 
You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 
It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 
But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 
As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 
The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 
You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 
“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 
“I will. You too.” 
Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 
You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 
Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 
But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.
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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜
This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.
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lightningbig · 1 year
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it is not lost on me that bad has been the one lately going around and taking care of the other eggs when it's been late and no one has been on to take care of them. I haven't been watching his streams so I'm not sure what he says about it when he goes, but I can only imagine the stress he has. one of the few single parents on the server, doing everything on his own to take care of dapper, and then taking the incentive to take care of the others as well. because what other option is there? sit there and watch them die? after three of their siblings have?
not on his watch.
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safetypinxtales · 4 months
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Together with you | Azriel
(Lonely with you pt. 2)
summary: heart break sucks. Missing your friend sucks even more. It is mind-blowing what a little open communication can do.
words: 4.1k
warnings: angst with happy ending, terrible communication at parts (sorry), mention of alcohol consumption, fluff, just general misery, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, dumb idiots in love
notes: so this got a lot more angsty than first anticipated, but here it is! Not sure how I feel about it, I like some parts, not so sure about others - feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!
part 1
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Cold. Your bed was freezing cold. And empty. 
Like lying on a frozen slab of stone, utterly alone and undeniably pathetic. Just as alone and pathetic as yesterday, when you woke up on the couch in the living room. No Azriel in sight. Like he wasn’t the one to practically beg you not to leave him alone, and then he went and did that exact thing to you. 
It was humiliating. You were humiliated.
And that was why you had avoided him like he was contagious for all of yesterday, burying yourself in paperwork or hiding away in the library. But your plan was far from foolproof, you’d barely made it through yesterday without seeing him, so today had to be different. If being close to you was so shameful he had to sneak away before you had a chance to wake, you would simply remove yourself from the situation and spare yourself some Gods damned dignity. 
You had already written to Mor, your excuse of needing to get away from the happily mated couple for a few nights only a half lie. You were in desperate need of a good night’s rest, however that was not the most pressing issue at hand. But there was no need for her to know that. Yet. She would find out eventually, she always did, and you would be stupid to expect otherwise. 
Two hours past sunrise should mean that the Valkyrie training would be full and well underway, and thus it would be safe for you to make your escape. You got the things you’d need and made your way up the stairs to one of the smaller balconies overlooking the training ring. You knew you really shouldn’t, because what good would it do? But you had to. Just a quick glance. Quietly you moved towards the railing, scanning the people below. 
There he was, a thing of graceful, terrifying beauty. He seemed to be demonstrating a movement with a training sword for some of the priestesses. He moved with such fluidity, wielding the sword in his hand as if it was an extension of himself. He was like death on swift feet. A fallen angel, a dark prince. 
He was beautiful.
You must have accidentally made a sound, because his head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on you. Oh Gods. The intensity in his gaze, and the increasing pressure in your chest was too much. He didn’t want you. 
You staggered back, one little step and you had winnowed yourself down to the city streets. This was good, you needed to get away. He left you alone. He drew back first. You knew all of this, so why did it hurt such an unreasonable amount?
You rubbed your chest in hopes of getting rid of the tightness that seemed to have moved in there since yesterday morning, and then you set course towards the one stop you had to make before getting to Mor’s. 
-
It had been three days since you arrived at Mor’s apartment with a paper bag filled with the sweetest, sugar-powdered pastries your favourite bakery had to offer. It had taken you both approximately 20 minutes to devour them all, after which you no longer had anything to distract your friend from digging up the truth behind your visit. 
You were in love with someone who did not harbour the same feelings towards you. And you desperately needed to get away from him, to save what remained of your heart. 
You had cried, drank some wine, and then cried a little more. You went back to the bakery for more pastries the next day, and the cycle repeated. 
The crisp, early-spring wind was a menace today as you were on your, now daily, pastry run. You were trying to stop your hair from whipping around like a being possessed, cursing up a storm, when you heard him call your name. 
You froze to the spot, like his voice was some primal command. That insufferable tightness in your chest was as present as ever as you forced yourself to put on your brave face and turned towards him. 
There he was, jogging towards you, his brow furrowed. 
“Hey,” Azriel breathed as he came to a stop in front of you. His shadows swirled out in your direction, but retracted before they had a chance to reach you. 
“Hi,” you mumbled back, suddenly finding the cobbled street very interesting. 
He cleared his throat and took a step closer. You took one backwards. The cobblestone looks different here than in the alley by the bakery. 
“I haven’t seen you in a while… you haven’t been home – at the House, I mean,”  he coughed lightly. I wonder if it was made with, like, a different technique? Or maybe the stones are just differently shaped or something?
“Yeah, no, I’ve been staying with Mor for a bit.” It’s definitely mossier on the smaller streets, maybe that’s why? It just shifts the perspecti–
“Angel, please look at me.” 
You didn’t want to, Gods you didn’t want to. But alas, you seemed to have no power when it came to Azriel. 
Any other day, the worry swimming in those hazel eyes would have melted your heart. Today, it just hurt. “Did I do something? Is that why you… haven’t been around?” 
You scoff, “No, you didn’t do anything, Azriel. It’s fine.”
“It’s obviously not fine! I haven’t seen you in days, and now you can barely look at me?” He exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you uncomfortable – but I miss my friend,” his hands twitched where they rested at his sides, shadows swirling around him with unease.
“Oh, please,” his brows furrowed further at the dry laugh that escaped you, “Are you being serious, Az? I fell asleep in your arms, after you pleaded with me to stay with you – and then I woke up alone.” His face fell. “How do you think that feels? I mean, you must know how I feel about you!” You cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, and that damned burning feeling behind your eyes that you were so sick of.
“What– no, I didn’t– what do you–,” he stuttered. He actually stuttered. The spymaster of the Night court couldn’t even come up with an excuse for being an ass.
“Save it. I get it – you were lonely, we’ve all been there,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have to go.”
You turned back in the direction of Mor’s apartment, pastries be damned. You just had to get away.
Azriel had other plans though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, the cool wisps of shadows snaking up your forearm. You couldn’t help the way you recoiled from his touch, how it seemed to ignite every nerve in your arm. 
“Wait–,”
“NO!” A sob wracked your body. “No, just leave me alone, Az. Can’t you tell that you’re hurting me?” His face twisted in time with your words, and tears pricked your eyes. “Being around you hurts!” 
His shadows were whipping violently around him, but he was as still as death itself.  Something like dread and confusion were clouding his eyes.
He called after you as you walked away. But he didn’t stop you, nor did he try to follow you. And you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, too scared you might run back and give him the rest of your heart, shattered as it may be. No, instead you carried the shards in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to be okay. 
-
The bedroom door creaked open, and you pulled the duvet further over your head.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Mor said in a sing-song voice. You weren’t sleeping.
“I’m not asleep,” you muttered, huffing loudly at the giggle that escaped her.
“Yeah, well, calling you a crybaby would be insensitive so I went for the next best thing.” 
Her comment made the corners of your lips twitch, and you silently cursed her for always knowing how to cheer you up. You had gotten quite comfortable in your misery.
You pulled the covers down and looked over at where she stood. Your chest grew uncomfortably tight when you saw what was in her hands. 
“Another one?” You asked and rolled over to face the window. You had forgotten how stubborn he was. Competitive bastard. 
“Yes, and they just seem to get bigger and bigger. I like the daffodils in this one though, very spring-esque. The other ones didn’t have any daffodils,” she mused as she walked in and headed towards the far end of the room, most likely towards the dresser. It was the only surface area not currently taken up by a bouquet.
This was the sixth bouquet he’d sent. In three days. He had turned Mor’s guest room into a damn flower shop. Just being in a ten feet proximity of this room would have sent Cassian into a sneezing frenzy.
“Remember that time in Elain’s garden, when you told me daffodils were your mom’s favourite flower? That she called you her little daffodil when she carried you in her womb? They are very beautiful – just like you. 
“Yours, Azriel.” Mor read the note before carefully putting it back with the flowers. 
Every set of flowers had come with its own handwritten note. He had apologised in the first one, the rest told you he missed you, recalling memories of moments you’d shared. Each one ended with a heartfelt compliment, one that brought tears to your eyes every time, without fail.
Mor let out a slight sigh. “I am fully on your side here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but… are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but… he’s a good male and he likes you – a lot.” 
She’s right. You figured that out two days ago. But your pride was wounded, and your trust had been betrayed, and it stung. 
However, somewhere along when the initial pain had started to diminish it had slowly but surely gotten replaced by the agony of missing him. Now you didn’t know what part of the pain came from what, you only knew that it hurt. 
But Gods, you really did miss him – more and more by the minute. You missed him in your bones; your best friend, your partner in crime, the male you loved. 
“Alright, you don’t have to say anything. I have to visit Rhysand to go over some work though, and I won’t be home until late tonight, probably. There is food and tea in the kitchen, or you can go down to the pub downstairs and ask them to make you something. Just… make sure to go there earlier in the evening to avoid drunken idiots, okay?” You rolled over to look at your friend, who once again proved herself to be way better than you deserved. You nodded. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.
“Of course, take care of yourself,” she said, that warm smile still intact as she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. 
After dragging out your stay in bed a few more minutes, the thought of a warm cup of tea became too enticing to ignore. Chucking on a thick sweater you dragged your feet out of the bedroom.
Once in the kitchen, you put the kettle on the stove and went in search of some tea. Where was the one Mor made you yesterday? The one that felt like drinking a warm, spiced hug – you needed that one right now. You found it in one of the cupboards just in time for the water to start boiling. So you made your cup of tea, drizzled in a little bit of honey, and walked out to the living room. You had just put your tea down and made your way over to the wall of bookshelves to pick out a new story to escape into when there was a knock on the door.
The way your entire body froze, yet seemed to come alive at the same time, signalled you knew who it was. How your body and soul could possibly know it was Azriel on the other side of that door, you weren’t sure. But alas, as you crossed the living room towards the entryway and tugged the front door open, there he was. 
He looked tired. His eyes seemed uncharacteristically old, his skin dull and the bags under his eyes were undeniable. Despite this he still managed to look as breath-taking as always. 
Those tired eyes met yours, and you swore you felt time stop. He was here. Your Azriel. 
Except he wasn’t yours, was he? A truth that only stung worse when your name fell from his lips. But seeing him here, like this… you could live with never having him, you thought. As long as he was in your life, if only as a friend.
That’s why you breathed out a “hi,”, and opened the door wider, a silent invitation to step inside. His shoulders sagged in relief as he stepped over the threshold.
“Hey,” Azriel whispered on a shaky breath, as you closed the door behind him. You stood in silence for a minute, neither of you apparently knowing what to say.
Azriel was the first to break the silence, “so, uh– did you get the…”. Bouquets is what he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.
“Yeah, yeah I did,” you mumbled, never really meeting his eyes. “Pretty.”
“Yeah? Okay,” you could see him nodding out of the corner of your eye. “Good.”
You raised your gaze to meet his, and your heart clenched. You just wanted things back to the way they were, you wanted your friend back. Because standing here in front of him, not knowing what to say was awful. So you did the only thing you could think of…
“I miss you.” Your voice wavered more than you’d ever care to admit, but there it was – the truth. 
Azriel’s shoulders visibly shuddered at your confession. “Oh, angel,” it was your time to shudder. “I’ve missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry,” his eyes glazed over as he continued, “but please believe me when I say that I did not know – about how you felt. And maybe that makes me stupid, and blind, and oblivious–”
“No,” you interrupted him, “you’re not any of those things, Az.” His deprecating words wounded you so deeply, a heavy sadness filling your chest. 
“I should have known. I never would have– I wouldn’t have been such a coward if I knew.” You swore you heard the remnants of your heart crack. 
“Azzy…” You stepped towards him and reached up to cradle his face in your hands. His own hands flew up to your wrist and you prepared for him to reject your touch. 
Only he didn’t. 
Instead he gently held your hands in place and leaned into your touch in a manner so tender your breath hitched in your throat. His thumbs swiped across the backs of your wrists.
“I’m sorry, I got all up in my head and I–,” you didn’t let him finish.
“It’s okay Azriel, I forgive you.” His posture straightened a little as you continued, “I’m sorry too.” 
You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and before you could even register it happening, Azriel had pulled you into a hug. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he held you against his chest. He was so warm, and comfortable, and safe, and one tear became two, became three. All the while, Azriel held you, wings enveloping you in a cocoon as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. 
After what felt like hours, but was merely just minutes, Azriel dropped his wings from around you and as you felt his arms ease their hold on you, you took half a step back. His hand that had cradled the back of your head now cupped your cheek, the other came to rest on your hip.
You dried your tears, ungracefully wiping snot from your nose, and you once again lifted your head in search of those hazel eyes you had grown so in love with. And as your gazes locked – that’s when you felt it.
Like the snap of a bowstring, dead center in the middle of your chest, that glowing, golden thread locked into place – forever connecting your soul with the male across from you. 
The impact was so intense you staggered back, knocking into the end table behind you. Your hand flew up to your chest, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater as you tried to make sense of what just happened. 
Azriel is your mate.
Does he know? Does he even want you? A thousand thoughts swarmed your head, but they were all overpowered by one: mate. He was your mate. 
Azriel stood, one arm still partially outstretched, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Something like bewilderment filled you to an overwhelming degree, and it took you a moment to realise that the feelings did not belong to you. They were all Azriel, unable to keep his emotions from bleeding across the bond to you. 
“You’re my–,” you stuttered.
“Yes,” he breathed in response.
“I– I’m your–”
“Yes,”
“You knew?” His eyes shuttered at your question.
“Yes,”
You had to sit down. 
You wobbled over to the couch and dropped down. You didn’t even realise he’d followed you until you felt the seat dip beside you. 
He seemed to realise words were not something currently in your possession, and took it upon himself to start to explain.
“You were sleeping, had been for probably an hour at least, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I have–,” he swallowed and his whole body shook as he professed his next words. “I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you. When Rhysand introduced you to everyone and you were trying to sneak glances at all of us, thinking you were being discreet. You weren’t – quite the opposite actually.” You turned your head to look at him. One of those rare smiles decorated his face as he recalled the memory. “I think everyone noticed, but no one said anything. They were all probably as smitten by you as I was. Not only were you so adorable, you were the most divine female I had ever seen. Your eyes shone so brightly, and you radiated such calmness, such security – like every problem that had ever been wasn’t so bad after all. Like everything was always going to be fine, as long as you were around. You looked heavenly. Like an angel.” He whispered the last part and as his eyes met yours you sucked in a breath at the emotion swimming in them. 
Angel. His dedicated pet name for you. What he had been calling you, and only you, since that very first day. Not only were you the only person with that specific pet name – you were the only one of Azriel’s friend to even have a pet name, you realised. Sure, he referred to Rhysand and Cassian as his brothers. But you were his angel. 
“You love me?” You croaked, fresh tears filling your eyes.
“Yes, I do.” You hiccupped, face twisting as your chest filled to the brim with so many emotions you could not possibly name them all. He took your hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze as he continued, “When we were on that couch I was just… watching you. Holding you. Realising how perfectly you fit in my arms, when you moved. You snuggled deeper into my chest, like being close to me was an instinctual need, and then you sighed, and you smiled in your sleep – and I couldn’t breathe,” he took a deep breath, “that’s when the bond snapped.” You wanted to reach out and smooth out that crease between his eyebrows. Instead you just moved closer to him, pressed yourself into his side, and when he looked down at you, you gave it your best at pushing some of that endless love you held for him down that glittering bond. 
A sharp exhale left his parted lips and he gave your still entwined hands another squeeze. When he looked at you his cheeks were tinged with pink, the tips of his ears flushed. 
He loved you. 
He was your mate and he loved you.
“I was so shocked. Why would it snap now and not earlier?” He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Then I started to… doubt myself,” his brows furrowed deeper, “what if you didn’t want me? I didn’t even know if you knew. Knew and… and decided you didn’t want to be with me. The Gods know I don’t deserve you.” 
You couldn’t help the broken whimper that escaped you as you listened to this wonderful male voice how lowly he thought of himself. 
“Don’t say that Azriel,” you croaked, your voice thick from crying. “I love you so much. I look at you and my heart fills to a point where I genuinely think it might burst,” you coughed out an attempt at a laugh. “You are a good male, and I could not imagine a greater honour than the Mother choosing you as my mate.”
A single tear rolled down Azriel’s cheek at your confession. You untangled your hands from his, instead crawling into his lap. This wonderful male, and he was all yours. The love that filled your chest felt so secure, so safe. Like the warmth of the morning sun. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, and early morning bird song. It felt like the beginning of something great. 
You raked your hands through his hair, and as you leaned in to kiss that lone tear away from his jaw, you watched his eyes shutter closed. 
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, your forehead coming to rest against his, “my mate.” 
His hands found your hips and gripped them tightly, and the touch was more than welcomed. If it was up to you to decide, he would never let you go – forever in each other’s embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more, breath hot against your lips. “I shouldn’t have–… please don’t leave me again.”
“Never,” you promised, and then, like waves crashing ashore, you leaned in that last bit and pressed your lips to his. 
His entire body shook beneath you as he reciprocated the kiss, moulding his lips to yours and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly right it felt. Like coming home. And as your lips moved together that glowing thread became a wild, real, physical thing between you. His hands gripped you tighter, like you were his lifeline. Pulling you impossibly closer, as if you were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and your lips parted, letting your tongues meet in the most delicious of ways. 
The kiss was claiming, overpowering and you could not help the whine that escaped you as his fingers dug into your sides. A primal growl rattled deep in his throat, alighting every nerve in your body. 
This.
You wanted to stay right here, just like this, forever. 
-
You didn’t know how long you actually did stay like that – the two of you seemed to, again, be able to defy the concept of time together. But you were now laying on the couch, Azriel’s heart drumming a steady beat in your ear, a warm, overwhelming comfort overtaking your body. 
Slowly, you started to feel yourself drifting off to sleep, and with your head on his chest, his arms around you, the opening and closing of the front door and Mor’s voice that followed, felt so very far away. You almost didn’t apprehend what she said as her voice moved in closer.
“You better not leave her this time,” she ordered, and the rumble of Azriel’s voice, how very safe it made you feel, lulled you deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. 
Your body was impossibly heavy, the words he mumbled into your hair the last thing you registered before sleep claimed you.
“I won't,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “never again.”
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tags: @hnyclover @justdreamstars @historygeekqueen @sharknutz @icey--stars @mel-wcst @alysena2 @lewsnumerounofan
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twirlyleafs · 5 days
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“Gold-digger.” (Pt2) (pt1 here)
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: nothing really, angsty? lol
A/N: oml so many of you asked for a part 2 and I’m just so happy you liked the first part!! thank uuu!!
~~~~
To say that you slept bad was an understatement. The moment Daniel let you in to his and Heidi’s hotel room you had started crying and it took almost half an hour before the couple got a sense of what had happened. They’d been at the dinner, hearing Maxs comments, and after piecing it together with what you were telling them now they began to see the bigger picture. Heidi sat with you on the balcony while Daniel made up the couch, insisting you should share the bed with his girlfriend despite your objection.
You hadn’t been able to sleep that much, and it wasn’t because Daniel’s snoring or Heidi’s tossing and turning. Every time you were about to fall asleep you could hear Maxs voice telling you what a shitty girlfriend you were, or you imagined him complaining to his friends that you used up his money like some sort of gold digger. You knew he didn’t think quite like that, and he definitely wouldn’t do any of those things but the knowledge of how he saw your whole relationship had you spiraling.
When Daniel woke, he was always an early riser, he found you already wide awake and anxious. The Aussie knew by the look on your face that you didn’t want to leave the safety of the hotel room alone and he quickly invited you to breakfast. Said and done, Daniel kissed his sleeping girlfriend goodbye before the two of you trudged out in the hallway. It was still early enough that everything was quiet and empty, the only sound being your yawn and Danny typing on his phone.
“You think they have pancakes?” You asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked. He hummed, looking up from his phone with a small smile.
“I hope so. I need some.”
“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Me too. And I need them to practically be swimming in chocolate sauce and-“ You stopped, both talking and walking, when you saw a door open further down the hallway. Daniel walked a few more steps, glancing between Max stepping out of the room and you with an apologetic pout. He must’ve told Max you were coming. Asshole. You met his gaze and he mouthed a sorry, making you shake your head before carefully looking over at the man standing in the doorway. He offered an unsure smile. Daniel grabbed your arm, giving you no choice but to start walking again. When the two of you reached Max he gave you an encouraging squeeze and patted Max on the shoulder before he disappeared down the hallway. You should’ve known you couldn’t trust Daniel.
“Hey.” Max said softly, making you look up at him. You took note of the dark circles under his eyes and judging by the way his face fell he probably noticed how red yours were.
“Hi.”
“You wanna talk?” Max opened the door a bit wider and with a soft nod you snuck past him into the room. You heard him let out a breath of relief and you found yourself being almost grateful that he seemed to be just as nervous as you were. You sunk down on the edge of the bed, watching as Max sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “How are you feeling?”
You shrugged and pulled your legs up under yourself, casting your gaze down on your fiddling fingers. “Not to good, I guess.” You answered honestly, Max answering with a soft hum, agreeing. Things were quiet for a while before he spoke up.
“Are you still angry?” You would’ve been annoyed at the question if it wasn’t for the genuine sadness in his voice. Instead you shook your head.
“No. Just a bit sad I think.”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad schatje.” His words were almost whispered. You looked up at him through lashes.
“Do you still believe we’re only together because you’re paying me?”
“That was never- that not what I meant.” He practically whined, shaking his head. “I love you.”
“You just don’t think I actually love you? I’m just using you for your money?” Max gave you a defeated look, shaking his head quickly.
“That’s not-“
“It’s exactly what you said Max!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You felt the tears pressing behind your eyes again. “Do you know how much of a bad fucking girlfriend I feel like knowing that’s how you see us? Me?” His eyes widened slightly but he didn’t have time to say anything before you started talking again. “I mean, I would’ve paid for my own food, my own travels- everything! If I just knew you felt like that I wouldn’t have let you spend your money on me but you always insist and you’ve always told me you wanted to-“
“I do want to.” He intervened quickly.
“But you want to for the wrong reasons. You want to because you think you need to, because you think I want you to.” When your eyes met again you could tell Max didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed again, no words coming out as his gaze faltered to the ground. You reached up and quickly wiped a stray tear, sniffing quietly as the silence settled. It felt like forever before you heard Maxs voice again.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t either.” You agreed.
“Let’s just-“ Max sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Let’s just go home, yeah?” When you didn’t answer he leaned forward slightly, trying to get your attention. You slowly raised your gaze to met his, both your eyes portraying to much emotions to process.
“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”
“Yeah, okay. Yeah sure.” He nodded, swallowing harshly. “I’ll- eh, I’ll go down to breakfast and you can order up? If you want to? And then I’ll text you when it’s time to leave for the airport?”
“No, Max.” You shook your head, face contorting in a sad frown. He paused, offering an encouraging nod. He wanted you to tell him what you needed, how to fix this. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. Or at least he thought so. “I think I need to be alone for more than a few hours. Like, I think I should travel alone back home, maybe even back to my parents for a bit. Just to-“
“Wait.” You hated the look of panic mixed with pure hurt that flashed across his face as he sat up a bit straighter. “Wait, no, y/n please.”
“I’m not saying that we’re breaking up Max.” You assured him, watching with a heavy heart as he stood, quickly making his way over to you. The second he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed his hands found yours and you could feel the panic seeping through his fingers.
“I get that I fucked up. I get that. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I didn’t mean it. Liefje please don’t-“
“Max.”
“Please don’t leave me. You know I love you, right?” With every word his voice lost its steadiness and you could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. “I love you so much-“
“Max.” You interrupted him again, pulling your hand from his grasp to reach up and cup his cheek. “I know, alright? I know. I love you too.” His eyes flickered between yours, unconsciously leaning into your palm.
“Don’t leave.”
With a soft breath you leaned in to press a light kiss against his lips before shuffling closer, letting him wrap his arms around your body. When you placed your head against his chest he tightened his grip, terrified of letting go. The two of you sat like that, just holding each other for what felt forever. You thought back on the past twelve hours. The words that had been said, the insecurities that’d bubbled up. You knew Max never meant to hurt you, you knew that even before you entered his hotel room this morning but the conversation you just had cemented it. The man currently holding you tightly against his chest was the love of your life, no doubt about it, but that didn’t change the fact that all you could think about right now was money. His money, your money, how you could ever let him spend even one euro on you ever again. The thought had your insides churning and that’s why you knew you needed time. Time to process and figure this out before you could come back to him.
“How long?” You snapped out of your thoughts at Maxs voice, so quiet and gentle that you barely caught it at first. When you asked what he meant he let out a breath. “How long do you need? How long til you come back?”
“I don’t know Max. But I’ll come back. I promise.”
~~~~
Ten days. For ten days the only contact between you and Max had been an occasional phone call and a few pictures. He sent you updates on Jimmy and Sassy and you answered with pictures of your parent’s dog, Bongo. Other than that he gave you the space you’d asked for, no matter how much it hurt him not to constantly beg you to come home.
During your time at your parent’s house you’d spent your time just being. Going back to your roots. You hadn’t been brought up traveling the world in private jets or expensive boats and despite loving your life with Max it felt nice to just trudge around your parents backyard in your pajamas, throwing sticks for your dog to fetch. Your father was the most logical person in your life, he’d always been the one you’d turn to when you needed advice and this time it was no different. Your parents both loved Max and they were obviously upset when you came home crying, but after a few days spent talking and reasoning with them you finally saw the situation in a different light. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you carefully slipped the keys into the door of your apartment, a deep breath leaving your lips when you stepped inside. You were relived to finally be home and you could almost feel yourself buzzing at the thought of seeing Max again. You spoke his name as you walked through the apartment, frowning slightly at the stillness of it. It took you a few minutes before you finally made it to Maxs office, stopping in the doorway when you saw him. He was in his gaming chair, one knee tucked against his chest and chin resting tiredly against it. The computer was turned off, instead his attention was on the toy in his hand as he bounced it slightly for Sassy to play with. You smiled softly at the sight, feeling your chest swell when you heard Max mumble something to the cat.
“Where’s Jimmy?” Despite your words coming out soft and quiet Max flinched, dropping the toy to the ground as he looked up at you. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly as he took you in, trying to convince himself you were really there.
“You’re home.” He stated and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, nodding.
“I told you I’d come back, right?” Max just shook his head, rising from the chair. In a few quick strides he reached you, immediately wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you tightly against his chest. Without a thought your arms snaked around his waist, feeling your whole body relax completely for the first time since before all this. You didn’t know exactly what it was that had you suddenly feel your throat closing up, the tears pressing behind your eyes as you turned your face even deeper into his shirt, but you knew they were good tears.
“Fuck.” Maxs voice was shaky, you could tell he was on the verge of crying too, and you squeezed him even tighter. “Fuck I missed you.”
“I missed you too Maxie.” You mumbled against his chest, breathing in his scent. You’d known you’d missed him while at your parents, but somehow you hadn’t expected to be quite this emotional reuniting with him. The two of you held each other for a moment, only separating slightly when Sassy pushed her way between your legs, loud noises leaving her small frame. As you leaned away from Max you chuckled down at the furry creature, softly assuring her that you’d missed her too, before your gaze moved up to your boyfriend. You found him already staring down at you, one hand reluctantly leaving your body to reach up and cup your cheek. When you leaned slightly into his palm you noticed him release a breath, finally a small smile making its way to his face. It disappeared too soon for your liking, a light frown taking its place.
“I’m so sorry.” He began, voice serious.
“Max-“ you sighed, but he shook his head and you pressed your lips together, deciding to let him talk. By the look on his face it seemed like he really needed to get this out.
“I realized a few days ago that I never actually apologized. I wanted to call and tell you straightaway but I didn’t want to disturb, I didn’t want to say it over text either but- baby I’m so sorry.” Max spoke slowly, he needed you to really hear him. “I never should’ve said any of that shit and even though I didn’t mean it like you think I did I should’ve realized how it sounded.” He paused for a second, hand slipping from your face to gently hold yours between your bodies. You nodded encouragingly, gently swiping your thumb across his knuckles as he continued. “For me it has always been sort of obvious that the things I have I’ve gotten because of racing. My dad always said that if I wanted something I had to be the best and I guess that just fucked with my head, fucked with the way I see myself and people around me. I’m used to people wanting something from me and somehow I applied that to you too, despite the fact that I’ve actually never felt like that with you. I fell in love with you because you made everything seem so effortless, like you just needed me and nothing else. You’ve never asked me for anything, even if you could and I’d happily give it to you, and I can’t for my life figure out why I would say what I said. I think it was my own insecurities, my fears, that had me place those thoughts on you and I can’t stress enough how fucking sorry I am for that.” He swallowed hard, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he waited for you to answer. Your eyes trailed over his face and you contemplated carefully how to respond before eventually speaking up.
“I know you didn’t mean it like- like I thought in the beginning. I realize that now, after some time. I understand your point of view- or maybe I don’t understand it but I accept it. I know you Max, I know the way your mind works and your insecurities. But you also know me and it really hurt me to know that even the thought of me being with you for your money crossed your mind.” His gaze dropped down to your hands at your words, nodding. He was ashamed, you knew he was, and despite knowing he might deserve it you really didn’t want him to. Not anymore. With a soft breath you pulled your hand from his, reaching up to cup both his cheeks. When Max met your gaze again you offered a small smile, thumbs moving over his skin. “We all let stupid thoughts cloud our minds sometimes, that’s human. I’m not holding it against you as long as you promise me you’ll tell me if you ever actually feel like I’m somehow taking advantage of you. Or your money.”
“I promise.” He nodded quickly and you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. Without another word you reached up on your toes, capturing his lips in a long awaited kiss. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a short and sweet peck the both of you craved more, having been away from each other for way too long. Max deepened the kiss and it didn’t take long until he hoisted you up in his arms, lips instead attacking your neck and shoulder as he mumbled scattered declarations of love against your skin.
Later that evening the two of you laid curled up in bed, legs tangled together and Maxs head placed securely on your chest. As your fingers combed their way through his hair his drew random shapes against your skin, both of you enjoying the sounds of Jimmy and Sassy’s purring from the other side of the bed.
“I’d love you every time.” Max mumbled suddenly, making you pause for a second before continuing your movement.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’d find you no matter what, I’d love you in every timeline and every universe. No matter what any of us were doing I’d find a way to be with you.” His words were almost a bit slurred, the sleepiness thick in his voice, but you heard him loud and clear and it made your heart swell.
“I’d find you too Max. Even if you worked at a gas station.”
~
Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <33 @brod16 @spookystitchery @witchsbitchestime @bingussthirdtoe @itsjustkhaos @tylerstacobell @ironmaiden1313 @bitchreader @sp1rl @marvelfangirl04 @kravitzwhore @darleneslane @amberpanda99
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
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My Name (LN4)
Summary: Y/n and Lando have a painful past together. When they go their separate ways and are left to pick up the pieces, Lando realizes he can no longer hear the woman he loved’s name without feeling deeply ashamed.
Warnings: this is the most angsty thing i ever written. TOXIC!LANDO TO THE MAX, lots of language, insinuations to sex, this is absolutely horrific i am so sorry its very painful and sad NO HAPPY ENDING (word count is a little over 4k)
Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?
Some people had chapters they could never bring themselves to read out loud. Lando’s painfully silent chapter was Y/n. His nights were swallowed whole by the looks on her face when he let her down once more, the moment when she first thought he didn’t care about her in the way she did. Y/n was a recurring nightmare and a sobering remembrance for him.
FIVE YEARS PRIOR
“Lando, I have someone I want you to meet.” Max murmured to him as they glided through the crowd of rich sponsors. His best friend giggled under his breath as the groups separated like a sea, revealing the most beautiful woman.
From the moment he saw her, Lando knew he had to have her, “Please tell me it’s her.”
Max shook his head, his body lighting up as Y/n smiled at him and hugged him tightly. The two turned to the racer, still grinning, “This is Y/n. Friend from London.”
Lando thought she was perfect, down to the teeth peeking behind her upturned lips. His hand extended out for her hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”
”You as well.” Her voice was sultry, soft. Her hand fit right in the palm of his. Her body drawn to him, his to hers. Lando wanted her in his bed yesterday.
Sensing some sort of tension, knowing it was sexual, Max slid from the grasp of Y/n. He clipped his head down as a form of goodbye before leaving the two to turn from strangers to friends, maybe more in store.
The beginning of Lando’s favorite part of his life and the downfall of whoever he was before he met her.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Whether it was because of her overwhelming, albeit attractive, confidence or the fact that she was Max’s friend, Lando didn’t ask Y/n out right away. Instead, he tiptoed around her, so did she, but he only stopped when picturing her when he was touching himself got to be boring. She only stopped when he showed up at her door with flowers, ready for their date.
“I love pink roses.” She smiled, lightly taking the bouquet from his hands and disappearing into her apartment.
He closed the door when he stepped in to follow her. His feet took him to her kitchen, where she leaned over the counter and filled a vase. His eyes bounced around the walls, peeking out into the living room to see heaps and blankets and pillows.
His hands in his pockets, “I hoped you would.”
She thought it was supposed to be a romantic gesture. Lando’s hands were touching the curve of her waist before he finished his sentence, his mouth next to her ear, “I’m glad you do.”
She made the mistake of turning around, part of her would later wonder if that was giving him the wrong idea.
Still, his lips met hers in a heated kiss, his body pushing hers further into the hard granite. She had been attracted to him from the start, gotten to know him over the two months he hadn’t actively tried to pursue her. She really liked him. That was the reasoning which led herself to being wrapped up in sheets with him a half hour later.
They never made it to that first date.
PRESENT
Lando’s eyes burned with all the flashing lights. Even after a race win, the joy could never subside the anxiety he got from all the press.
The first reporter, her name tag reading Clara, beamed at him. It reminded him of Y/n’s perfect teeth.
“Congratulations, Lando, on an incredible race! How are you feeling right now?” She spoke quickly. She pushed her microphone into his face.
His hands gripped the railing in front of him, “Amazing! This feeling will never get old.”
Her face dropped slightly as she glanced behind her, to the cameraman he presumed, “We would love to talk more about your stellar race, but we do want to ask for your thoughts on the allegations surrounding Y/n Y/l/n over hostile workplace behavior.”
His heart squeezed. He wished people knew her. Not the girl he ruined, but the woman he knew she still was deep down, past all the things that happened between them. His cheeks flushed, “Y/n is an amazing person. She has a kind heart. I just hope people can see that.”
He prayed that Clara would drop the subject. Lando would kill to clear Y/n’s name for her, maybe that would makeup for all the pain he caused, but she would never give him the light of day, even for that. People associated him with her and it tore at his insides. There wasn’t a day that went by that the taste of her name in his mouth didn’t feel like a type of betrayal.
Clara’s eyebrows moved up, “So, you think the allegations are false?”
He huffed, “I’m not speaking about the allegations. I’m simply speaking about the woman I knew.”
Whoever she was now, he didn’t know enough to comment.
FOUR YEARS PRIOR
“Oh, fuck, Y/n, that was amazing.” Lando breathed, his chest rising and falling quickly from beside her.
She laughed, “Happy for you.”
His body turned to the side, his head propped up by his arm, “It was nice having you here.”
She was quiet for a moment, trying to decipher what that sentence implied. She thought she knew, she just didn’t want to face it.
Y/n’s hand traced his arm, “It was a good time.”
Lando pulled away from her, slipping from bed and pulling his pants back on. Loud and clear, she thought.
Still, she tried. Pathetically. Her shirt slid over her body as she grumbled, “Do you wanna go get some food?”
From her view of his back, she saw him tense, “Uh, I can’t, Y/n. Sorry. I’m super busy right now.”
She sighed softly, too quiet for him to hear. He turned around, fully dressed now. She stood, shirt and underwear on with no towel to clean herself. Completely rejected. A small piece of her heart chipped away.
She nodded, “Okay, yeah, no problem. I get it.”
He rushed out of the room, “Yeah, thanks! Feel free to let yourself out! I’ve got some errands to run!”
The door slammed shut immediately after. She took a moment in the silence to gather her messy mind. Maybe he was genuinely busy. Maybe he didn’t mean it that way. He said it was nice having her there.
He couldn’t have meant this in a mean way.
Like any girl in love with someone they thought they were too unworthy of having, the excuses began.
ONE MONTH LATER
Deja Vu flooded Y/n’s senses as Lando rolled off her body. The sinking feeling that her time with him was over mixed with the familiarity and it proved to be a horrific experience.
Her hand reached out to grab her pants that had been discarded on the floor when his voice rang out.
“Do you wanna go get food?” He asked, head turning to look at her as if it was the most regular thing.
Her hand stopped just above her jeans, “What?”
Lando sat up from bed, no longer in a rush to throw his clothes on, “Do you want to go get food with me?”
Some place within herself ridiculed her for nodding her head so eagerly. It was beginning to feel like she was trying to earn his love.
His hand around her waist moved to link in her palm and she finally felt like something to him. When he sat across from her at the quiet and secluded diner they found five minutes after leaving his apartment, his eyes bore into hers. He studied her like a thing he loved.
Maybe he finally did.
PRESENT
When Lando closed the door to Max’s apartment, he was met with hushed and frantic whispers. He walked slowly down the hall toward his best friend’s voice, clearly in distress.
“Y/n, I don’t understand that can’t be true. You’re not that person.” He gave, hand clutching his phone.
Lando heard murmurs on the other line before Max was cutting her off, “No, I don’t care how much you’ve changed over the years. I know you and I know you aren’t the person these people are saying you are. You wouldn’t scream at people because they got your coffee order wrong. You wouldn’t fire people over one small mistake. You wouldn’t humiliate others publicly to make some sort of statement. You just aren’t that person.”
More murmurs before Max’s interruption, “No! I know you know ‘this is how you run a business’ is such a bullshit excuse. If this is you, then please let me know where Y/n is because I know for fucks sake this isn’t it.”
The responses on the other line jumped in volume, Lando being able to make out some of the words. Y/n was yelling, truly yelling. Telling Max that he wasn’t a good friend, not supporting her through whatever was being alleged.
Lando’s ears rang. This wasn’t her, he knew that. Everybody knew that. She was a bright spirit, she wasn’t now. She was a hollowed out version of who she used to be and Lando knew he had taken every bit of it. He held what she once was in his hands and this was her trying to move on without it.
He wanted to give it back to her somehow, revive the life she once led, but he was so ashamed to show his face to her. He knew it would only be met with an anger he wouldn’t be able to forget.
He couldn’t hear anymore of her turmoil. Too many memories were being brought to the forefront of his mind. Maybe it was selfish, he had proven to be on many occasions, but he stepped into the room.
“Lando’s here. I have to go.” Max rushed.
The line clipped before he could even get his full sentence out.
Max stared at his phone for a moment, studying the contact picture he hadn’t changed for years. Standing off to the side, Lando could make out Y/n’s smile, her perfect teeth, and lightness in her eyes. It was a living testimony of someone that was no longer there. Someone who had lost themselves in it all. He knew it because he had gone through it. In the midst of Y/n, Lando had lost sight of himself. Part of him wanted to blame his behavior toward her on that, but there was no excuse. He had to live with the knowledge he was capable of causing such psychological damage on someone else. Someone he loved. A personal, endless hell.
Max sighed, “Hey, mate.”
It was quiet, exhausted and Lando knew Max didn’t want to talk about it, but something in him urged to hear, “That was her?”
Max nodded, “Uh, yeah. She’s just trying to fight the allegations right now.”
Lando set the takeout down on the desk, “I assume it’s not going well?”
Something switched in Max, his eyes turned cold, “No, Lando, it’s not going well. And, frankly, I don’t know why you’re even going here with me right now”
Lando put his hands on his hips with his eyebrows furrowed, “Going where with you?”
Max’s fists curled, “I forgave you for the way you treated her, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a sore spot. She’s lashing out at people, ruining her reputation, because you put her through a shit show. I’m not saying this is wholly your fault, but you had such a major fucking role in it and, to be honest, sometimes I can’t fucking look at you without seeing her and everything she has to go through on top of all the shit you did. You don't have the right, in my mind, to ask me about her.”
”I’m not trying to start anything. I still care about her.” Lando said, hands turning upwards as if he was lost.
Max scoffed, “Care about her? Fuck you! Care about her, my ass. You used her for sex, Lando! You took and then you gave, you took and then you gave. Such a twisted cycle that she never even asked for, looked for, deserved. You have no right to sit here and say you care about her. I care about her.”
The two friends had had such a hard time finding a peaceful ground in the moments after Y/n and Lando’s blow up. Max was protective over her. He entrusted Lando with her and Lando had thrown her back in his face like she wasn’t someone to be cherished. Part of him would never forgive Lando for that.
They wondered if that would be the final straw.
Lando breathed out, “I think you need some space. I’ll leave and if you want to talk things out later, call me. I don’t want to push something with you that you don’t want anymore.”
He turned around, prepared to walk out, but Max whispered, “Like you did with Y/n?”
The McLaren Driver spun around, “What?”
Max’s arms crossed in front of his chest, “You heard me.”
The fire in Max’s eyes masked pain, Lando knew that because he had lived it. Max didn’t want to fight him, he wanted this battle to be over. In a moment of growth, Lando set aside the anger in his own head and walked out the door. Hoping for a day where Max could look at him and see something other than the one moment in his life where he ruined something so perfectly his.
TWO YEARS PRIOR
Lando had DNF’d. Max and Y/n watched on as he took his gloves off, forcefully throwing them to the ground in frustration. A worker coaxed him into the car waiting to take him back to the garage, Lando shrugging him off and throwing himself into the backseat.
Andrea’s fist collided with the table he was sitting in front of and Jon ripped his headset off. Lando had been so close to securing a win, but one wrong swerve and he had gone spinning off the track with no opportunity of recovery.
Lando’s return was quick, his body storming through the room and darting up the stairs to privacy. Y/n and Max just glanced at each other, both knowing how he got with these things. Part of her wanted to go up there, hug him and tell him how amazing he was, but she also knew he needed time to be alone. Process things. She just wanted the best for him.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Lan <3
Come up to my room?
She smiled. Lando hadn’t opened up to her that much over the year and a half they had been fooling around, whatever you wanted to call it, but she had always wanted him to. She had tried to ask him about family life, stressors he was dealing with, and he would answer, but it was brief and then his lips were on hers again.
Maybe he had finally come around to letting her in like she had him.
Y/n Y/l/n
Coming xx
When she got to his room, her knuckle hit the door once before it was flying open and he was pulling her in. She laughed as he kissed her, thinking it was meaningless. But, when his hands tried to pull her shirt off, she pulled back.
She cocked her head, “What’re you doing?”
Lando stopped, “Fucking you?”
Her heart dipped down, “What?”
He looked at her like nothing was wrong. Did this mean nothing to him?
”Lando, don’t you wanna talk about what just happened?” She tried, but he just kept playing with the hem of her clothes.
He nodded and her confusion almost subsided. Almost, “Yeah, with some kisses and an orgasm.”
His lips met her neck and a slimy feeling washed over her body. The first time she felt self-hatred in the presence of him. What was she doing?
Y/n pushed him off, “No, I don’t want to have sex right now, Lan.”
His hip popped out and he stared at her, “Why?”
She shrugged, “Because I don’t. That should be enough.”
He looked at her as if he expected sex. Like her rejection was some sort of betrayal. He didn’t just appreciate being with her?
Lando groaned, “Ugh, whatever. Okay. I have to get changed so I can go to the debrief.”
For once, she didn’t try to argue to stay. Something didn’t feel right about his hands on her anymore.
Something wasn’t kind about their situation anymore and it wasn’t the love she knew she had for him.
THREE MONTHS LATER
Y/n Y/l/n
Can I come over? We need to talk.
Lan <3
Sure
She walked into his apartment with hesitation. What she had identified as a comfortable space no longer felt that way. Now, she stood in the foyer as if she didn’t know the layout like the back of her hand.
Lando looked at her expectantly. It mirrored the way he had eyed her that afternoon in his driver’s room. She hated it.
“We need to talk about what we are.”
Lando’s eyes bulged, “Why? There’s nothing to talk about. We both know what we are.”
Y/n shook her head, “Well, I don’t. I thought I did, but I’m starting to think I’ve been a little naive.”
Naive? That was not a word Lando would choose to describe Y/n. Gullible, maybe, but naive? No. She wasn’t that.
He led her to the living room, hand falling around her waist and lips pecking her neck out of habit when they fell onto the couch. She pulled away, “Stop, Lando.”
The softness in her voice, the way it sounded broken down, made him search her face for answers.
He got them when she began speaking, “Lando, for the past year and a half, I have done everything a girlfriend would do. I have cooked for you, run out to complete errands so you weren’t stressed, come to your house at night when you couldn’t sleep, stopped seeing other men because I felt tied to you exclusively, loved you. You have done none of that. I’ve gotten flowers, but that’s rare and I’ve gotten gifts, but it’s been for my birthday and weeks late. I give you everything I have. I give you my time, my energy, my body, my feelings, everything. You’ve given me on and off moments where you treat me with some level of respect, but I have never gotten the amount I deserve. I can’t keep doing this when all I feel like is a random fling.”
Lando stuttered. He knew this was coming. He knew the way he had been treating her, giving her things occasionally so they would hold more value and pulling back when he felt like it, would catch up to him. But, to think she was in love with him and expected the same from him, was not something he was prepared for. He was speechless as he looked at her. What was he supposed to say? She was a fling.
The moment that would haunt him everywhere he went: the small drop in her face when she realized he wasn’t fighting her. The knowledge that what she had felt all along was what she had been.
She deserved more.
She stood from the couch, “Oh my god.”
Lando stood with her, “Y/n, I am so sorry. I-”
She slapped him across the face, “Who do you think you are? Giving me flowers, taking me out to dinner, giving me a taste of what it’s like to be treated with dignity by you just so you could keep stringing me along. You manipulative piece of shit!”
The anger in her eyes mirrored Max’s whenever he got mad. He worried that would be burned into his brain every time he looked his best friend’s way.
Lando grabbed her wrist when she turned around, spinning her back, “Y/n, you have no idea. I didn’t mean for it to be this way. I’ve always wanted you. I want you.”
She pushed him away, “Want me how? Want me for my body? Want me for sex? Want me for some fucking orgasms? Is that what you’ve reduced me to?”
He tried to find the right words. There were none. “I thought we were having fun! I didn’t know you were falling for me.”
She rushed into the kitchen, grabbing her purse while yelling, “What’d you think I was doing sticking around all this time? For the sex? You’re good in bed, but not that fucking good. You’re a sick fuck.”
She reached the door and he stood in front of it, forcing himself to memorize the fury that was slowly fading away to deep sadness, “Y/n, I care about you. I don’t know how I feel about you, but I know it’s more than a fling.”
Lando waited for her reply, but she just smacked his shoulder and began to cry, “Don’t say that! That’s so fucking unfair! I’ve been in love with you for a year and you don’t even have your feelings figured out for me? You’ve been fucking me for almost two years and you have no clue if you hate me or you love me? Grow up!”
Her tears bled through the fabric of her shirt as she stared up at him. The deep color of her eyes was magnified by the glossiness. He loved her eyes. Did that mean he loved her? He was furiously trying to sort out the feelings he knew he had for her in the short amount of time he had. He didn’t want her to leave. Was that cruel?
In his silence, she found everything she needed. Pushing past him, Y/n ripped the door open. Her face turned back to him, a version he didn’t recognize, and she whispered, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Her parting words struck his soul, so raw and real. He knew that was what she wanted him to remember if he chose to block the entire conversation from his mind.
No matter how hard he would try, Lando would come to find he would never be able to forget the blip in his life. Her fast pulse under his fingers when he grabbed her wrist to the way she condemned him, it was all there. Lingering and plotting to remind him of their presence when the syllables of her name were uttered.
Maybe he did love her, he was starting to realize that, but that would never matter now.
”You should be ashamed of yourself.”
PRESENT
Lando moved the oatmeal around in his bowl as he scrolled through his Instagram feed. His TV played some random news station in the background in the living room, one he was half listening to. But, the moment the anchor spoke her name, Lando was dropping his phone and bringing his full attention to the screen.
A picture of her popped up, a headline below and one Lando couldn’t bring himself to read. He was too enthralled with her picture, remembering the times she used to smile at him that way.
”Y/n Y/l/n has officially stepped down from her CEO position at her famous boutique. She and her team released a statement this morning, apologizing for the strain she put on employees and other board members these past two years. She explains in the statement that there is no excuse for her actions, but she is heavily remorseful for them. She promises to work further on herself out of respect for the people she affected, changing her ways. She also briefly mentioned in the statement that she will be paying thousands of dollars to each employee she fired under wrongful termination. Y/n explains that the business has always meant the world to her and it is painful to let it go, put it in the hands of someone else, but she knows this is for the best. She wishes the business and all employees a more positive life after having impacted their’s negatively for so long.”
Lando stood in his living room, hands by his sides, as he read the screenshot posted on the TV. His hands shook and his palms sweat, tears pricking his eyes.
She loved that job.
This was his fault, no matter how much he tried to say her actions were under her control. It hit him fully then and there. Y/n changed him for the better, taught him how to treat someone you love, and he ruined her. He took the perfect girl with the perfect teeth, perfect hair, beautiful smile, and twisted her insides into someone who lived with rage. She never knew rage until him. He introduced it to her.
Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?
A/N: sorry pookies sending all my love after this bc it broke ME idk how yall are doing
TAGS: @jehun
926 notes · View notes
angeadore · 2 months
Text
𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟!
featuring ... lucifer; mammon; leviathan; satan; asmodeus; beelzebub; belphegor.
genre ... smut (18+).
wc ... 3.6k
warnings ... smut (18+); oral (m receiving); face fucking; verbal degradation + praise; slight exhibitionistic + voyeuristic themes; slight corruptive themes; masturbation; foul language; fem!reader; a little bit angsty?; some reactions are more suggestive and not as nsfw as they could have been; some reactions are shorter, some reactions are longer — i got lazy. also, i suck at writing nsfw, so take that as you will.
synopsis ... the demon brothers react to mc catching them after a shower.
authors note ... repost from my previously deleted blog!
now playing ► hands to myself by selena gomez.
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LUCIFER
There was probably a reason that Lucifer wasn’t answering your calls, and his lack of response was probably not an invitation for you to walk into his room unannounced.
But, you had never been the sharpest tool in the shed. Even in the Human Realm you weren’t the best at reading social cues — your lack of street smarts only seemed to get you into twice as much trouble in the Devildom. Of course, the avatar of pride was not the exception to your clueless ways. At some point, you were bound to slip up.
“MC…” Lucifer stood on the opposite side of the room, raven hair wet from his shower and a white towel hanging low — so low — around his hips.
The demon had watched as the door to his room swung open without so much as a knock and then swung shut with the fervor of a madman. He continued to watch as you took in his figure, scanning him from head to toe before you were able to fully process what you were doing. And he watched as your face grew hot with roseate tones. 
Lucifer should be angry; he should be absolutely seething.
He probably would be, too, if it weren’t for the way he could feel his cock twitch with arousal at the way you looked at him, the way your eyes trailed over his every feature with - admiration? Adoration? Fondness? Or was the look in your eye simply desire? Desire to have him, desire to feel him… did you desire him?
“I- Sorry,” you spoke frantically, apologizing to the demon profusely, “I apologize; sincerely. I should have knocked.”
Lucifer looked on you with curiosity swimming in his eyes; how, exactly, could a human stir up emotions — needs — that haven’t been so prevalent for centuries? How curious, indeed…
“There’s no need to apologize, MC.” If anything, he should be the one apologizing. Sinful thoughts of you — oh so sinful; damnable, even — ran rampant through his mind. “What can I help you with; it must be important.”
“No-” your tongue ran along your lips, finding they became quite dry in the time you had been staring at Lucifer, and the demon felt his cock harden further beneath the towel at the motion. “No, it wasn’t so important.”
You were always so sweet, so complacent — reminiscent of the angels you so often wasted your time with. Lucifer had to give it to you: you would have made a better angel than he ever was, though he’ll force you to fall further than he ever did.
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I continued my activities.”
No, you certainly wouldn’t mind, and you would have stated such had your eyes not been trained on the towel that the demon let fall from his waist with little decorum. 
This was not the Lucifer you had come to know — the one with the strict schedules, organized piles of paperwork, and sustained, uptight pride. This Lucifer was one you had yet to fully understand. This Lucifer was the one that was reckless, turbulent — the one that used his pride as his weapon instead of his lawbook. 
This Lucifer was the one who was unabashedly stroking his half-hard cock in front of you, dripping with precum and letting soft groans pass through his lips. This Lucifer was wild, beautiful — completely alluring. 
“Do you enjoy watching me, MC?” The question cut through your needy haze, the sound of his voice — the blatant pleasure he was feeling bleeding into his tone — making your breath catch in your throat and your pussy clench around nothing. “Because I certainly enjoy being watched by you.”
Your eyes follow his hand as he pumps his cock, fist squeezing tighter as he nears the tip. It looks painfully hard now, red and glistening. You couldn’t help but wonder what Lucifer would taste like, how his cock would feel sliding against your tongue. Would he guide your movements or would he let you please him of your own accord? Does he enjoy being teased or would he rather get straight to the point? What does he look like when he cums?
“You look like you want to devour me, MC — watching me like you are.” Lucifer continues his movements as he talks, your name nothing more than a breathy moan. “You should know that it’s a demons nature to give ourselves over to temptation when it’s presented to us; you should know better than to look at me like that.”
“I suppose… if I can’t look, can I touch?” The question rolled off of your tongue before you could care to consider your proposition. 
Lucifer’s movements paused. His pretty MC, the object of his desire, wants to touch him? He swore to keep you happy and protected, as was his job under his lords order — if you want him, you will get him as many times as your fragile body could handle.
“Kneel.” 
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MAMMON
Mammon wasn’t simply the avatar of greed. No, he was the embodiment of greed itself.
Money, of course, was of the most obvious things he was greedy for. The demon believed that nothing was as satisfying as spending a couple hundred-thousand Grimm on whatever his heart desired (Lucifer and Mammon’s outstanding credit card bill would adamantly disagree). 
Though, if he had to choose, Mammon would say that what he was most greedy for was you — albeit dubiously. 
It came as quite a surprise when the demon first realized how truly euphoric you’ve made him feel, whether it be spoiling you or being graciously spoiled by you — it was how he imagined heaven would truly feel had he not been cast out for falling to the temptation of his sin, of his greed.
Mammon wondered if his greed was beginning to rub off on you, if that was the reason you had jumped him immediately after he had gotten out of the shower. Or, perhaps, you had simply been hanging around the avatar of lust too much.
Either way, it was Mammon that you were greedy for.
Your kiss wasn’t as sweet as Mammon was used too, it was lustful — lascivious and obscene. He could taste the sugary sweetness of candied strawberries on your tongue and could feel the way you pressed yourself against him until there was no space left. It was as if you couldn’t get close enough to him, like you wanted to steal his breathe from his lungs, crawl under his skin and become him.
Mammon knew greed; he was greed. Yet, this was the first time he was able to appreciate the intensity of your greed.
“Take this off.” Your fingers were playing with the tied-waist of Mammon’s towel, the offending piece of cloth frustrating you to no end — you wanted it gone, you wanted an unobstructed view of your lovers body and you both knew it. “Wanna see you.”
“Yeah…” his tone was teasing, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, closer until you could feel how hard he is against you, “You wanna touch me too? You want my pleasure to be yours?”
Of course you did.
“Just want you,” your voice was quiet, almost as if the idea of wanting to be with Mammon was embarrassing, when, in fact, it was the complete opposite. You welcomed your want for the demon with open arms, even if he was a bit slower to admit his want for you.
“You have me.”
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LEVIATHAN
Leviathan was insecure and, frankly, you had absolutely no idea why.
The purple haired demon had, in your mind, been a sight to behold since your first meeting. Even after his sin had overtaken him, when he had put you in danger — even then you continued to cherish and adore him. 
In your current situation, you found yourself asking the question for what had to be the thousandth time: why?
Leviathan was beautiful. Everything about him.
His skin, marred with scars — delicate ones that were pale against his already pale complexion and lurid ones that flushed crimson, a reminder of the burns inflicted during the fall. They all told his story; for that, they were beguiling. 
The avatar of envy was all sharp lines and tapered edges — you couldn’t help the way your eyes would glide over his figure whenever he decidedly graced you with his presence.
Yes, he was certainly beautiful — you were having difficulties deciding whether your current situation was a blessing or a curse. Maybe it was both.
It was clear that Leviathan had just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and mused, water droplets staining his skin as they trailed along the lines of his body, down, further — don’t look.
Though, it was difficult not to, proving nearly impossible to avoid taking in all of him when he was right there, standing in the middle of the room, showcasing himself to you. Levi was frozen, flustered at your presence, held hostage in a state of embarrassment just like you.
He was aroused like you were, too — something you noted as you admired his physique with both hands clasped over your mouth in shock.
Leviathans cock was hardened, long and thick with precum beading at the tip under your attentive gaze. You had to wonder if his arousal had anything to do with you or if he had intended to use his time after his shower to get off. You could only hope that you had starred in some of his fantasies. 
You needed to leave. You really needed to leave. You hadn’t intended on walking in on him like this, and the last thing you wanted was to ruin a friendship that took so much time to cultivate by staring at him any longer than you already had.
Levi’s shock bled into bitter confusion: just as quickly as you had walked into his room, you had left with the slam of his door.
The demon wasn’t thrilled that you had walked in on him, that this was how you were made to see him so vulnerable, but he figured it was an opening — a twisted opportunity to have the conversation that so desperately needed to be had.
But you had left, walked out on him without so much as a word. He had been unable to read your expressions, to get some idea of what you thought of him. 
Maybe if Leviathan was better at keeping his envy in check he would have realized that, perhaps, you simply left because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the demon had never been very good at controlling his sin.
Levi couldn’t help but wonder if it was the scars that scared you off. Or, maybe, his body wasn’t what you were looking for — he knows you’ve seen Asmodeus in a state of undress… maybe his brother was more your type. Could it have been his personality? Did you think of him as nothing more than a friend?
Was he really so undesirable? 
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SATAN
You wish you could say that catching him was an accident, that you hadn’t been completely intent on seeing the avatar of wrath in a state of absolute vulnerability. You thought of it as payback — an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, so to speak. Reparations for an accident that lead to Satan walking in on you in quite a vulnerable state. 
But, was that really an accident? No, not if the knowing look in the demon’s eyes after the fact had anything to say about it.
Satan was intelligent, that was something he prided himself on. Nothing around him happened without him wanting it to happen — a fact you must’ve overlooked when deciding that, yes, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to exit the shower without prior announcement would be a good idea.
And, really, if you had thought your plan through just a little more, you would have seen that you were exactly where he wanted you.
“Such a pretty little thing…” The words fell easily from Satan’s tongue, his sentence trailing off as his thumb traced over your bottom lip. He stood in front of you, towel riding low on his hips — too low; dangerously low.
“You’re towel- it’s going to fall.”
The smile that graced Satan’s lips could only be described as sinister — wicked, corrupt, completely vicious; he was looking at you like a predator would look at prey, and you had no reluctance in believing that that was exactly what you were to him. Prey. 
“Wouldn’t you like that,” Satan mocked, “Isn’t that why you’re here? Because you want to pleasure me?”
If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed he was tempting you —  with his body, with his words that were coated in honey. 
“Say the word, pretty one, and I’m yours to use as you please.”
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ASMODEUS
Asmodeus held no shame. It was a fact that you had learned very early on during your time in the Devildom, a fact that became increasingly obvious the more time you spent with him. 
Innocent requests of let me paint your nails and play with my hair had quickly turned into requests of let me kiss you and bathe with me.
You hadn’t yet agreed to those kinds of requests — even the avatar of lust had yet to guide you into falling for temptation. Though, you had to believe that this — this misfortune — would be the inevitable turning point.
“Fuck, baby,” the words fell from Asmo’s mouth as a blissful moan, “your mouth feels so good — better than heaven.”
The demon stood over you, his cock in your mouth and his hands placed over the back of your head, holding you steady as he thrusted against your tongue. 
You gagged around his length, tears gathering in your eyes that only served to push Asmo towards his release. 
The turn of events wasn’t expected. You hadn’t gone to Asmodeus’ room expecting him to be clad in only a towel that hung low on his waist, nor did you expect to find yourself on your knees to service him. But, the towel that lay discarded on the floor made you think that, just maybe, this should have been expected, and the demon that stood in front of you, letting loose the prettiest moans you had ever heard, made you believe that this was simply bound to happen.
“I’m gonna cum,” the demon whined, his hips stuttering as he pushed his cock as far into your mouth as he could. His abdominals flexed and you could feel him twitch in your mouth as he moaned — loudly and without fear of any of his brothers hearing. 
When Asmodeus finally came, his release spilling down your throat, you swore you could never get enough of him. When he pulled away from you, admiring the string of saliva that connected your lips to his cock, and you could see the way his cock began to harden once again, was when you realized how truly shameless the avatar of lust was.
“Next time…” Asmo breathed out, “next time you should just bathe with me. But, right now, I just want to taste you.”
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BEELZEBUB
You had two options to choose from when venturing to pull a reaction from Beelzebub: eating his food or withholding his food from him. Neither of those options produced a reaction that was particularly favorable (unless you’re into being literally eaten — Beel loved you, but he loved food just a smidge more).
You were convinced you would never be able to get a favorable reaction from him — a reaction that ended with you on your back and the avatar of gluttony between your thighs. Weeks of teasing, of dropping not-so-subtle hints of what you were after yielded no results. None whatsoever and you were beginning to wonder if he was attracted to you in even the slightest.
Though, your current predicament successfully cut off that train of thought.
You were going to have to talk to him, that much was for certain. You had intended on doing so; you swear to heaven and earththat’s all you went to his room to do.
It wasn’t your fault that Beelzebub had grown into the habit of leaving the door open when he showered, really. It wasn’t Beel’s fault either — it was his room and Belphegor never spent any time in there anyway. 
It also wasn’t your fault that you could feel your heartbeat speed up at the realization that your lover was less than 15 feet away from you and naked. Nor was it your fault that the demon was audibly pleasuring himself to the thought of you, your name falling from his lips as he pumped his cock in the steaming shower.
You moved to sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing your thighs together for just a bit of relief. The pressure of your thighs pushed together didn’t help much, but you hadn’t exactly expected it to — at this point, you were almost certain the only way you were going to be able to satisfy yourself was with Beel’s help.
‘His fingers would do,’ you thought, your eyes closed as you imagined the way his fingers would fill you up, how they would brush up against that one spot inside you — the one that makes all your muscles tense and pleasured moans spill from your lips. You wondered if he would use his tongue on you, if he would enjoy the way you taste, if he would hold your hips down and savor everything you had to give him.
You wondered if Beelzebub was the type to leaving you marked and aching, completely satiated, yet wanting more.
“What are you doing?”
Your eyes shot open, your gaze landing on Beelzebub, who was dripping wet and holding a towel loosely around his waist.
You hadn’t heard the shower stop, nor had you realized your hand had made its way between your thighs, rubbing at your clit through the thin material of your panties under your skirt.
You couldn’t quite tell what Beel was thinking. He didn’t sound angry or disgusted; maybe a little annoyed? Though you couldn’t understand why he would be annoyed, of all things. You could understand being uncomfortable, angry, even irritated, but annoyed? It didn’t make sense.
You stood, making your way towards Beelzebub, feeling the way his eyes stayed glued on your figure, embarrassment making your body heat up.
“I didn't’- I was just- You were- Beel?” Whatever stuttered out thought you were going to try to make sense of was stopped when the demon began moving closer to you, your own body moving backwards until your legs hit the bed, forcing you to sit down in order to put some sort of space between you and your lover.
His presence was looming and you would have been scared had you not known him as well as you did.  
“Why were you touching yourself,” yes, he was annoyed, “when I’m right here — when I should be the only one touching you?”
“I don’t-”
“You should be punished — for not letting me take care of you, for not coming to me first,” Beelzebub’s words were quiet, low as he spoke to you, “I’m going to pleasure you until you learn your lesson, until I’ve had my fill; and then I’m going to keep pleasuring you anyway, because you’ve kept yourself from me for so long — too long — and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
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BELPHEGOR
“You’re such a dumb fucking slut, you know that?”
Belphegor was behind you, pushing your head into the pillows as his cock slammed as deep into you as possible, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust. You could feel the way his cock bulged in your belly while he was in you, and indulged in the way the tip brushed against your spongey walls — it was euphoric in every sense of the word.
“You liked walking in on me after my shower? Hmm?” The demon was taunting you, trying to rile you up as he provided you and himself with much needed relief. “Can feel you clenching around me — you’re practically sucking me in, little slut.”
“Please, Belphie,” you whined, tears welling in your eyes at the feeling of him inside of you, wanting more than you already had of him, “please!”
Belphegor rolled his eyes — you were always so needy. You disturb his sleep, you invade his privacy, you tell him what to do and when to do it all because you want him to fill your cunt, to make you feel good. He was done with you controlling how he fucked you, how he loved you  — if you wanted him, you’d have to take whatever he decides to give you.
“Wish you could just be a good girl for me, be the good girl everybody already thinks you are.” Belphegor’s words were breathy, unable to catch a breath as he fucked into you. “Why can’t you be a good girl?”
“I am!” It was a cry, a plea that fell from your lips. You were a good girl, you swore you were. “I am a good girl — promise!”
“If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t have invaded my privacy, would have knocked on the door instead of just walking in. You wanted to see my cock, wanted me to fill you up instead of waiting like a good girl would. No, you’re not a good girl — you’re my dirty, needy little slut,” the demon leaned down, his lips pressed against your ear, “You need to be taught a lesson, you stupid, impatient human.”
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© angeadore, 2024, all rights reserved.
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catboymoments · 4 months
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I was scrolling back through your tumblr and I know that in nextgen Luz was initially made pretty sick by her pregnancy. I'm curious- how did the hexsquad deal with that? Luz has saved them so many times, and she's usually super positive, so I think seeing her in pain would be really awful (even beyond the way that seeing your friends in pain is awful). I think Amity in particular would see herself as responsible for it.
Love your art btw!! Sorry if this is like. unnecessarily angsty.
ITS OKAY this ask actually made me get silly and uhhhh this happened and it got outta hand but. Oh my god this would’ve been so scary for them… I love them. They love each other so much. Luz and Amity have wanted this baby for so long and when it finally happens, turns out modern day humans have a hard time providing half witch children with the magical energy they need if the human parent carries… so that baby is gonna start draining energy from anywhere else they can.
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(Luckily, there’s a freshly eighteen year old Titan who loves his sister enough to give her any amount of his blood to help.)
I wanted to do more with like lil bronnie and hyacinth but I had to hold back for the sake of my hands LOL
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goingmerryfics · 1 month
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Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk
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Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.
Shanks
Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between
Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion
Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him
“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”
Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained
The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing
Especially when it comes to keeping you safe
Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm
While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned
Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain
He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk
But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue
You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you
He doesn’t touch you
It’s painfully silent for a while
Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension
“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”
You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours
He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it
He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe
“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
You do
You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms
Buggy
Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here
Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it
Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through
But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another
Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating
Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though
Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life
Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though
He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal
“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”
He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose
He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin
He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago
As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious
He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again
It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again
“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”
You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place
“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”
He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose
He looks like a damn mess
It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you
he pouts up at you and you cave
He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long
Mihawk
If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it
Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you
Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes
He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?
But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is
Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt
Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book
This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away
“Darling, we need to talk right away.”
Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night
The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone
So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge
Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning
But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability
He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does
And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are
If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.
“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”
It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place
You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence
He can work with that
He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small
He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect
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h4ndwr1tten · 4 months
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HI omg this has been eating away at me,, could i request an angsty (but with a happy ending) fic where the reader has been in love with kento ever since they were classmates at juju high and she always flirts with him but he rejects her every time up until the present day at shibuya where she saves his life by using a technique that gives him her life force and allows him to regenerate ig or take the blow of the hit and that leaves her on the brink kf death and kento realizes how much he's actually been in love with her the whole time and somehow she survives and he literally g r o v e l s and confesses and UGH this is too long i'm sorry but feel free to change some details to your convenience, TYSMM 🫶🫶🫶
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.
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characters — nanami kento x reader
note — i'm genuinely sorry i dont post requests on time :( anyways i didn't know how to end it so if i have time to i might rewrite it? i'm just trying to get this out bc i feel bad for leaving anon hanging.. (CORNY AHH TITLE)
cw — anxiousness, unrequited love (or so it seems) in the first half, violence kinda?, reader gets hurt and ends up in the hospital, kissing on the hand, confession ish, shitty ending might rewrite, not proofread. lmk if i missed any.
synopsis — you've gone through years and years confessing your feelings to kento, but this mission might be the scariest thing you've gone through. even for kento.
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goosebumps covered your skin as worry churns in your stomach. on every other mission, you had felt worry and fear regarding the mission, but it was a normal thing that almost every other sorcerer experienced. those feelings, however, weren't the nagging, unrelenting ones you were feeling right now.
no, this was a gut feeling. of what, you couldn't decide. you knew it was a gut feeling because of the way it couldn't be diminished through encouragement and reassurance, and the way it came crawling back to you every time you were able to get your mind off of it. despite knowing you weren't going to be alone in this mission, you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and fearful for not just yourself, but everyone involved as well.
especially kento.
kento was going on this mission, alongside a few other sorcerers, and the thought of going into this with you provided some solace for your troubles. you felt safe with him, you always have.
ever since your high school days as a student at jujutsu high, you've always been drawn to kento. he was one first friends there, and despite not being exactly best friends, you always cherished his company.
that is until a year later, you began seeing him in a different light, one that was more romantic than platonic. you started noticing the little details that made kento, kento. how he liked to keep his blond hair swept to his right. how he would subconsciously hum to himself when he was focused on something. how he always made room for something sweet after dinner. you began to crave his presence more than you usually did. you started seeking him out in classes and in crowds. you tried your best to impress him, whether it be working hard in class, giving your all during practice, or fighting hard on a mission. you even began flirting with him, starting off subtle before becoming more obvious. you did everything you could think of just so he could see you the way you saw him.
you remember the first time he rejected you. you remember how at first, you were in denial because you really thought you had a chance. you cried to shoko about it, and somehow satoru and suguru as well (they were eavesdropping and jumped into the conversation). then you cried more by yourself, eventually falling into a deep slumber after exhausting yourself.
~~~
"hi ken!" you greeted your friend, a little more eager than usual.
you were up last night, convincing yourself that it was time to confess your feelings and that he would feel the same, or at least give you a chance. you had been keeping your feelings to yourself for a little over a month now, and you felt like you couldn't wait any longer.
now here you were, standing in front of the teen you had a massive crush on, who was sitting on a bench under a tree, with a book in his hand and his favorite sandwich lying on the space next to him.
kento sent you a small smile in acknowledgement, before slightly scooting to the side as if to make room for you.
you blushed at the gesture then took a seat on the bench, watching kento as he flipped a page in his book.
"what're you reading?" you ask. to be honest, you weren't really interested in his book. you just wanted to start a conversation before confessing your feelings for him.
"a biography," he answered briefly.
"about who?"
"some warrior."
then, setting the book down, kento turned to you with a curious look on his face. "did you need something, y/n?"
his amber eyes found yours and a sudden wave of nerves came over you. where had your determination and confidence gone? your heart probably grabbed them both and chucked it out of your body and across the nation. then its beating increased, as if taunting you for being so confident.
"um," you started slowly, breaking the eye contact and looking down at your lap. "i... you..."
"take your time," kento hummed. was it obvious how anxious you became, or was he just that good at reading people?
you began fidgeting with the hem of your skirt while trying to find the right words. a simple 'i like you' wouldn't suffice, because what you felt seemed stronger than just a 'like'. this was so much easier in your head. with a deep breath to prepare you and shifting your gaze back to him, you finally spoke.
"nanamikentoihavefeelingsforyou."
"huh?"
"i have... feelings for you," you spoke more slowly this time.
his brow quirked up, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off.
"i like you."
so much for not saying 'i like you'.
"oh."
oh? what oh? was that a good oh or a bad oh? you thought to yourself. kento grew silent and looked down at the grass, and his silence worsened your nerves. you were squeezing the end bit of your skirt now, while your mind was playing every other scenario you could have been in right now.
"kento?" his name leaving your mouth in a barely there whisper.
he turned back to you with pink cheeks and ears. you would've thought he was flattered if it wasn't for what he said next.
"i'm sorry, y/n. if you mean romantic feelings, and you like me in that sense, i don't feel the same way."
the whole world stopped. the distant chatter and bird calls faded into silence. the rise and fall of your chest paused as you felt yourself stop breathing. your cramped fingers finally stilled a against your skirt. your head kept replaying those words again and again, and your shattered heart dropped to your stomach, bringing a sick feeling with it.
"oh," you whispered. "i see."
you couldn't bare to be in this area anymore, or anywhere near kento. you were so sure that he'd at least want to see where things go with you. had you become so delusional and forgotten to think that being rejected was the other half of all possible outcomes?
a gentle hand then laid on your shoulder, while a face came into your peripherals. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, knowing it would only bring you more shame.
"but we can still remain friends. it won't be awkward, to me at least," kento suggested politely and, what he might've thought, comfortingly.
but it only worsened your humiliation. he just had to use that term, that wretched word. as if his rejection wasn't enough, he really thought it was a good idea to say the damned f-word after confessing he didn't feel the same.
you knew kento only had good intentions in mind when he said it, and you understood that he never meant to hurt you with his words. but that simple sentence made it clear to you that that was all he saw you as.
a friend.
you could feel your throat closing up, your nose burning, and your eyes beginning to prick. kento already felt bad, it was clear, and you didn't want to make him feel worse. so you decided that it was time to leave, and maybe never leave your bed again.
"okay, well," you sniffed, wiping a stray tear and standing up, "thank you for being honest and telling me how you feel."
upon seeing your crestfallen face, kento frowned. "y/n, i'm sorry—"
"no, don't apologize. i understand," you smiled sadly.
after mumbling a broken and half-hearted 'have a wonderful evening', you left the bench under the tree and cried the rest of the day.
~~~
despite being rejected and so, so hurt, you quickly came to realize that your feelings weren't fading any time soon. they continued to linger, like someone who couldn't take a hint and conversing with another who just wanted to get through the day. you yourself got the hint, the message—kento didn't reciprocate your feelings. but your heart didn't quite get the memo, as it refused to let go of the man.
over time, your feelings grew stronger and so did the urge to confess once again. so you confessed, and once again, you were rejected. this time, however, you cried a little less. moved on a little quicker. and you tried again.
this grew into a cycle, an unhealthy one, for the rest of your high school years. it was predictable and pathetic, but with feelings for kento as strong as yours? you were determined to get him to see you as more than just his good friend, hell, to even go out on at least one date.
and now, present times, nothing had changed. you were still in love with nanami kento and he... well, he was still not in love. you were still confessing and he was still rejecting. you might've seemed desperate, but your feelings never went away and kento never ended his friendship with you, so it had to mean something. right?
right now, however, your feelings were the least of your worries. your brows were furrowed, your bottom lip was tucked in between your teeth, and you were wringing your wrists over and over. despite going on this mission with the man you trusted above all, you felt that things wouldn't turn out the way they should.
"are you alright, y/n?" kento quietly asked you, having noticed your silence and body language.
"hm? oh, yeah. i'm just," you paused, then whispered, "scared."
you felt kento's hand gently lay on your shoulder, feeling his eyes on your own as he spoke, "it's going to be okay. i'll be there with you the entire time, and i will do my best to keep you safe and unharmed."
smiling up at him, you nodded and thanked him. he nodded once back, then led you two out the door and onto the mission.
you could barely function at this point. your vision was clouded with dark fuzzy spots, you could barely move your sore and numb limbs, your ears were ringing as though an alarm were blaring in them. your head was throbbing as blood trickled down your face from the gash above your brow, and your heart was racing faster than it ever had before.
the mission had gone horribly wrong; the curse was far more dangerous and powerful than expected. it could birth weaker clones that were still enough to cause damage, and the only way to stop the multiplication was to eliminate the main curse.
which had set its dark, blood lusted eyes on you for the past half hour. and in that time, you felt your life flashing before your eyes. you didn't know where kento had gone—the last you saw of him was taking on an army of the multiples.
your delayed movements weren't helping much. all your energy had been depleted whilst trying to fight survive the curse, making it almost impossible to use your cursed technique. if you thought fighting was exhausting, then trying to stay conscious felt much worse.
as you tried (and failed) to focus on executing technique, the curse came out of nowhere and violently hurled you into a nearby destroyed building. you broke through the remains of a wall, the only thing breaking your fall being a mound of ash and dust. chunks of the wall surrounded you, while a larger portion lay on the rest of your body below your shoulders. .
"y/n!"
despite the ringing and your heart thrumming in your ears, you could hear his distant yell for you. he must have finally gotten rid of the multiples when the main was focused on you, or held them off long enough to find you. whatever he did, though, you couldn't focus on right now. all you could really think of was the excruciating pain and fear you were experiencing.
the impact from you hitting the wall had knocked the wind out of you and the wall fragment on your chest made things even worse. your lungs felt tight on the inside, while they were being crushed on the outside. you could barely get in any air, the most you could take in being a mere gasp. you were beginning to panic now. were you going to die? is this how you were going out, because you were unable to defeat a curse? where was kento?
you didn't realize it but tears had begun to fall from your eyes. a reaction caused by the emotions and physical pain you were overwhelmed with. you were scared, so fucking terrified to meet your inevitable end.
what you also didn't know was that kento was fighting his ass off trying to murder the curse. it felt a bit easier because of all the anger he was feeling towards the creature for absolutely wrecking you. all rationality left his body the moment he saw you be carelessly thrown like a rag doll, and now he found himself brutally attacking the curse with no remorse. even satoru was shocked at his behavior, as he thought this curse would need more than one person to defeat it.
it took a few minutes longer, but kento had defeated the curse. he had sliced up the lower body and saved the stupid, ugly head for last, cutting it in half through the eyes and another half through the side. and in exactly 5 seconds, the curse had let out a final whine before it's dismembered body and quartered head disintegrated into pools of foul-smelling acid, but kento could care less about it.
he sprinted to where you were laying, not caring that satoru was calling after him, not caring that civilians were hurt or scared. you were the only thing on his mind and his body burned with the sickening fear that you were—
no, he couldn't bare to think of it. you were strong, persistent, determined. you didn't give up that easily, he would know. kento knew you would put up a fight, and a good one at that, before you'd let death win over and welcome you. but the question was, how long did until that fight was over?
luckily enough, kento could see your dust-covered body underneath the rubble. your skin was losing its color quickly and he could see you trembling, hear you crying fearfully and painfully calling for help. he rushed to your side, immediately but gently lifting the broken debris off your frail body.
"k-kento," you wheezed, tears pouring out of your eyes and leaving trails through the dust. "i can't—i can't b-breathe, it.. hurts."
kento's hands were shaking violently, panic settling in and his mind wondering darker thoughts. with one hand, he gently cupped your face and looked into your glossy eyes.
"it's okay, y/n. everything will be okay, i'm going to get you out of here, and we'll get you help, i promise. just stay calm for me, okay?"
his reassurance was enough to quell the some of the anxiety gnawing at your insides. despite trembling badly, kento hastily continued to uncover your body from the wall. the larger piece took more effort, and though his hands were burning an angry red, kento continued to lift and push, then threw it somewhere away from you.
kento felt sick at the sight of your battered frame. your natural skin color was barely visible as bruises covered almost the entirety of your body. cuts and gashes so deep they would scar marked your torso, and blood was seeping out through them. he was a strong man who'd seen enough gore to make even the coldest people faint, but seeing you in this condition made his eyes sting and burn.
"kento," you sobbed, the pain becoming too much to bear.
not wasting anymore time, kento gently scooped you into his arms, but despite his best efforts, the winces and cries you let out let him know that even the slightest touch hurt like hell. he began to speed walk to satoru, yelling out for the man while trying not to bounce you too much.
his heart was racing faster than it ever had before. a kind of fear he had never felt was consuming him, tightening around his entire body and squeezing his lungs. he could barely breathe, barely think properly.
meanwhile, you could slowly feel yourself begin to drift out of consciousness. was this death opening its gates to you? welcoming you in the worst way possible, having the life leave your body in the arms of the man you were in love with? everything began to feel numb. you weren't crying anymore. you were feeling a little sleepy.
"y/n, don't you dare close your eyes!"
kento's loud and firm voice abruptly knocked some consciousness into you, keeping you awake for a little longer. he gave you a gentle squeeze on your arm, a whine escaping you at the ache.
"i'm so sorry, i don't want to hurt you. we're going to get you help, alright? satoru!"
you couldn't process what happened after that, as the ringing in your ears returned. your vision became fuzzy, but the last thing you remember was a mess of snowy hair, teary hazel eyes, and the world around you spinning.
you fell asleep.
the sound of steady beeps sounded throughout the area you were in. consciousness slowly making its way back into your body.
you were tired, so exhausted. you just wanted to sleep for a month, but as memories began to flood your mind, the desire to sleep seemed harder to achieve.
the last thing you recall happening was kento pulling you out of the remains of a building, carrying you bridal style away from where you had laid, and satoru placing a hand on both you and kento. anything after that, you had no recollection of.
the incessant beep coming from your left prompted you to open your eyes. you squinted right away, your pupils slowly adjusting to the change of brightness. above you were fluorescent lights and around you were clean, white walls. the room had little to no decoration or color and it felt sterile. physical feeling had come back to you, and you felt your body wrapped in thin sheets, laid on a firm mattress. tubes ran up and down your arms and you could feel them underneath the gown you found yourself in.
you hadn't taken too long to figure out that you were in a hospital room. what you didn't realize right away was the blond man sitting next to your bed, his head buried in one arm and the other holding your hand. he wasn't in his usual blue dress shirt and slacks. instead, he was in a plain black tee and sweats. you figured he must have changed during the time you were unconscious, which you still had yet to find out.
your mind was running slower than ever today, because it had just clicked that nanami kento was holding your hand. he was the last person you saw when you passed out and the first person you see when you awoke. had kento been here by your side the entire time?
wanting to see more of him, you shifted your weight onto your elbows, trying to prop yourself up and painfully failing. sharp stabbing-like sensation ran through your right shoulder, a burning one across your left arm, and your back felt stiff and extremely sore.
a loud wince involuntarily escaped your lips, tears rushing to your eyes at the overwhelming aches. immediately, kento woke and snapped his head, looking confused for a second, then realizing what was happening next.
"heyheyhey, y/n, don't move too much. you're still recovering, so just lie down, alright?"
he had stood from his seat and helped slowly lower your body back into the bed. he held you so firmly yet so gently as if not to hurt you or you'd break. he then pulled the thin sheets over your lap to keep you warm, then adjusted the bed so that you were slightly sitting up with support.
then, carefully cupping your face, he wiped a stray tear with his thumb, then lightly stroked across your cheek. his eyes were so full of concern as he scanned your entire face, as if making sure you were really here. the emotion radiating off of him and the way he held you with such delicacy made you feel so safe and cared for.
"how are you feeling?" kento whispered, brows slightly furrowed.
"it hurts," you whispered in response. a frown crossed kento's face and he genuinely looked so broken to know you were in great pain.
"i'm so, so sorry, y/n," kento apologized, breaking eye contact and bowing his head, almost shamefully. "i should have been there, by your side. i should've just let gojo take care of the clones, hell, the actual curse itself. i should have been there—"
"kento," you cut him off. you couldn't handle hearing him blame himself for your near-death experience. he couldn't have saved you while defending himself, and if there was a choice to be made, you would've rather he lived.
"please... don't think this was your fault," you requested, voice raspy from not talking and the incident. "it was not your fault the curse decided to come after me. it was not your fault i wasn't strong enough to fight it alone—"
"but that's the thing, y/n," kento argued. "you couldn't have taken that thing on alone. i should have been there to aid you and help take it down."
in an attempt to lighten the mood, you exhaled a laugh through your nose and joked, "what, you don't think i'm strong enough to fight a special-grade?"
kento gave you a pointed look, unamused at your quip. you smiled apologetically back before looking away from him, any trace of humor leaving your face.
"it's not that i don't think you're strong enough," he sighed. "i feel like i let you down."
"i should have stayed by your side. i shouldn't have let us get separated, i should have followed you, but i didn't. and now, look where we are."
he gestures to your frail figure, gently holding your arm and avoiding your eyes out of shame. boldly, you reached for his hand held it in both of yours, the action bringing his eyes to your own.
"kento, this wasn't your fault. i mean it. don't say anything of it again, or i'll purposely get your orders wrong when i'm bringing lunch. you were trying to save yourself, as was i. maybe i could have used some help, but that only means i need to improve my technique and combat. which also means, you could help me with that. maybe i could have died, but i'm here now, aren't i?" you rambled, not bothering to stop when kento opened his mouth to rebut. "let's not dwell on what's already happened and move forward, please?"
he fell silent, pressing his lips together in a thin line. it seemed as though there was more he wanted to say, and you knew there was, but this conversation would never end—he wouldn't be relieved of his guilt.
a sigh passed through kento's lips, more pigmented after pressing them together tightly. he nodded and as he rubbed gentle circles onto the top of your hand, he whispered an agreement.
you smiled at him, squeezing his hand to reassure him. kento kept wordless for another minute, head hung low and eyes shut. it was visible to anyone that his guilt was swallowing him whole, but he was fighting it for you. he covered your hand with his other, both hands now encasing your own. taking you by surprise, kento brought your hand up to his lips and placed the gentlest lingering kiss atop the skin. his lips, so soft and so warm, left a light buzz on the spot they laid on, and one throughout your body.
"when everything gets cleared up—your health, the reports—i'm taking you out."
what?
"seeing you hurt and in this state made me come to my senses. it confirmed something i had held back for so long, and made me realize that i can't wait."
"kento... what are you saying?" you mumbled slowly, confusion evident in every word.
he sighs, treading carefully. it's clear he's figuring out the right words to say, how to express how he's feeling.
"i'm saying that... in our line of work, developing close bonds with people can be dangerous. we can never be too sure, we can never be too close to someone because in the blink of an eye, it might be gone. what we do is dangerous. but, i think that not taking a chance is even more dangerous."
he sighs shakily, "and i am guilty of not realizing this sooner. but fate seems to be on my side, because even if i don't take them, chances keep coming back to me. and i think now, i'm ready to take it."
kento kisses your hand and brings his eyes to yours, finally declaring,
"i'm ready to take this chance with you."
and you smile, nodding as fireworks go off throughout your being.
after all these years, he finally likes you back.
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note — sorry for the corny ending, i just needed to get the request done 😭 and sincerest apologized to the anon who requested, i really have no excuse other than writers block and busy schedules :(
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harryslittlefreakk · 4 months
Text
we could hide away
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(late night talking part 4)
Summary: when a photo of you and harry is leaked, your relationship suffers. can you manage to mend it despite hurt and miscommunication?
Warnings: pure angsty, fluffy goodness, smut (f and m receiving)
A/n: thank you as always for everyone’s support on the previous parts 😭🫶🏼 it means the world to me , especially for the very idea that inspired me to start writing again! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from our babies, any requests etc in general. i don’t know how much i like this part, my head is sooo fuzzy but i wanted to get it out, so edits may be made in the next few days !!
part one
part two
part three
my masterlist can be found here!
The first thing you heard the next morning was the incessant buzzing of a phone. Notification after notification, call after call. You woke up groggy after passing out in Harry’s arms, still fully clothed on top of the duvet. A headache hit you instantly, a cruel reminder of your perfect night. Harry woke up as you peeled yourself out of his hold, stretching your arms above your head before padding over to the kitchen for some water. His eyes were glazed over, still half asleep as he reached over to shut his phone off.
Harry scrolled through the notifications silently, eyes wide as he clicked on screenshots and messages. You placed a glass of water on his nightstand, crawling back on the bed beside him and wrapping an arm around him from behind. He placed a strong hand over yours, fiddling with the giant S ring you were still wearing. “Fuck, I’m sorry baby, gotta take this,” he mumbled, voice raspy and dry, as he slid off the bed and strode out to the balcony, phone to his ear immediately.
You watched as he shut the door behind himself, placing his phone on the table as he paced around the small space, hands dragging through his messy hair. Your phone was tucked under your pillow, completely drained of battery since you hadn’t managed to charge it. You leaned over to plug it in, eyes still fixed on Harry. Whatever he was talking about, whoever he was talking to, it seemed heated. He was fiddling with anything he could find, jaw tensing up as he breathed in and out. “We can talk about this later,” he said, slamming the sliding door behind him as he re-entered the room. He marched immediately into the bathroom, banging and crashing as he went. You walked over to find him slumped over the sink, cold water dripping off the end of his nose and the point of his chin.
You had no idea how to act. You didn’t know whether to comfort him, stay out of his way, share his anger. Whatever this was, was it even any of your business? It was in your nature to comfort, however, so you walked over and placed a gentle hand on his back. “Hey,” you said softly, pushing his hair out of his face with your free hand. “What’s happened?” Harry turned around and gave you a small smile, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show you. You were totally blindsided, your mouth falling open. It was a couple of grainy pictures, Harry and you in the hotel hallway yesterday morning. You in just his robe and some socks, walking down the hallway with his hand pressed against your lower back. You walking into the room, your hands laced together. The photos were captioned:
exclusive: harry styles pictured with a mystery woman in london
He scrolled to the next screenshot, the same pictures, now captioned:
who is harry styles’ rumoured girlfriend? we’ve narrowed it down!
He continued scrolling, showing you at least 25 posts and news articles about the pictures. They were taken from behind, so it wasn’t even obvious it was him, let alone you. Even still, your perfect, private little bubble had burst. “Harry I- I didn’t even know someone was there, how did this happen?” you looked into his eyes as you spoke, searching for some kind of answer or clue as to how he felt. Just as his lips parted, his phone rang again. He listened to the voice on the other end for a few minutes, nibbling at the skin around his fingers. One strong hand pushed through his hair once the call ended, grabbing a thick fistful of curls as he threw his head back, eyes closed. Harry still hasn’t said a real word to you since he woke up, and seemed to be holding a lot back from whoever called him. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It hurt him that people sought to invade his privacy. It angered him that your relationship was at risk of being exposed because people couldn’t resist selling stories about his life. It infuriated him that he now had to spend the day dealing with his management instead of nursing a sore head with you.
Harry strode into the living room to pull his trainers on, grabbing his trademark Pleasing tote bag from a hook next to the door. He slipped sunglasses onto his head, pushing his unbrushed curls out of his face. You lingered on the opposite side of the room, arms wrapped tight around your chest. “Harry, where are y-,” you started, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as he interrupted you. “Need to sort this out. Y/n, I don’t want to ask but I need t’know. Was this anything at all to do with you?” He asked. You couldn’t believe he was pointing the finger at you. “Harry, no! No. I wouldn’t- I’d never,” you told him, hurt at the accusation. He nodded curtly, then disappeared out of the room, leaving you wounded and alone.
You’d decided to head to Joanie’s after Harry left, needing quality time with your best friend. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much,” you rushed into your best friends arms as she opened her front door. She pulled you inside, thrusting a pre-made cup of tea into your arms as you slumped in the corner of her ragged sofa. “I’ve been seeing someone,” you started to explain. “He’s been here in london with me, but I think that’s all over now.” You spilled as much as you could to your best friend, twisting the story slightly to keep Harry’s identity secret.
Wiping your hands against your thighs, you stood up, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. “Do you have a lighter?,” you asked Joanie, scanning the room. You’d never particularly enjoyed smoking but it was just habit for you to have a couple of ciggies when you were sad or stressed. It started when you and Joanie were much younger, newly 18 and enjoying pubs, clubs and boys far too much. Every time one of you had your heartbroken, got rejected at the club or simply drank too much, you needed to share a pack. Now 6 years down the line, it was a dirty little secret you shared, one that Joanie’s long time boyfriend and new husband didn’t even know about.
You sat on the little brick wall outside her house, talking about your plans for the show tonight. “I want to be where we were on Tuesday,” Joanie sighed dreamily, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette. You smiled meekly in response, dreading even being in the same venue as Harry, let alone so close to him again. “Did you see he was spotted with someone?” Joanie gasped, slapping her hand down on your knee. “I wouldn’t have married Tom if I knew Harry was dating.”
“Oh yes, your marital status is the one reason he’s gone for somebody else,” you scoffed, the pair of you collapsing into each other in a fit of giggles. You were so glad you had your best friend by your side through all of this, even if you couldn’t be totally honest with her. Joanie had always been the perfect opposite to you - the smart to your silly, the rose-tint to your pessimism, the light to your dark. Or whatever way it needed to go. She always managed to oppose your views and feelings, but in a way that gave both of you exactly what you needed. She lifted you up, mellowed you out, always opposite sides of the same coin. You had even spent your teenage years trying to convince school friends that you were destined to be best friends. Joanie was born on the hottest day of that year, and you on the coldest. It took fourteen years for life to bring the two of you together, but you felt as though you’d known her from birth. She was your soulmate, and it was eating up at you that you couldn’t tell her everything about Harry.
On the other side of London, Harry was sprawled across an armchair stuffed far too firm to be comfortable, though he knew that was the point. His long fingers were tapping a rhythm across his thigh, his eyes glued to the empty space left by his still-missing S ring. The tan line left behind sent a twinge through Harry’s chest. He regretted questioning you as soon as he’d said it, though he really didn’t know you well enough to be sure you weren’t involved. For all he knew, this could have been your plan all along. Get friendly with Harry Styles then sell your story to make a quick buck. Truthfully, he felt as though he could trust you, wanted to trust you, but he’d been burned too many times to fully count on his instincts.
“You best start explaining this, H.” Jeff’s voice was kind but stern, a cloud of frustration hanging over his head. Harry held his hands up in surrender, telling his manager, “it’s just a girl I’ve been seeing. Didn’t realise I had t’tell you and the world about it.”
“Harry- I’m your manager, for fucks sake. If you’re out doing things that could make a good story, it’s wise to tell me first. You know we need to get on top of things before anything like this happens.” Jeff’s words were now laced with annoyance. Annoyance with Harry, with the situation, with the media. When Harry failed to say anything further, Jeff pushed again. “So? Tell me what there is to tell and I can find a way out of this for you.”
Harry explained as much as he could, leaving out the raunchier details. He started to speak about ‘kiwi girl’ (as twitter had affectionately nicknamed you), when Jeff held up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there, H. Do not tell me this girl is a fan.” Harry’s silence and hanging head was a dead giveaway that you were, in fact, a fan. “And I’m assuming this is the same girl you upgraded the night after?” Harry nodded this time, standing from his seat to pace the length of the room instead. Jeff’s head was in his hands, sighing as he half-yelled “rule number one is you do. not. sleep. with. fans,” slamming the tip of his pen into the table with every word.
“It’s not-“ Harry started. “Not like that, I know. It’s never like that, mate.” Jeff finished for Harry, eyes finding the back of Harry’s head. “Listen, let’s set up an opportunity for more photos with a different woman. Make out you’re having a bit of a phase. Takes the heat off, means you can keep playing with your little fuck-toy in private.”
“She’s not my little fuck-toy,” Harry growled, his irritation threatening to explode out of him. “And I’ve been fucking doing it in private. All of it. Haven’t been with her outside the hotel, not since the first night. Haven’t entered and left at the same time, done everything to keep it fucking private.”
“And no one knows it’s this girl?”
“No, mate. No one else.”
The frosted door swung open, Glenne’s high heels tip-tapping across the marble floor with every step. “Harry!”, she beamed, pulling him in for a lingering hug. “Has my lovely husband been tormenting you?” She looked Harry up and down, eyes full of love and care. He chuckled bitterly, his tired eyes following her back across the room to where she perched on the edge of Jeff’s desk. “This isn’t such a big deal, you know.”
“No, seriously!” she insisted as both men scoffed. “It’s hardly a scandal. ‘Young single man spotted with woman’. It’s not exactly the headline of the century.”
“It is when the world finds out she’s a fan. He’ll be tormented by young girls for the rest of his career now,” Jeff told his wife. “So we don’t let that part get out - not unless you’re serious about her, H. Her family and friends might know if you’re spotted together again, but by the time it has to come out, you’ll be off the market. If you’re not serious, not seeing her again, how you met never has to leave this room. Besides, you’ve been tormented by young girls for years already.”
Harry had no idea how Glenne did it. She always managed to find the best solution, easy fixes that passed right under his and Jeff’s noses. “That works for me,” he sighed, the rubber band snapping from around his chest, finally able to breathe fully and deeply. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out quickly, praying it would be from you. It was Anne.
mum: Just got to the station. Think you have a bit of a situation so will see you later !! Xx
“Mum’s here. I need to go, Jeff. Thank you, Glenne,” Harry muttered as he fled the office, holding his hands up in a prayer position. He sent you a quick text as he left, having not heard from you since he’d left you this morning. Harry was relieved to have a plan, but his heart was still heavy. He should have warned you how quickly things can get real when you’re associated with him. He was so used to fooling around with other women in the industry, women who already knew the ins and outs of life with a celebrity. If the world learned your name, your life would be changed irreversibly. He’d seen what it had done to others, how the media had shared their private details, their families details. You might have known it was a risk, but neither of you had seen this coming so quickly. You hadn’t even discussed it, it was far too soon to even think about what would happen when the bubble burst.
You and Joanie had ended up in almost the exact position you were for night one, just as she wanted. You were wearing your red outfit today, wishing you’d worn that on Tuesday to match with Harry. Everything came back to Tuesday. A white denim skirt hugged your hips, carefully hand-painted red hearts dotted all over the material. You’d paired it with a bright red off the shoulder top, and Joanie next to you was wearing the same but in inverted colours. You were glad to have her close by your side tonight, glad to have been able to tell her the bare minimum about your aching heart. She’d insisted on bringing a funny sign tonight, desperate to catch Harry’s attention and make you smile. ‘my bestie had her heart broken, can you cheer her up ?!’, the sign read. You would keep your fingers crossed for the rest of your life if it meant Harry didn’t see the sign, didn’t notice you at all tonight.
He seemed more muted than usual, his dances and energy toned down in comparison to his usual self. You wondered if he’d tried to contact you at all today. Your phone had barely charged before you left for Joanie’s, then died again on your way over. You hadn’t bothered to charge it up since, preferring to ignore the internet for today at least. Harry knew where you were if he wanted to see you.
Joanie’s fingernails were digging into your arm, her screams bordering on nutty as Harry pulled his guitar strap over his head, mere feet in front of you once again. His eyes had glanced over you a few times, but he hadn’t noticed you. Either because he didn’t want to, or his mind was elsewhere. “Don’t tell me he’s going to-“, Joanie started, screaming again as the opening chords to ‘boyfriends’ echoed through the stadium. You couldn’t help the tears that immediately welled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your blushed cheeks. You hadn’t even thought about crying all day, hadn’t felt as though you needed to and now it was all pushing to the surface.
Boyfriends
Are they just pretending?
Joanie wrapped an arm around your waist, using her thumb to wipe a tear from your eye. You rested your head against her shoulder, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You weren’t even sure what made you so upset, but your heart couldn’t stop aching now that you thought about what had happened that morning- then it hit you. Harry hadn’t even asked you how you felt this morning, thought for a second how these pictures could affect you. After how attentive he’d been for days, it felt like a slap in the face. Had he been pretending? Did he only want you in his bed, only care when it was your secret?
They don't tell you where it's heading
You kept your eyes fixed on Harry, his dark pupils scanning the crowd in front of him through heavy eyelids. They lingered on you for only half a second, not long enough for anyone to notice but long enough for you to watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes clouded over, blinking rapidly as he cleared his throat and looked away from you.
And you know the game's never ending
He stepped back from the microphone, signalling to the crowd to sing for him as he turned his back, the gut-wrenching glisten of tears in his eyes visible for a split second.
He whispered something to Sarah as the song finished and stepped closer to the microphone, his rich voice suddenly crooning, “baby, you were the love of my life”. Harry’s eyes looked anywhere except for you, hurt and shame written all over his face. He knew he’d acted like a dick today, from the way he handled the situation with you, to the way he spoke to Jeff, to the way he made almost no time for his darling mum and sister before the show. He needed to make it all alright, most of all with you. He silently prayed that you’d know these songs were for you, feel what he was trying to convey.
He moved over to the opposite side of the stage, turning to point at Jonny’s place when he mentioned it. Yours and Joanie’s faces flashed up on the screen, Joanie waving her sign around like a mad woman while you wiped your teary eyes. You laughed at the sight of the two of you, you made an insane pair. Harry was watching the screen as he sang, desperate to let his eyes linger on you without actually doing just that. He blew a kiss to your general area as the band played out, girls around you screaming. He walked past you on his way back to the main stage, watching you subtly catch his kiss with the hand still trying to dry your eyes. That soothed him a little, lifted his mood just enough to get through the remainder of the show.
Harry explained everything to Anne and Gemma after the show, head in his hands as they sighed and groaned at his story. “Harry Edward, you’re a very bad man sometimes,” Anne gasped, swatting at his knee. “You got this poor girl obsessed with you, then you ditch her at the first sign of trouble?”
“Oi, I didn’t ditch her!,” he said, his vibe not too far from that of a petulant teenager’s. “I needed to deal with the business side, needed t’sort out Jeff.”
Gemma placed a hand on Harry’s forearm, “have you spoken to her? Explained it all? Y/n is probably going out of her mind right now, H.”
“I think her phones off, we haven’t spoken all day,” Harry sighed. He didn’t have the words to explain to himself, or his family, why this felt like a much bigger problem than it was. Why his heart was so much heavier than it should have been for someone he’d only known for 4 days. “It’s getting late now, go and get some rest darling. See if you can reach her tonight, you’ve got us all day tomorrow.” Anne rose from her seat, tugging on Harry’s wrists to get him moving. She pulled him in for a cuddle when he stood, knowing a mother’s hug can make the biggest problems seem smaller. He held her tight, taking a deep sniff of her floral, earthy scent. She smelled like home. It always seemed to calm him down.
“You did amazing tonight, my special baby boy. Love you so much, we can’t wait to get some proper time with you tomorrow,” Anne said, a radiant grin spreading across her face. She never wanted to see him torn up about anything, hated watching him fall in and out of love every so often, healing the hurt and heartbreak he wore so well. But having her little boy in her arms was more than enough to warm her heart.
Harry knocked on your door, feeling sheepish. He was usually far too stubborn to trail back with his tail between his legs so soon, but this was different. You hadn’t done him wrong, hadn’t bought him anything other than joy. You were the innocent pawn in someone else’s game, a game that he hadn’t realised could, and had, hurt you both. He let the gift bag he held fall to his side when you didn’t answer, his clenched wrist going limp.
He knocked again after a few minutes, and again a few minutes after that. He couldn’t hear anything inside, but that didn’t mean you weren’t in there. He turned on his heel, deciding to head back upstairs, hoping he’d at least get a text from you before he slept. Then he saw you, trudging towards the door, eyes fixed on your phone screen. Your hair was hanging down your back in a messy braid, the t-shirt Harry had loaned to you on Monday night engulfing your slender frame. You looked up as you got nearer, brown eyes locking onto his. Stopping in your tracks, you felt the wings of a thousand butterflies knocking against the inner walls of your belly, heart beating like a ticking time bomb. The hallway was silent, the weight of a thousand things you wanted to say to each other but couldn’t find the words to say hanging over your heads. “Hey,” you smiled, reaching for your keycard. “I just went to get some food, is everything okay?”
Harry let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, stepping forward to wrap you up in his arms. Your bodies melted into each other, your hands splayed against Harry’s back, cradling him so tight you thought you might never let go. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled, pink lips spreading into a warm smile. Holding onto each other, just being close, was enough to make it right.
You let the two of you inside, unpacking your food onto the countertop as Harry lingered behind you. “I got sushi, there’s enough for two if you want to stay,” you offered.
You both sat on the bed to eat, giggles cutting through a peaceful silence as you watched reruns of the Office. Harry’s fingers found yours after a while, his thumb tracing shapes on the back of your hand. “I got you something,” he told you, standing up to grab the gift bag from where he’d left it.
Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you untied the white ribbon, pulling a handwritten note from a tiny envelope.
‘heard you got your heart broken. thought this could cheer you up’.
You shook your head as you read it, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. “I told her not to take that sign,” you laughed. “I tried to tell her a bit this morning but it’s a little hard to explain.” Harry grinned, “it was sweet. Though I bet she’ll be mortified if she knows she told me I broke your heart.”
A dark green velvet jewellery box sat in the bottom of the bag, slimline and dainty. You looked up at Harry, as if unsure this was for you. “Open it,” he smiled, words coming out small. Inside was the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen. A tiny chain, the perfect shade of gold to complement your other jewellery. At the bottom of the chain sat a tiny H, studded with imitation diamonds. You bought the box closer to your face, fingers tracing delicately over the elegant design. “H,” you whispered, totally taken aback by the gift. “For Harry,” he smirked. “Do you like it?”
You were stunned, your mouth trying and failing to form words. All you could do was keep tracing over the pendant, eyes glancing between the necklace and the man sitting in front of you. “I love it, Harry. I really do,” you eventually managed, grateful tears filling up your eyes. You set the box down beside you, closing the distance between you and Harry. He held a warm hand to your cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to the end of your nose. “Turn around, let me help you put it on.”
He secured the chain around your neck, peppering soft kisses across your back. “It’s beautiful Harry, really. I can’t thank you enough,” you sighed, fiddling with the H as you spoke. You leaned back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I really am,” he spoke. “Didn’t mean t’rush out on you in such a hurry.”
“Harry, it’s f-“, you interrupted, wanting to put the whole day behind you now that you had him back. “It’s not fine. Didn’t like you seeing me so pissed off, I wanted to get away and sort it all out. But I hurt you.” He was speaking softer now, his voice gentle. “You didn’t Harry, I was confused that’s all. I didn’t know what any of this meant, for you or for us.”
“And I should’ve spoken to you, got on the same page so we could handle it together.” You pulled away from him as he spoke, turning your body around to face him again. You could see the shame etched into every line on his face, the way he’d beaten himself up all day showing in his eyes. You rested your hand on the side of his neck, thumb stroking the sharp edge of his jawline. “You got it sorted though?” you asked. “All sorted, princess. Had to tell everyone everything though. Even told my mum,” he smiled meekly. “Yeah? Told her how pretty and perfect I am?” you grinned, fluttering your eyelashes. “Told her you’re the prettiest girl in the world. After her of course.”
He really did think you were the prettiest girl in the world. Especially now, in his t-shirt, wearing his initial around your neck. Your hair was messy, your skin fresh. The evening light seeping in from the window was illuminating you from behind, giving you an angelic glow.
“Have you showered?” you asked him. “Yeah. But I’ll have another one if it means more time with you,” he grinned, already yanking his hoodie over his head.
You were taking turns under the water, laughing and joking as you manoeuvred around each other in the small space. “Give me a kiss,” Harry smiled. “Since when have you asked for kisses?” you laughed, poking at his chest. “Don’t know if I deserve one today.”
“Lucky for you, I can’t deny you any,” you said as you leaned towards him. He held onto the back of your head as his lips met yours. His lips were as warm and as soft as they’d ever been, the tickle of his hot breath sending sparks down your spine. Your tongue darted out of your parted lips, licking a trail across his bottom teeth before slipping into his mouth. Harry moved his mouth to your throat, suckling on your wet skin. “Gonna mark you up, show everyone you’re mine,” he whispered. He ran his tongue over the bruise he left behind, before continuing to kiss down your body, pausing to nibble on your perky nipple. He licked a circle around your belly button as your hands found his wet hair, shifting your body to lean against the tiled wall.
“Open up for me,” he asked, nose nudging into the space where your thighs met. He rested back on his heels, admiring your pussy. “So perfect, my sweet girl,” he drawled, fingers tracing up the inside of your thigh. His warm face was so close to right where you needed him, mouth so close that his tongue could reach out and have a taste. His mouth was watering at the sight of your arousal wetting your folds. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to taste you, wet his face with your juices, have you screaming as you came on his tongue.
You were whimpering as soon as Harry’s lips made contact with your pussy, his tongue lapping into your folds. He was eating you like he’d been starving, like your pussy was the first and only thing he’d ever be allowed to enjoy. His nose grazed over your clit as he licked at your entrance, sending your hips bucking into his mouth as the bundle of nerves lit on fire. He chuckled at your body’s reaction, murmuring a slurred, “need daddy to give you more?” You tugged on his curls in response, breathless and unable to speak. He moved immediately to focus on your clit, his lips wrapping around your button as he sucked and popped. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting pleasure deep into your core.
You’d never found much pleasure from someone’s mouth, yet Harry’s was taking you to places you’d never been before. Your back was arched off the wall, fingertips buried so deep in his hair you could pierce his scalp. Your eyes were grainy, the hot steam from the shower swirling around your head. You felt like you were in a trance, moans and incoherent words slipping out of your mouth uncontrollably.
Harry gripped onto the back of your thigh, steadying himself as he pulled his mouth closer into your entrance. His tongue was licking deeper into you, one finger rubbing circles around your clit. “Harry,” you whimpered, feeling your legs begin to buckle beneath you. Your orgasm rolled over you in waves, your body so limp yet so tense under his touch. His tongue kept fucking into you, his hard cock twitching between his legs as you screamed out a strangled moan. You pulled one hand out of his curls, gripping onto the shower caddy to keep yourself from collapsing. Your head was spinning, stars all you could see as Harry rode you through your high. Between the water dripping from his hair, and your juices drenching his face, Harry thought he could drown. He’d die happily here, nestled between your legs, lips attached to your perfect pussy for eternity.
He pulled away after a moment, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit before standing, pulling your weak body into his arms. “Always do so good for me, baby girl,” he cooed, pushing the wet strands of hair off of your forehead. He could get drunk off the way you looked post-orgasm, your cheeks flushed and pupils blown. The way your mouth never fully closed and your breasts jumped as your chest heaved. Harry got a kick out of knowing he did that to you, he bought you that pleasure.
His cock bumped against your hips as he helped you out the shower, your hands all over each other as you pushed him towards the granite countertop. “What’s bought this on?” Harry smirked, not used to seeing you take such an active role. It had been established pretty early on that Harry was a giver, all he wanted was to pleasure you, and you had no problems being a taker. But his cock had been calling out to you for days, begging you for a taste. “Where you going?” he asked you, head tilting to the side as your hands slithered down his body, your knees hitting the tiled floor. You stayed silent, pressing kisses up the inside of his thigh. You bit down into the fleshy part near the top, quickly licking over the teeth marks. Harry shuddered as you nipped at his skin, repeating the move up and down both his thighs. You suckled at the skin next to his base, leaving your mark. A perfect little purple bruise, a matching tattoo.
You looked up at him as he reached down to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip, his butterfly tattoo seemingly flapping its wings as he breathed in and out. “Gonna stuff daddy’s cock into that pretty little mouth?” he rasped, his thighs tensing as you hacked spit into your palms. You stroked his member up and down, up and down, again and again as you pressed swollen-mouthed kisses to his thick tip. Holding a hand at his base, you licked a line down the underside of his shaft, then took his tip in your mouth hungrily. He was far bigger than you’d ever had, and you were unsure of how well your usual tricks would work on someone his size.
He whimpered as you took him further in your mouth, your warm cheeks tightening against his length as you sucked. Your hand moved up and down the inches of him you couldn’t manage to take, swirling your heated tongue around his head as you pulled him further out. “Knew you could be a good little slut for daddy,” he drawled, gathering your dripping hair and using it to guide your head up and down his cock. He kept his free hand steadied on the countertop, mouth dropping open as you popped off of his head and moved your mouth to his balls. Harry threw his head back as you suckled at his sack, rolling your tongue against the soft, sensitive skin. Your hand continued tugging against his length as you worked, your nose bumping the underside of his foreskin. “Fuck baby, give me more, please,” he groaned, wrapping your long hair around his fist. You switched your hand and your mouth, fondling his balls while you stuffed his cock back into your mouth. You looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as you took his member further than you had before, reaching as far as you could before gagging against his head. His hand tugged at your hair somewhat involuntarily as your throat closed around him, a choked moan squeezing out against his tip. Your eyes were red, tears brewing above your lower lashes. “Taste so fucking good daddy,” you told him, mouth moving up and down faster now, humming in appreciation as his cock twitched in your throat.
Harry had never seen you look so sexy, not when you took his cock so well, not when you were coming on his tongue. Like this, stark naked on the bathroom floor, his cock lodged between your perfect swollen pout, this is what he wanted to remember. Have the image etched in his brain forever, see you like this every time he closed his eyes. His balls felt heavy in your hand, loaded with the cum he couldn’t wait to shoot down your pretty little throat. “Fuck, princess. I’m gonn- gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned, his voice deep with lust. You moaned against him, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around his girthy member, your perfect H pendant swinging against your chest as you bobbed back and forth. You splayed your free hand against his thigh as it started to shake, looking up his body to see his abs tensing, his pecs twitching as you bought him close to climax. “Come for me daddy,” you whined against him, words muffled by his cock taking over your throat. He pulled his head down to his chest, eyes screwed tight and jaw slack as he came violently, thick cum splashing against the back of your throat. You swallowed around his head, ribbons of cum flooding your cheeks. You moved the hand cradling his sack to stroke his length, riding him through his orgasm. His hips jutted towards you, your hair wound tightly around his clenched fist.
His grip eased up as he came down from his high, darkened eyes opening to look down at you as you removed your mouth from him completely. You had his juices dripping out of your mouth, eyes threatening to spill over as you wiped them with the back of your hand. “Never seen anything so pretty in my whole life,” Harry smiled, rubbing the curve of your neck.
You dried yourselves off, fluffy towels soothing your aching, exhausted bodies. Crawling into bed still naked, you and Harry faced each other, whispering sweet nothings as you kissed over each others faces. He fell asleep before you, one arm draped across your chest, hand still cupping your jaw. Your phone lit up with a text from Joanie,
J: everything ok? you happy?
You snapped a selfie, Harry’s strong hand barely visible in the pitch black room. You sent it to her, captioned simply, the happiest
part five
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captain-joongz · 30 days
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Space for two
Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader
Genre: smut, both angsty and fluffy, dark themes, positive ending, historical au (maybe like 18/early 19th century Joseon)
Summary: Trapped in a marriage arranged by our families, married to a cold, uncaring man and taking care of a farm in the middle of nowhere, I had sunken to the lowest lows. Aware of my husband's gambling habits and love for brothels that often kept him from home, I'd gotten used to the feeling of falling asleep in a cold, empty bed. But that changed one day, when an uninvited guest made himself quite at home and brought with him warm touches and scorching dreams. Gentleness coming from the one least expected may just be the push into the right direction.
Word count: 25.4k
Warnings: some dark themes, demon Taetae (he's a sweetie though), he's messing with the reader a little tho, he does have some slight yandere vibes, themes of depression and loneliness, infidelity, a shitty husband, some themes and mentions of domestic violence and verbal abuse (at one point the husband grabs her by the hair, throws stuff around the house), mentions of death and murder
NSFW warnings: slightly dubcon-ish (at first he visits her dreams), reader is inexperienced and embarrassed, slight innocence/corruption kink if you squint really hard, wet dreams, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, making out, handjob, unprotected sex (it's joseon :// you be careful out there), some slight breeding kink, half clothed sex
A/N: super late but finally here!! i'm sorry for all the delays, but this just kept getting longer and longer and i had to juggle it between schoolwork, but i hope it is worth the wait! this is actually based on a korean folklore story of prince cheoyong, which i explain in the end notes so i don't spoil anything hehe
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I was preparing the food in silence, the only sounds in the room the clanking of my knife on the cutting board and slight bubbling in the pot over the fire. It was winter and so I kept the doors leading to the yard closed, but I still heard the thuds of my husband chopping firewood, the dull thumps of the wood hitting the ground, the swish of his axe in the air.
I was already well used to this, to the silence of this place.
It was a quiet that could only come from unhappiness and spite, the kind that made you feel lonely and desolate, knowing the only other person around rather chose to not speak than engage with you. It was what I had come to know very well in here.
I had found myself married quite abruptly. It was a little over a year ago, when a messenger from the Ryu family of the neighbouring village arrived at our door. My father accepted him, but didn’t speak of what the meeting was about, which raised some suspicions between the women of the family. I was the second child of the family and the eldest of the daughters, and way past the age when women of my standing usually married. It felt like we all knew what it would come to.
My unmarried status was a bit of a controversial story around these parts.
I wouldn’t call our family exactly disgraced, but we weren’t at the full glory the Kangs used to stand at, back in the days of my great great great great-grandfather, who built the family into a considerable fortune, but whose grandson to the family’s great embarrassment failed the gwageo examinations several times and couldn’t secure an official position. The family had tried to bribe their way into the office, but the local official came from a family that had been feuding with ours for a few generations, over something that was no doubt petty and no longer relevant. He basked in the desperation of our family and wished for nothing more than to see them crash and burn, thus if we couldn’t secure a position through the examinations, he wouldn’t allow any bribery in order to destroy our clan.
The embarrassment continued as neither his son, nor his grandson were able to pass the qwageo and our family was stripped of our title. We had been living on the rapidly thinning fortune, trying to keep some sort of decorum, but feeling the full force of shame the other inhabitants from our area showed towards us. To them, we were pathetic. Just some thirty years ago we were strolling through these streets as if we owned them and now, disgraced and quickly running out of options, here we were – on the same level as them.
My father was able to break the family curse by starting a successful shop with trinkets, toys and other useful little devices, which allowed us to stay afloat money-wise, but cast us further into shame, considering our family had once been part of the yangban class and thus weren’t supposed to work. Even if disgraced, rules applied to us, and we were a great embarrassment to those who we used to call friends and allies.
The curse was further broken when father in his quite advanced age managed to pass the gwageo and got a spot in local office. He pushed my younger brothers into studies, as his pride never took this situation lightly. He was brought up to be an aristocrat, but here he was, working his days away like a commoner. In the end, his obsession was fruitful when two of my three brothers also passed their examinations and entered into civil duty, one striving for the office and one for the military service. The middle son, who struggled with his studies, was put in charge of the shop where he excelled.
As such, we were suddenly catapulted back into our previous standing, after several generations of disgrace, after struggling financially and fighting for survival every month, we were back to walking the streets with our chins held high, wrapped from head to toe in silk.
And that’s where the controversy about my marriage started.
As most young people, I had been promised and engaged to a young boy from a different neighbouring village. Due to the fact that we lost our title, I couldn’t strive for marriage withing the yangban class – after all, social standing was inherited after the mother, so I couldn’t be more than a concubine since I would curse my child with low social status. But that would be a hit to my father’s pride. Therefore he rather engaged me to a son of a lower middle class trader. To them, I was someone of a better status as they had never received a title, and my family would expand their funds.
But then several things happened all almost at once.
We regained our status, thus our marriage in my father’s eyes was no longer appropriate, even though finding someone from the yangban who would want me to marry their son would be nigh impossible. He demanded the breaking of the engagement, which was something the society looked down upon, especially since he had sealed the deal years ago. The two families started feuding, the trader now even more eager to secure me for them, and my father with his regained confidence insisting upon marriage to someone “of our class”. And during this time, the boy fell ill and promptly died.
Since we were engaged, I now was to be considered his widow even though we hadn’t had our wedding, but my father insisted that the engagement was broken off and I had no such obligation. The trader of course claimed the complete opposite and demanded we go through with everything as was arranged. The people in the area, even if they followed the drama between the two families closely and listened to gossip religiously, they themselves couldn’t tell who was telling the truth. Our engagement had been in place for years, but it was also widely known that my father has changed his mind and demanded for the wedding to be off.
In the eyes of some I was free to marry, but some viewed me as a young widow, a ghost bride, and thus I couldn’t find another husband unless I wanted to bring huge shame on the family and reap cosmic consequences. But most simply disliked my father for his underhanded tactics and newfound arrogance.
But this situation had made the question of my marriage impossible to solve. It was already unlikely that a match of my father’s expectations would be willing to take me as a first wife and honour me as such, since the yangbans looked down on us heavily, and now I had become tarnished goods in the eyes of potential suitors. My family still tried desperately to pawn me off to someone, but we had turned into a huge joke between the families in the area and I was doomed. Some even started to view me as a cursed woman, touched by black magic, that would bring death to any man who would want to marry me, and that was a final nail in the coffin of my marriage.
But my father wouldn’t give up so easily. He still had something that many desired enough to risk a curse on their family – money and power.
Thus, when the messenger had come and father refused to divulge any information about the nature of the meeting, the wives and daughters that had amassed in our house over the years all whispered about a potential engagement. I thought it was possible, but it was probably for one of my younger sisters. I was wrong.
The Ryu family used to be a powerful local aristocracy, but over the last few generations they had fallen considerably. Their disgrace wasn’t as openly talked about as ours, even though they were the centre of some mean-spirited jokes, however they had one powerful advantage. They didn’t lose their title, just most of their money. While their children still could live their lives telling everyone they were yangbans, they didn’t have the money to uphold the lifestyle. Only one of their sons had an office and it wasn’t enough to keep the whole extended family afloat. There were rumours of gambling, addiction and unwise spending, which were the most probable factors in their fall.
They knew no one self-respecting would marry their children, who were all pushed into working for their livelihood, and they couldn’t marry under their standing lest the children lose their status. That’s when they came up with the bright idea to get into talks with our family.
My father didn’t waste any time. For him, this was perfect – the right class, family with still some respect left intact, he had enough money, so he didn’t mind striking a business deal with the mostly impoverished family and I was used to working, as I had also grown up before our rise. It was just the perfect deal.
From the moment I had first heard about it, it was barely two months before I found myself fully engaged and a week away from a wedding to a man I’d never met before. He was the second son; he had a house on the foot of the mountain a little further away from the town that was the heart of this area. It would take some travelling, but still remained close enough to keep close ties.
Our wedding ceremony was brief and awkward, a lot of stilted conversation and pretend joy, while my mother and sisters all gathered around me in silent support. I saw their sad and worried eyes, the graveness of their usually more cheerful voices, the barely masked sympathy they looked at me with when I interacted with my stone-faced husband. Marriage was something I had since long made peace with, after all it is what every woman has to face at some point in her life, so I had just squeezed their hands and smiled at them gently, whispered words of assurance and prepared myself for the long journey to my new home.
I had soon found out he was a cold quiet man, rough and unhappy. Most of the time he wouldn’t address me with much more than grumbling complaints, cross when I tried to speak to him, when I asked him questions or requested something to be bought, turning away from me and rather spending time tending to his house and to his animals.
I was suddenly confined to a few rooms within an unwelcoming dark house, knitting or sewing or cooking, trying to lose myself in the mindless tasks of caring for a man and a household instead of dwelling on the growing despair in the pit of my stomach. Since then the situation between us has considerably worsened, but I found that the angrier he grew with me, the less he wanted to see me and the more he avoided me, which had begun to bring me relief. I was lonely and I did feel abandoned, but it was better than surviving in the same room as him.
I had gotten used to the air of gloom hanging over this dwelling.
My hand reached over for another carrot and found none, and I startled myself out of reminiscing. The vegetables were cut and the stew was boiling vigorously, so I busied myself with finishing. The sounds of chopping wood have ceased and I could no longer hear any traces of my husband’s presence.
Curious, I opened the door and peeked outside. The bitter coldness of the air immediately bit into my face and I shuddered, my body shocked by the sudden freezing temperatures when it was so warm from the kitchen fire. Looking over the yard, I didn’t see the hulking form of the man I’d come to live with, but I did see his fresh footprints in the snow leading towards the pig sty. Satisfied I walked back in and closed the door again. Rubbing my hands on my arms and cheeks I hurried back to the pot to warm up.
Soon the sun would go down and night would fall, so he was tending to the pigs for the last time tonight, making sure they had everything, which gave me a little more time to finish up dinner.
Some maybe half hour later the door finally opened roughly and he made his way in wordlessly. There were wet footprints on the floor left behind and a puddle was slowly gathering as melted snow dripped from his coat. I bit my tongue and said nothing, just pulled out the table and started setting it for dinner.
No words were traded and yet the atmosphere chilled considerably, the mood dropping low along with the sun on the horizon. We sat down, we ate in silence. Once he was done, he again got up, put a fresh coat on and was out of the door before I could even wish him a good night.
I used to ask where he was going, but there was no longer any need for that. He spent his evenings and nights in the same place every day, it was a habit that must have started a little before our betrothal. He had found himself some new friends from the town, friends that very happily spent most of their time playing cards, smoking opium, drinking and crawling from brothel to brothel.
Around the time of our wedding, he only joined them a few nights of the week and usually came back in the middle of the night. Back then I saw it as a problem and oftentimes tried to dissuade him from throwing away money this way. His family lost all they had because their young lord lived this exact lifestyle, it was foolish for him to fall down the same trap, but it was a frequent cause of arguments between us and the more I pushed for him to not go out and spend so much money, the more he wanted to. Gradually he went more often, came back later, until I had started waking up to an untouched, unslept in bed.
But I do have to admit that nowadays I saw it more as a relief that he never spent his nights home, even if that meant our already hard-to-come-by money was being thrown out the window like it was nothing. I’d come to prefer spending time alone.
I cleaned up after dinner and started preparing myself for bed. The ritual of changing clothes, brushing out my hair and smoothing out the bedding on the mats was helping me calm down every evening, but tonight I couldn’t find rest for some reason. While I sat on the floor and carefully brushed my hair, the house felt chillier than usual and I kept hearing soft creaks from the outside as if someone was walking around on the porch. It’s just the wind and the frost, it must be.
Unsettled I lost the battle with myself and went to look out into the yard. The moment I got near the door, suddenly a gust of chilling wind bust the door open and I screamed with shock, covering my naked arms to shield them from the frost. Immediately I jumped towards the door to close it back up, not before looking out into the yard and the forest beyond the walls of our house. There was a full moon hanging over us in the night sky and its light allowed me to see everything with startling ease, casting an eerie silver glow over the murmuring trees. I quickly shut the door and sat back down to help my heart calm down, as it was beating so hard I feared it might tear right out of my ribcage.
After I laid down, it took me a long moment to settle down enough for sleep to start licking at my consciousness. I kept startling myself with every crack and every hum of the wind outside and the fright from before still coursed through my veins, making me shiver and trying to persuade me there was something wicked hiding behind the darkness, lurking in every corner and waiting for an unguarded moment.
But somewhere along the way I did nod off and when I woke up in the morning, I was certain the strong arms that at some point found their way around my waist and pulled me into a warm wide chest were nothing more than a dream. An embarrassing dream that just spoke of my sombre solitude.
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In the first months of our marriage, much to my chagrin, Minhwan practiced his marital rights almost nightly. Some nights he would return late from his outings with friends and immediately roll over on me and demand I submit. I did of course, it was expected of me and I was well aware of that. I had been taught that.
But over the course of several months, the frequency of such encounters lessened as I wasn’t getting pregnant, until we no longer even spoke to each other and his side of the bed became permanently unoccupied.
Of course, there was a simple, and really the only, reason for my introduction into this family – a child. A son. That was the end-goal of this union and the purpose for my existence in their eyes. After I had failed to fall pregnant despite months of effort, the man I married who already wasn’t very kind to me slowly turned into someone crueller, angrier. I could see the frustration taking over him until he completely lost himself in the rage at my uselessness.
He couldn’t divorce me, even though my inability to bear him an heir would be a legitimate reason. His family was already teetering on the edge of respectability, and this would make them the laughing stock of the town, since they definitely wouldn’t be able to find him another bride. That was because of the other issue. Money. They bought me with what last they had left and if divorced they would not only lose my father’s protection and financial help, but also wouldn’t be able to scrounge up enough money to buy another woman, if they even found one that was willing.
Minhwan knew that, knew that he couldn’t get rid of me, and even though his status would allow him to take a second wife or even a concubine, he couldn’t afford them. What little he had he gambled away and spent on girls in the red district; and not much was left for actually running the household and keeping us alive. No self-respecting family would let their daughter enter a family like that and women who were after money and status wouldn’t find anything here. And if he had an illegitimate son from a kisaeng, he could hardly bring it here and claim him as an heir, his father would never let him disgrace the bloodline like that.
Thus in his eyes I was worse than useless. I was his doom, a wasted effort that only pushed him further down and he no doubt felt that the best thing I could do for him was to die, so he could remarry. That’s why I preferred when he didn’t return home for the nights. Living alongside such pure hatred was draining.
When I was sitting by the mirror in the morning, I had just heard him return home. I opened the door a crack and peeked outside, just catching his eye as he was changing into fresher clothes. He held the contact for a few beats of my wild heart and then looked away.
“Breakfast?” he asked gruffly, not even forming a full sentence, while still looking away from me. I followed his gaze and found it stuck to the door leading into kitchen. I sighed quietly, making sure he couldn’t hear me lest he gets angry with my insolence.
“I will prepare it in a second,” was my short answer. He wasn’t interested in hearing anything more, the less I said the better. Thus my morning routine had to be cut short. Walking past him, I was suddenly bombarded with the smell of smoke, stale alcohol and cheap perfume and powder. The stench was a bit too strong for my queasy morning stomach and I felt it roll a few times, threatening to spill even though it was empty. I subtly covered my nose and busied myself into the kitchen smelling pleasantly of food and spices. This room has become my refuge. I knew he wouldn’t overstep here, this was my domain and I felt at least a semblance of power in here.
As distracted as I was, I kept finding my tools in places where I didn’t leave them in. I would turn around and suddenly my spoon would be laying two paces further into the room then I remembered leaving it. I told myself I was just tired, I was feeling unnerved by my husband’s hulking presence on the doorstep of the room, watching me prepare porridge as if fearing I’d poison him if he’d look away for a moment, I was still flustered by my dreams and nervous from the scare the night before. Surely it was that.
That day I spent mostly inside, sitting by a dying fire trying to mend broken and torn clothes, worn thin by hard labour and years of wear, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unsettlement that has been plaguing me since yesterday’s evening.
By the time the night fell and Minhwan left again, I found myself quite anxious to be left alone in the cold house, still feeling like a presence was glued to my side, invisible and watching me, but every time I would look over my shoulder, I’d find an empty room. Before settling down to sleep, I walked out and checked the courtyard again, and just like the previous evening, it was illuminated by a silver light so brightly it was almost shocking.
I looked to the sky and was stunned by the giant full moon hanging over my head. The night was calm, much calmer then yesterday, no wind shaking the trees and the only sound was the distant cawing of a bird. The white snow reflected the night sky and blinded me, but not enough to not notice the stark contrast of pitch black footsteps disrupting the otherwise clean coat over the ground. I could see their path clearly, leaving the house and disappearing behind the gate, and they filled me with gentle sadness. With my mind off of the ghost of a feeling that’s been following me the whole day, I made my way back inside to sleep. But I wasn’t prepared for what the night had prepared for me.
As soon as I closed my eyes and started drifting off, I felt the mat and bedding shifting as another body laid down next to me. I had fully accepted it, not questioning the arms making their way around my waist and pulling me into a warm hug. It felt as a very clear dream, and I found myself fighting to open my eyes to see, but instead chose to sink into the comfortable atmosphere. There was a hum behind me, but the voice was so deep and pressed so close to me it almost felt like a purr. Non-consciously I answered with my own, drifting with the current. I fooled myself into this, so desperately needing to feel a nice touch that I didn’t even want to think about why somewhere deep down I felt alarmed and unsettled at the situation. I buried that away and let the hands run along my sides, basked in the quiet humming somewhere right behind my ear and the warmth it filled me with.
When I woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of a door slamming open and heavy steps and sighs. I was confused for a few moments, subconsciously searching for the comfort I had felt in my sleep, only to be hit with a wave of embarrassment and mortification. I had been dreaming again, imagining inappropriately a stranger’s presence in my bed, hoping for a touch and comfort of man’s hands.
I felt the blush spill over my face just as the door to the bedroom flew open and my husband found my gaze. I saw suspicion in his eyes, most probably not used to seeing me in such a flustered state and questioning what could stand behind it. His eyes shifted subtly over the room as if looking for a hidden lover and in my mind I chuckled. He dragged me away into the woods, and living in the middle of nowhere and not allowed to leave the house without him or an attendant I couldn’t afford, how could I have possibly found a lover? No one came here and I went nowhere, the only company I knew was the animals and a warm fire, a needle and a thread and worn books, I couldn’t take the same liberties he has been taking for a better part of our marriage.
When Minhwan made sure I was completely alone, just as he left me, he looked back to me and asked for breakfast. That broke the strange silence and I was thrown right back into the routine of my normal days.
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Over the following few nights, the dream kept coming back to me, but every time the unknown man in my fantasy went a little further. More often than not I found myself waking up with a start, blushing red from head to toe at the daring hands that kept straying more and more south, embarrassed with myself but also not wanting them to stop before I had the chance to experience whatever my subconscious wanted to grant me.
At first, his hands would only lightly caress along my side, as if trying to console me and help me sleep peacefully, while he hummed along some kind of a lullaby behind me. Everything always felt pleasantly fuzzy and I’d come to think of him as my dream guardian. My days, in comparison, felt dull and sad, and I’d found some sort of peace in these dreams.
But soon, the direction started to change. The hands strayed lower onto my thighs, grabbing the flesh lightly and teasingly, or going over my stomach until they were right under where my breasts were. I could feel him pressed closer to me too, his front moulded around my back, shoulders caging me in, the sweet humming slowly turning into something more akin to satisfied purring, causing me to flush red and a rush of excitement to flow through my veins. He always laid behind me and his existence felt like half here half not, but the closer he pushed himself, the more solid his presence was, the warmer I felt in the embrace and the more flustered I woke up.
Clearly, I hadn’t been taking proper care of my body and it was screaming for some sort of attention, there was no other explanation for these embarrassing dreams. The shame I felt from such urges surfacing in this manner was overshadowed only by the pressing loneliness, and I kept telling myself that even if I am a married, proper woman, dreams are dreams, and indulging in them a little wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? So, I let myself slip into sweet sleep every night, anticipating where my mind would take me.
During the day the little slip ups would continue. I would misplace things, find them in completely different places then I’d left them before. Sometimes it felt as if I was losing my mind, that the combination of the strange dreams and my sudden scatteredness meant I was finally feeling the effects of the situation I’d find myself in. But I could swear sometimes I would catch a glimpse of shadow or hear a gust of wind that sounded suspiciously like a laugh when I couldn’t find something. It made me feel even more insane.
The moment I realised what was truly happening came a few days later. Even though I was a little unsettled, I’d grown accustomed to the dreams and I treated them as my little escape, no matter whether I should have been concerned or not. I felt comfort from them and they felt like a dirty secret of mine, something I shouldn’t have been doing but it felt so nice I couldn’t stop myself. My husband spent all his nights god knows where doing god knows what with god knows who, I could allow myself this little thing.
Usually, I would sleep through the night without a problem and in the morning I’d be woken up by Minhwan coming back home and barging into the bedroom to ask for a breakfast, but that night for some reason I was shaken out of my sleep somewhere in the dark hours of the early morning. There was some noise outside, something that sounded like a wolf howl, and it was so close I was almost afraid to check the yard in case there was a wild animal there, but I had to go see whether the rabbits and chickens we were keeping were peaceful, just to be sure.
I moved to get out of the bed, but found an arm around my waist pinning me to another body and keeping me in place. My first instinct was to panic, but quickly that was overridden by utter bottomless embarrassment. What if Minhwan has been returning home earlier than I thought and this whole time my mind only substituted some unknown man in the place of my husband as I was falling asleep? Had I been embarrassing myself in front of him the whole time, dreaming about such immoral things and imagining a stranger’s embrace? But he had never touched me like this, and even when we shared a bed at the beginning of our marriage, he never showed the habit of hugging something while sleeping. He always kept himself to his side and never touched me unless completely necessary, even during marital activities. I couldn’t imagine him slipping quietly into bed in the middle of the night and embracing me so tenderly.
Complicated emotions flooded me, not knowing what to make of this, but in a moment of weakness I fooled myself into thinking this could maybe be a beginning of a better marriage. That was shattered the moment I reached back to gently pat at his thigh to wake him up to go check on the animals. There was some shuffling, the arm tightened around my mid and suddenly I could feel him nosing at the crook of my neck, laying a single long wet kiss there. I froze and flushed, completely flustered and even more confused by the situation. Then he chuckled and ice cold flooded my veins. I felt myself freeze in place, terror keeping me so still I barely even breathed. That wasn’t my husband’s voice. It was deep and velvety, rich like the dark chocolate I’d once gotten the chance to try in the city, completely different from Minhwan’s quiet rough commands.
Fear was making it hard to think, but I knew he realised I was awake based on how stiff I’d gotten, I could hear him quietly breathing and waiting for my reaction. There was certain amusement to him, I didn’t know how I felt it, but somehow I just did, something about him gave off excited anticipation and I imagined a sly smirk stretching his lips as he laid there. Then suddenly as if everything caught up to me, I felt my body jumping into motion, tearing his arm away and flying out of the bed. I grabbed the first thing I could see, which were my shoes, and turned around to try my best in defending myself against this stranger that’s apparently been sneaking into my bed deep into the night.
But the moment my eyes fell on the bed, it was empty. No sign of anyone being there. Frightened out of my mind, I searched the room with my eyes, but it was mostly bare and there wasn’t a place that could hide a man. I knew he was bigger than me, I’d felt him behind me and I was sure he couldn’t have been hiding in the sorry state my bedroom was.
For a moment I just stood there and processed before my knees gave up on me and I slid down to the floor, shoes still tightly clutched in my hands, heart beating out of my chest. I wasn’t going insane. My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. There was something not human in my bed.
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Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night sitting on the bed leaning on the wall and watching the room. My eyes frantically jumped to any movement, even the tiniest flickers of shadows would make my hands twitch, fingers tightening around my slippers, ready to jump out and fight for my life. But nothing happened. The only sounds I could hear were coming from the wind tearing into the walls of the house and messing with the trees and branches outside, and at some point the room was so still I almost felt as if I fell through the cracks into a painting and was now stuck inside.
Thus I had hours to sit there and stew in my fear and humiliation. Whatever the being was, it must have had nefarious intentions, why else would he sneak in like that and make my dreams turn to such depravity? And here I was, fooling myself into thinking it was okay to feel such cravings and giving into them, anticipating them and with bated breath hoping maybe the next night the dream lover will finally cave and touch me in a way I’d barely ever felt in my life. Instead I almost gave myself over to a demon, let him have my body and feed off of my energy, damn my soul and prove that I truly was cursed.
I also had a lot of time to think of my next steps. But what could I really do? I could never tell Minhwan and ask for his help, he’d chase me out as an impure woman. Once I’d tell him the nature of the encounters,  he’d accuse me of adultery and use it as an opportunity to get rid of me. If I was returned to my father in such a manner, death would be more welcoming than facing his rage and humiliating the family. Telling him would do more harm than good.
I could buy myself talismans and hide them around the house, but there were many, each of them used for a different ailment. I’d have to visit the village shaman and pay her to exorcise me and our home. I’d have to explain to her the troubles I’ve been having so she could paint me appropriate protective talismans. It was obvious that the being must have been a demon of lust and once I admitted that, the delicious  gossip would no doubt spread and I would be as good as dead.
No, I couldn’t tell anyone what was happening. I had to chase him out myself, no matter what it took. Come morning, I was completely exhausted but determined to deal with the situation myself.
When Minhwan barged into the house, pale in complexion and with dark bags under his eyes, I was already preparing the breakfast on the small table, looking similarly dead on my feet. The man’s eyes flitted over me, but he didn’t seem to take notice od my state and only grunted, pleased at not having to wait for food or scream for me to leave the bed.
I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even notice when he left for the yard, didn’t even have time to process the usual air of coldness and disinterest he brought with him, as I was too preoccupied thinking of the unwelcome guest. The little tricks with misplacing things must have also been him. I felt rage lick at the edge of my mind, suddenly making itself known in such an intensity I surprised myself. I’d fully start to believe I was no longer capable of feeling such strong emotions, but here I was. Thinking of million ways to get back at someone who’s been making a fool of me for his own entertainment for the past weeks.
The next few days were suspiciously uneventful. No more visits, no more “dreams”, even all my tools stayed suspiciously still and didn’t suddenly appear at places they weren’t supposed to be, but I wasn’t a fool. I knew he wouldn’t give up so easily, not to mention I still couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being watched or messed with.
And slowly he had begun giving me subtle hints he was still as present as ever. The books that were put in order, the robe that was waiting for me on by the partition one evening, water refilled in a cup I knew I’d finished. He suddenly switched to being helpful instead of messing with me, but I knew it was all just entertainment to him.
One of the bigger ones was some days later in the evening. I’d taken to walking around the veranda checking on the yard and the forest outside of the yard walls. As usual, there were footsteps in the snow, my husband left them there every night when he left, but that evening there was something different about them. I frowned, trying to discern what about them caught my attention. I leaned over the railing to inspect them closer with a sense of foreboding looming over my head like a silent monument. The moment I realised what it was I gasped and dread and anticipation filled me. The footsteps, they didn’t lead from the house. They led towards the main entrance.
This must be it, I thought to myself. This must be the night.
When I walked back inside, I lingered around each room a little, watching the surroundings like a hawk and expecting him to jump out at me from every corner and every shadow. But the house was still and silent, not even any sounds from outside creeping in. I slowly walked towards the bedroom and found it empty and in the same state as I’d left it. I made it through my little nightly ritual without a hitch, but anxious and expecting something to happen any moment. It didn’t. Lying down in bed, I continued sharply watching the room, but to no avail. Even though I could basically taste the anticipation in the still air of the room, and knew the demon was most definitely watching me back, he didn’t make any move. I fell asleep suddenly, without realising I was even teetering on the edge and when I woke up, I wasn’t sure whether the fingers I felt gently carding through my hair just as I succumbed to sleep were my imagination or not.
He didn’t return abruptly, instead he slowly built it up, as if testing how far I’d let this go. Sometimes he would hand me things when cooking or I would be looking for something only to find it gingerly sitting on the table a few hours later, as if suddenly becoming helpful would make me more accepting of whatever his end goal was and I would let him return like nothing happened.
The problem began when he started leaving flowers for me. The gentle quivering of my heart when I saw a beautiful little flower in bloom laying by my bedside was alarming to me, and I didn’t want such a confusing feeling to enter my life. But I couldn’t help myself.
Without thinking I picked it up and brought it to my nose. It smelled sweetly, almost too ripe, the scent permeating the air and everything around it, making me slightly dizzy. I couldn’t remember when was the last time I received a flower like this, maybe when my little brother was still a child and brought it for me from playing in the fields. Our father scolded him then, for running around with other boys instead of studying, but after that whenever either of us saw the little white blossom, we would giggle at each other, sharing smiles like tiny secrets.
I was startled by a tear sliding down my cheek at the memory, the sudden reminiscing of my family, of the one person I was truly close to before he joined the military and went to Hanyang. He was to be married soon too, already at that age when the promises turn to actions and I couldn’t wait for the spring to come so I could travel for his wedding. I’d met the girl before, she was a shy quiet daughter of a smaller aristocratic family who just recently got their title for their merits. I quite liked her, even if I didn’t get much time with her before leaving.
He was the one person in our family who had a chance of a happy marriage, I hoped he would. No matter what our father tried to create out of him, he was a sensitive boy, full of mischief and laughs. I so desperately wanted his life to turn out better than mine did. Or that his marriage wouldn’t end up like our eldest brother’s did. He had married first, when we still scrounged for money, I remembered going to his wedding as a young maiden and being swept away in the celebrations, wishing for my own wedding with red blushing cheeks as young girls did. His wife was a practical woman, strong and resolute, but kind. They never had much affections between them, but they had an understanding and their marriage functioned well. I believed my brother respected her as a husband should his wife, but I was wrong.
After our title was restored, our father started pushing my brother to divorce her so he could marry a lady from an aristocratic family, but he couldn’t do that. She had given him children and wasn’t causing him any troubles, so a divorce wouldn’t be allowed. So my brother did the next best thing. He married a woman of a high standing and made her his main wife, pushing the first wife into a secondary position in the family and robbing her children of their inheritance of the title. Since then she became quiet and withdrawn, no longer she was allowed to make any decisions and lived only to serve a man that didn’t even look her way anymore, couldn’t even explain to his firstborn son that he no longer would inherit his estate and left her to pick up the ashes and survive such disgrace.
It was terrifying when it happened. While she never showed much gentleness, she always smiled at the children and sometimes would sneak me sweets like I was one of her own, even when I was the second oldest child of the family. My heart bled for her, and I started to fear my own marriage, knowing I would never get any aristocrat’s respect due to our family history. At that time, I had no idea that what would happen to me would be even worse.
I was startled by a sudden touch on my cheek, a finger wiping away the few stray tears falling down while I sat on the ground and stared at the pretty flower. I gasped and tried to flinch away, but another arm snaked around my waist and I could feel his head leaning on my shoulder. He sat behind me once again, like always, holding me as if he didn’t want me to see him.
“Shhhhhh…,” came his deep honeyed voice, whispering in such a gentle way that I could feel a wave of goosebumps hitting me, “I didn’t know it would make you cry.” Against my better judgment, I could feel my body relaxing into his embrace and a few more tears slipping out. He rocked us from side to side, trying to console me, but it was like my dams broke and soon I was sobbing in his arms, pushing my face into his shoulder and clutching the single blossom in my shaky hands.
I couldn’t say when the last time I was held so tenderly by someone was, but it must have been when I was a child still, begging for my mother’s touch any time something happened. I was warm, wrapped into him, and soft. There was a hand in my hair, carding through the locks and caressing me like a lover would. I couldn’t stop the stream of tears and emotions and I felt ashamed and scared. I couldn’t trust him, and it hurt because no one’s ever treated me so softly, but I knew. Knew it might be just a way to get closer to me. So I decided to allow myself this just for a moment.
I let him hold me, listened to him hum some kind of a song I didn’t recognise, let him lull me into a half-asleep state until I was draped over him, boneless and numb. His hands never strayed like before and he seemed to be genuinely trying to console me. In my mind I scolded myself, believed myself pathetic for falling for such tricks and for being so desperate I would let a demon embrace me just to feel some warmth, but outwardly I didn’t let anything show. I was too drained for that.
When I quieted down and just limply hung off of his frame, he must have decided it was time to sleep. He grabbed me and carried me onto the bedding, making sure my head was pushed into his shoulder so I couldn’t look at his face. I found it strange, but had no energy to ask him anything, just letting him manoeuvre us around until we were lying just like we used to before I caught him, on our side with him behind me. Sleep came and claimed me suddenly and out of nowhere, but I found myself strangely comfortable.
When I awoke in the morning, the house was silent and the bed was empty, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Would I have confronted him and demanded answers? Or did I allow myself to be vulnerable around someone that wished for my downfall and now I found myself inappropriately attached? One thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t like thinking about it, and so I got up and went about my day as if nothing had happened. I did find myself wondering what happened to the flower, as it was nowhere to be found, wondering whether it even was real or if I hallucinated it. But after that night, a fresh blossom was waiting by my bedside every evening, leaving me full of complicated confusing emotions. No sight of my demon, though.
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“Do you want that?” a gruff voice by my shoulder growled and I barely stopped myself from scowling. The hairpin I had been staring at was suddenly plucked from the table by the eager merchant who understood that question as my husband’s intention to buy it for me. The older man pushed it towards me and started reciting all the reasons why such a lady like me absolutely had to have such a decoration, hoping to pitch it to a loving husband doting on his wife. Unfortunately, his guess was completely wrong.
“How much is it?” I asked towards the merchant, who seemed confused by me talking to him while Minhwan stared daggers into my back. His eyes flitted between us, awkward silence taking over for a few seconds before he stuttered out the price, looking at no one in particular. I went to fish out the amount from my purse, but my hand was stopped by another much bigger and rougher one.
“You don’t need it,” Minhwan said resolutely, voice leaving no space for discussion, “Don’t waste money on useless things.” I gritted my teeth, minutely losing control of my expression as rage swept through me at his statement, but as soon as I saw my husband’s eyes narrow in warning, I schooled myself and pulled from the stall.
“Of course,” I answered with false demureness, shooting the merchant an apologetic smile before ducking my head down and following after Minhwan through the market like the picture of the perfect wife. We walked around for some time, from stall to stall, haggling for vegetables and tools, whatever was needed around the house. Minhwan didn’t like it when I spoke to the vendors, he had me trailing behind him with a veil on or my head demurely ducked down like an obedient wife, and I was to speak only when he asked me something. Thus I spent most of the time in the market saying only “yes, we need it” or “no, I think we still have enough”. I hated it, but there was nothing that could be done.
The ride back to the house was also incredibly tense. I could still feel my husband’s rage at my earlier behaviour and knew that the moment we walk back through the gates of our farm, he’ll have some things to say. So I sighed and waited for the endless journey to finally reach its final destination.
To my shock and unease, nothing came when we walked back into the house, supplies in hands and struggling to pull the baskets through the door. Silence was all that greeted me. Minhwan helped me pull things into the kitchen and then with one last burning hateful stare he walked across the house. I watched him rummage through a chest, pulling out his only other jungchimak he usually wore when outing with his friends. It was the better one, in deep indigo colour, that made him look like a young affluent yangban. I snickered behind my hand and pretended to sort through the different bags and baskets we brought back.
When Minhwan was done changing, he charged out of the door without even a second glance. I looked out of the kitchen door facing into the yard and watched him until the gate slammed shut behind him, then I returned to the task at hand with a sigh. He didn’t do this often, but sometimes when I would make him angry, he just left. Without a word. He likely wouldn’t return until late noon tomorrow morning.
I’d long since given up on trying to stop him when the sun was still high up in the sky, he would still leave, just significantly angrier, which would result in him throwing out more money, so it was better to not get in his way when he wanted to drink, smoke and fuck his frustration away god knows where with the other young men.
I busied myself cleaning around the house and caring for the animals, finishing the work he had left. I found myself gritting my teeth in anger and annoyance as I chopped the firewood, wildly swinging the axe around and taking it out on the logs. When the time to go to sleep came, I was drained, both emotionally and physically, too strung out and tensed to even enjoy my nighttime routine like I usually did.
When I turned to the bed, a single hairpin was lying on the bedding. A beautiful, red, lacquered hairpin with a carving of a flower and a single red gem in the centre. The one I’d been looking at while we were in the town and almost bought to spite Minhwan. A mix of emotions overtook me, the most prominent one being sudden anger. My heart stuttered under the weight of it, the frustration of the day and the past weeks bursting through me in one big eruption.
Our uninvited guest was keeping himself surprisingly scarce after that night I had cried, but kept bringing me flowers. I accepted them with complicated feelings, but I had convinced myself into believing that since they’re already here, since they already have been plucked, it would be cruel of me to not accept them. So, night after night I tucked them away so Minhwan could never find them. I didn’t even know where the demon was getting them, since we were in the middle of a tough winter, but after all, I should care for them all the more, right?
But the hairpin was a step too far. I did not need to be reminded of my shameful behaviour and of the fact that my husband felt it appropriate to blow all his money away but couldn’t spare a single silver to let me buy a hairpin, and definitely not in such a way.
“Okay, come out,” I spoke loudly into the empty room, “We need to talk. This can’t keep happening.” I looked around, but everything stayed silent and still. Then, a soft voice rang out.
“Close your eyes.”
I stood up and crossed my arms defensively, spinning around to try and catch a glimpse of the being.
“Why?” I asked gruffly, speaking to an empty bedroom like a lunatic, “Why do you not want me to see you?”
“I can’t let you see me until you truly want to,” the answer came, the voice just as melodic and soft as it was before, as it was always, and I involuntarily shuddered.
“I do want to see you, right now,” I replied, ticked off. He just wanted to have the upper hand and not face me head on, I was sure of that. There was silence again, seemingly even the wind outside the door quieting down to listen to us, the room unnaturally still.
“You want to scold me,” he answered petulantly after a moment, sounding more like a child. I could hear the pout on his lips, the childlike upset of doing something wrong and not understanding why. My resolve softened a little, but I pulled myself together, determined not to let the demon play me like that. I couldn’t keep letting him get away with everything.
“So you know,” I stated, the anger seeping back into my voice, “You cannot keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” I could hear genuine curiosity in his question, one that filled me with exasperation.
I gestured to the hairpin wildly. “This!” I exclaimed loudly, “The leaving of gifts, the creeping around, nothing of it. Leave while I’m still asking nicely.” Even as the words left my mouth, they felt like an empty threat. What could I possibly do against him? I’d let him go this far, what could I do to stop him now? But he completely ignored the second part and focused solely on the gifts.
“Do you not like them?” there was slight dejection present in his voice, like he didn’t understand why it was such a problem, “I thought you did. You never threw them out.” I cursed my soft heart. I should have never let him get away with bringing me flowers, I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that. I should have been resolute and told him to leave right then, not let him coddle me and embrace me when I felt sad.
I hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer. I found myself not wanting to upset him by saying no, falling victim to his sweet demeanour. Again. I groaned with frustration and hit my forehead with my palm.
“It’s not that I don’t like them,” I started a little softer than before, “It’s just embarrassing.”
“Why?” I groaned again. Good lord, this was going to take a while.
“Because…” I stuttered for a moment, the vulnerability of words on my tongue shocking me, “It feels humiliating. My own husband wouldn’t buy it for me and it feels like an insult for a demon to do that.” There was a beat of silence, in which I almost managed to persuade myself that there was never anyone there and I had been talking to myself the whole time, but then he spoke again.
“I didn’t mean to humiliate you,” his voice was quiet, contemplative, “I wanted to make you happy.” That shocked me enough to have me stutter over a few breaths, wildly looking around the room with wide eyes. “W-why?” I managed to squeak out, flabbergasted at such admission.
“It felt like you needed it,” came his simple reply, as if talking about the weather. That statement drained the whole fight out of me, leaving me standing there unsure and confused, filled with shame and wonder at the simplicity of it all.
“What?” I whispered, not really looking for an answer, just voicing out my inner turmoil.
“It felt like you needed it,” he replied a little louder, “You were always so sad. I didn’t like it. You shouldn’t be so sad.” It was such a simple statement and yet it pulled down the walls of my heart and made it flutter. I chided myself for being so easy to fool with a few sweet words, but I couldn’t stop the lightness taking over my heart, the relief bleeding into my every pore.
Someone saw my suffering, I thought to myself. Someone noticed my pain.
“What are you?” I whispered the question into the empty house, but no man stepped out into the light, no shadow moved. He was silent for a moment and then said: “Close your eyes.” And this time I did.
The moment my lids fluttered closed, I could hear slight shuffling of clothing behind me and light footsteps. On instinct I went to turn around, but a hand suddenly tightly covered my eyes, startling me slightly. I jumped a little, pushing myself back straight into his chest, which embarrassingly enough was a position I’d gotten used to over the past weeks. Then a silken ribbon touched my cheek and the hand moved quickly to tie it over my eyes.
“So you don’t try to cut this meeting short,” he explained lightly, voice full of amusement.
“But I do want to see you, is it not enough that I no longer wish to scold you?” I asked, confused by the strange rules.
“You need to desire to see me, truly, with your soul,” he said lowly, voice deepening into the honeyed register I was used to hearing from him and I shuddered lightly, feeling the words trickle down my skin and bite into my very being.
“S-so I can only see you when I want t-to-“ I couldn’t bring myself to finish that thought, the sinful image burning into my brain making me stutter and blush so fiercely I felt as if I burst into flames. I ducked my head, but his chuckle followed me, melting over me. There was no longer any amusement in his voice, now there was something darker and heavier, threatening to consume me from the inside out.
“Smart girl,” he whispered and I couldn’t help the wave of goosebumps that hit my skin when I felt his breath on my ear and neck. The sudden turn from his earlier more innocent voice and words left me confused and flabbergasted, blushing at his newfound confidence. I felt him lean closer into me, nose almost touching the crook of my neck, only to whisper: “Time to sleep.”
Before I could react, he swooped me into his arms and I yelped in surprise, before hiding my face in my hands in embarrassment. He carried me to the bed and very gently laid me there, his hands smoothing down my nightgown and pulling the blanket over us. My face burned, but I stayed silent and let him happily chirp behind me as he pulled me closer to his chest and made himself comfortable.
It felt like years before I fell asleep. I just laid there, feeling his chest move and his breathing deepen until I was sure he was sleeping, but even then I didn’t reach back to untie the ribbon. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust his words. That’s how I finally got pulled under, with my heart trembling with careful hope.
Come morning, something new happened. When I woke up, his strong arms were still wrapped around me and as soon as I started wiggling in his grip, he woke up with a content groan and a big stretch, like a cat. I blushed again, which seemed to become more of a permanent thing in his presence. I went to call out to him to scold him, when I realised something. I didn’t know his name. I haven’t asked him for his name all this time.
“Good morning,” came his morning raspy voice, then he burrowed his face somewhere deeper into the bedding and my hair. The ribbon slipped during the night and with my movement it unravelled onto the pillow, making me freeze slightly. I reached for it, playing with it between my fingers a little, before I spoke to him too.
Good morning...” I trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to ask him his name, “d-demon?” I flushed in embarrassment. Truly perfect, why not just call him a pervert if I was going to be like that? Behind me, the man chuckled and wriggled a little, presumably to make himself more comfortable. I couldn’t believe I let myself lie with a man like that, but it was better to just not think about it.
“Taehyung would be a bit better, but I’ll take it,” he replied nonchalantly, but then suddenly stiffened. Before I could truly register his alarm, the entrance door slammed open and heavy footsteps made their way into the house. I panicked and flew out of the bed, but when I turned to warn Taehyung, I was met with an empty bed. The other half was even made as if nobody slept there.
Seconds later, the doors to the bedroom slid open and my disgruntled husband peeked in. His hair was a mess, his face taunt and white, bloodshot eyes adorned with dark circles underneath. He looked like death itself, the exhaustion seeping out of him in waves, but he still managed to scowl when he laid eyes on me still in my nightgown. I wondered what time it was, but concentrated on schooling my expression and not showing my flustered state, my heart still beating wildly in my chest. He regarded me with slight suspicion in his eyes, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.
“Make me a breakfast,” was all he said and then he disappeared into the house. I glanced at my little vanity sitting in a corner of the room and noticed the hairpin sitting gingerly right in the middle of it. I swiped it away quickly putting it with the flowers, and started getting ready for the day. But the thoughts of Taehyung and his words and behaviour wouldn’t leave me for the rest of the day, plaguing me when I was making breakfast, when I was cleaning up the melted snow Minhwan carried into the house on his shoes and clothes, and embarrassingly enough even when I went to wash up that evening, wondering whether he could see me now too.
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The peak of the winter came and went, but the layer of snow stayed thick, blanketed over the world and painting it pure white. I had found myself much fonder of the quietness it brought, how it swallowed all sounds and created a bubble of calm over everything, especially when my husband was gone from the house, which has become more and more frequent. Lately he left earlier and came back later, turning more and more pale with every morning. He didn’t speak to me about what he did, he barely ever spoke at all, but the tension in his shoulders and the troubled angry expression that has made itself home on his face told me that he must have gotten himself into some big trouble. I found myself just as anxious, waiting for him to tell me we would be losing it all because he made a bet or let himself be swindled.
Taehyung, during that time, worked hard on trying to distract me, bringing me little gifts and messing about the house trying to help me. Anytime I would come across clothes that have been rearranged or things that have been cleaned up, but put into the wrong places, I would sigh and jokingly glare around the room, but I couldn’t stop the fluttering of my heart and the fondness that spread through me at hearing his disembodied giggles.
During these evenings he took to covering my mirror, sitting behind me and brushing my hair for me. We would spend this time in comfortable silence, resting against each other and enjoying the simple companionship. It was such an intimate act, like we were lovers taking care of each other, like husband and wife who love each other, I would find myself flustered and blushing, feeling like it was my wedding night all over again. It was such a strong contrast to how tensed and hostile the silence was when my husband was around, that I often shamefully dreamed and pretended that Taehyung was my spouse, that this was a part of our life and our routine. He would caress my hair, my sides, press soft kisses to my shoulders, play with my hands and my fingers, and when we retired for the night, he hugged me tightly, pressing himself into me and making me feel safe and secure.
The longer this went on, the more torn with fervent longing I was, wishing this was my life and not just pity that a passing demon took on me. I was choked up with emotions, the words “stay”, “show yourself to me”, “love me” always on the tip of my tongue, fighting to spill, chest heavy and full like I was about to burst. It hurt. I hurt. I wanted a life I couldn’t have; I wanted a man that would take my soul and leave once he’d gotten what he came for, and I hated myself for it and I hated my life.
Taehyung felt this in me, felt this shift from happiness back into tortured silence, I could feel it in his touch, in how gently his hands and fingers regarded me, how reverent his lips were on the skin of my shoulders and neck, I felt it in his voice whispering praise to me. The desperation to make it all better, the frantic beating of his heart against my back because he feared he did something to upset me. No matter how much I wanted to ease him, the words would just not leave my mouth.
And my body, it betrayed me. It lit up with every touch, heat pumping through my veins with every brush of his lips, I could feel it swirling in my lower belly and oftentimes found myself hoping for his daring hands to explore as they had been doing back then before I caught him. But Taehyung stubbornly never strayed from the safe spots, never returned to his previous antics.
One night when he didn’t show up, I had a lot of time to think about where this was going and how I was dangerously teetering on the edge of improperness. When I sat alone by the bed and worried for him, called out to him and then promptly spiralled into believing he had grown tired of me, the feelings of pain and despair it filled me with shocked me. I missed him. I missed his touch, his presence, his voice. I didn’t want him to leave me. I’d grown attached to him, to a shadow that spoke to me and treated me with gentleness and kindness.
I wanted to see him. I looked at the ribbon lying on my vanity, the one he used every night to cover my eyes so I couldn’t swindle him and peek when he wasn’t paying attention. I wanted it gone.
I wanted. I longed. I needed.
Falling asleep that night was a challenge, I couldn’t find a comfortable position when I suddenly laid alone once again, too used to a warm comforting body behind me. And when tiredness finally overcame me, he visited me in my dreams, his bold hands exploring places that haven’t been tenderly touched before; drawing out sighs out of me, body trembling with unknown pleasure as his fingers dipped between my legs and leisurely moved in little circles over the bundle of nerves. My dream self was moaning and writhing in his arms, begging for him to never stop as the pleasure mounted until it burst out in a bolt of pure ecstasy. I jolted awake, breathing heavily and still shaking from the intense sensations. Startled I realised there was wetness coating my intimate parts and the top of my thighs, the sticky feeling making me blush in embarrassment. My whole body seemed to be tingling from this experience and I couldn’t calm myself down.
“Taehyung?” I called out carefully, checking that he wasn’t around to witness this. When no answer came and the man himself didn’t come out and shown himself, I quickly ran to the vanity to grab the first cloth I found and cleaned myself. My shaky hands couldn’t hold onto anything properly and I couldn’t get my breathing back under control, the experience leaving me full of confusing feelings, longing filled with arousal mixing with shame until I my head was spinning and my chest hurt. After that, I didn’t fall asleep again, instead I sat on the bed and tried to make sense of my own heart.
The only thing that saved me from getting suspicious stares from my husband was that he himself barely looked at me. But it felt different from his usual coldness, he looked haunted and worried, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even realise anyone else was present. It made me anxious. Whatever he’d gotten himself into, it seemed bad and if it came to it, he’d drag me down with him. For the first time in so long I found myself wishing he’d just talk to me, tell me what was happening so I could stop drowning myself in worry. But I knew that if I had come to him and asked him, he would get angry. So I waited for my life to end with bated breath.
Taehyung returned after two days and acted as if he was never gone, as if he didn’t suddenly disappear without a word and left me spinning, thinking he’d never return. When I heard his voice ring out it the empty house for the first time in so long, I couldn’t stop the tears of relief and he spent the whole evening and night holding me and consoling me, whispering into my ear how he’d never leave again.
More than ever I realised the burning desire coursing through my veins whenever he touched me. I wanted him, like wife should want a husband, and it was getting harder to ignore the way my body responded to him. I wasn’t sure if Taehyung was aware of my plight, if he registered how I seemed to stiffen anytime he pushed me closer to himself, how I held my breath when his arms snaked around my waist, how I shuddered when his hands slipped through my hair when he tied the ribbon over my eyes. I didn’t know if he noticed, but if he did, he didn’t say or do anything. Sometimes he would get closer to me, nose at my neck or play with my ear and then he would suddenly stop, as if he remembered himself, and pull away. And I wanted to scream at him. To not go. To do more.
And the more the situation went south in my marriage, the more I realised that my heart has long since been stolen by a being I haven’t even seen, but whose actions spoke louder than thousand words.
And so I decided to take the situation into my own hands. Or, well, to put it into Taehyung’s hands.
Some nights I would dream about him, even when he laid behind me I just wouldn’t have enough. And in those dreams, he would do the things I desired from him. It felt like my dirty little secret, enjoying him in such way in the privacy of my own mind, but knowing he was there. That he could be witnessing me be improper, could be witnessing my needs resurfacing in this manner. He never showed it, but sometimes I wondered if he knew, if he was waiting to make a move. And it excited me even more. The tension kept thickening, and I boiled, I boiled until one day I just… burst.
I had woken up in the middle of the night, woken up by my own dream as usual, hot and breathless, but just short of release, pent up and frustrated and needy. Taehyung behind me stirred, but his breathing stayed deep and stable, arms minutely tightening before he relaxed again. I felt my wetness seeping down my thighs, squeezing them together on instinct to chase the pulsing and throbbing there, choking out a little whimper and squirming in my place.
That seemed to shake Taehyung out of his sleep, I could hear the shuffling of his clothes, his hand flexing on my belly. He raised his head and murmured something, but I couldn’t hear through the rushing of blood in my ears. I was so aroused my head was almost spinning, my mind zeroing only on getting back to the pleasure I had been feeling. I squirmed in his arms again and whined.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” came his quiet raspy voice by my ear and I could feel goosebumps breaking out over my arms. Without saying anything I reached for one of his hands and pulled it lower, until it laid over my thigh. There was silence behind me and neither of us moved for a moment.
“What?” he whispered again, confusion lacing his voice as he started caressing my thigh, thinking I just needed comfort, “Did you have a nightmare?” I shook my head, frustrated at myself for not being able to get the words out of my mouth, so instead I grabbed his hand again and this time I gently laid it over the very top of my thighs, the tips of his fingers just grazing my intimate area. Taehyung froze for a moment, and I held my breath, fearing his reaction.
But then he released a long breath and his hand moved, grabbing onto my nightgown and slowly pulling it up over my legs. “Are you being naughty?” he asked me playfully and I trembled with anticipation, the searing heat seemingly reaching a crescendo with the promise of his touch. The moment I felt him gently caressing up the naked skin of my thigh, I whimpered again and immediately lifted my leg to grant him access to where I wanted him the most.
Behind me, there was a chuckle, so deep and rumbly I felt it in my bones, satisfied and overjoyed with my eagerness. Taehyung nosed up my shoulder, until I could feel him laying searing wet kisses into the crook of my neck. His hand suddenly shot up back to my knee, grabbing it so he could hook it over his legs and keep me spread. I blushed, but another gush of wetness seeped onto the skin of my thighs at the prospect this finally happening.
“Want to have your pretty little cunt played with, hmm?” Taehyung whispered into my hair, the smirk evident in the smugness of his voice. This was his element, and I ducked my head into my arms, embarrassed by the words and the actions, embarrassed by my body screaming for him. He didn’t seem to need an answer, pleased with my shyness and with how my body responded for me, arching into his touch and begging for more. So he indulged, both himself and me.
His fingers descended between my legs suddenly, shocking a moan out of me as they glided through the wet folds until they settled over the little bundle of nerves. He touched me teasingly, circling it lightly, tapping and pressing on it and then sliding his fingers down to play with my entrance, as if testing how much I would be able to take.
I trembled whole, overflowing with relief, pleasure and burning need for more, spilling out of me on sighs and whimpers. I lost the control of my body as it swayed and arched, pushing into his elusive playful fingers. When my whines took on a more desperate tone, Taehyung finally seemed to be satisfied enough to stop teasing. He started playing me masterfully, fingers drawing tight quick circles on my clit, making me choke on my spit, brain not comprehending the sudden onslaught of sensations.
I found myself hurling towards that edge of ecstasy quicker than I’ve experienced before, my whole body singing under his touch, thrumming with the fulfilment of all the desires that had been piling up over the past weeks.
“Let go whenever you need to, don’t be afraid,” Taehyung whispered to me, voice low and aroused, and I arched with a silent scream as the release overtook me, bursting through my body in a single white flash. Taehyung carried me through it, fingers slowing down but never stopping, little quiet groans leaving him at seeing me blissed out. When the pleasure ebbed away gradually, I pushed his hand away with a quiet whine, feeling too much all at once.
He led me down from the high gently, hands running over my body, over my sides, his voice murmuring loving words into my ear, telling me how lovely I was, how well I did for him. I soaked it all up, preened under his care and attention and loved every moment of it, the fear and insecurity about his intentions taking the backseat for a few calming moments. My body thrummed with the after-shocks of my climax, and I pleasantly floated on the feelings of relief and release.
I was still catching up to my brain, when the words “I want to see you” tumbled out of my mouth. Taehyung’s hand stopped for a moment and then grabbed onto my arm gently. He hummed, non-committally, fingers suddenly teasing again as he lightly dragged them on my arm up and down.
“Do you really?” he whispered sensually, almost purring, and I gasped at the sensation. Before I could reply, he was suddenly gone. I heard him moving around in the room, the sound of his steps, his stable breathing and the light clanking of items as he moved them. I had no idea what he was doing, but when he was satisfied, he returned to me. Taehyung leaned down to me and grasped my arm, pulling me up to stand.
“Get on your feet, darling,” he told me sweetly, the sudden nickname making me blush as if we weren’t just wrapped in each other in such sinful ways. I stood, knees still a little shaky, but managed to hold my weight. I was a little achy, but it was a pleasant and boneless feeling, as if everything had been drained away and all that was left were soft sweet clouds.
Taehyung’s hands left me, and I could hear him stepping away, his heels hitting the wooden floor heavily. I held my breath in anticipation, my hands trembling, my body still confused from the screaming pleasure it was put through just moments ago.
Then, he spoke.
“You can pull the ribbon down.” His voice was smooth, kind and happy. My arms moved as if they had a mind of their own, lifting up to my head to grasp at the ends of the ribbon to pull. When it fell away, at first I was left blinded by the light for a moment. I blinked; eyes hurt from getting flashed with white after so long in the dark. I hurriedly wiped away the few stray tears and gently pressed on my eyelids to alleviate the pressure. When I opened them again, he stood in front of me.
He was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. I gasped as I took him in, the softness of him.
He had long black hair, half done up into a bun at the back of his head. He was dressed in a black cheollik with red hems and pulled together by a silk red string adorned with dark grey jade, and his underclothes were also in black. He was barefoot, standing on my cold wooden bedroom floor like he didn’t feel the chill at all, when I already started shivering in my thin night robes. My eyes shot back to his face. He was ethereally pretty, all sharp edges but still looking so soft and lovely it stole my breath away. Even though his eyes were shockingly blue, I could see the kindness in them, unlike his mouth that was pulled into a mischievous smirk. Just I as I imagined he so often had.
I could see he started nervously fiddling with his sleeves, face flashing with panic and unsureness. He stepped from foot to foot, looking at the ground bashfully, before looking back up at me with wide round eyes full of pure-hearted earnestness.
“What do you think?” he asked, as if I was looking at fruit at the market. He squirmed in his place again and I couldn’t bare to let him believe that I didn’t think he was the most beautiful man I have ever seen. In a few quick strides I crossed the room to him and threw myself into his arms. He caught me, as always, and I had begun believing he always would, and pressed me closer into him. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled him down by his neck and pressed our lips together.
Taehyung caught on quickly, wrapping his arms around me and taking charge, kissing me like a man starved, passionate and hungry and all-consuming, filling my head and my heart with him and only him. I dreaded my husband’s return, because it would mean my little fantasy dream life would dissolve and Taehyung would have to disappear again, but for now I focused on his mouth claiming mine with such fervour it left me breathless.
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Seeing Taehyung made things both easier and more difficult. Nothing much changed between us, only now I saw him messing with my things and “helping out” around the house. I heard his endless giggles and sometimes would catch a glimpse of his figure before he disappeared into a different part of the house, and I always trailed behind him and looked for whatever it was he misplaced or swapped.
I found that even though he was visible to me most of the time, he still didn’t talk much, preferring to sit by me and watch me with fond eyes. He would silently take heavy things from my hands and carry them for me, only sending a playful grin my way, or push me away from the cutting board to prepare the ingredients himself with a simple quiet “let me help”. I liked it. Taehyung filled the space with his presence, with kind eyes and gentle laughs and comfortableness I haven’t felt with anyone else. Sometimes laughs would just bubble out of my throat at his antics or at his expressions and I stopped, surprised at my own ability to laugh. I was happy. I felt content.
I loved him, and I knew that. I wanted my life to be like this from now on until the end of time. More and more often I found myself thinking how married life wouldn’t be that bad if my husband was Taehyung, and I blushed at those thoughts, but couldn’t fully fight them away. I imagined him chopping the firewood in the yard (he already did that for me after he saw me with an axe one), taking care of the animals (it wasn’t unusual for him to feed the hens and the pigs after sundown, since Minhwan was already long gone around then) and then coming home to happily eat supper I worked so hard on (he loved my cooking and never failed to compliment me). I loved watching him walking around the farm as if it was him who owned it, him who married me. Him who loved me.
And during the nights… Taehyung was more than happy to dote on me, naughty hands suddenly insatiable once I showed interest, bringing me to the peak of pleasure every morning, wandering around my curves and gently squeezing and loving on every inch he could reach. I melted in his hands, my brain suddenly interested only in how to get him to please me again. But he never moved it further, no matter how much I gently probed, tried to touch him back or insinuated that I would like to do more, he always grasped my hands and pulled me into a tight hug until we ended up falling asleep.
I was confused. I wasn’t a virgin. I knew how it worked between men and women and I trusted him with my body and my pleasure, and I wanted to return it too, learn how to please him too, but he didn’t seem to want that to happen. He would always give me this unsure smile and then hold me all the tighter and I didn’t want to push him.
But while I found my domestic bliss in Taehyung’s presence, it was harshly brought down every time my husband returned home. Even though he’d become strangely withdrawn, he always seemed to fill the house with gloom and uncomfortable tension, choking every spare inch in despair. I was dancing on eggshells around him, trying my hardest not to draw his attention lest he redirects his ire to me.
This explosiveness was also new. He’d been angry at me before, but never like this, never with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands, spewing poison until I was trembling with fear and shame, and then walking out. He would scream at me for the food not being warm, about spilling something on the floor, about not cleaning proficiently enough, and I begun to dread his returns, because he would always smell of alcohol, opium and other vices, and immediately find something to vent on, only to become silent and absent the moment after.
I could see on Taehyung he was worried for me. I wasn’t a fool, I knew he was present and heard everything, I could feel it in his sad tender eyes, in his loving caresses and the little gifts he would leave me. I wanted to assure him that everything was okay, that this was just my life and I had to deal with that, that him being around the house was already making a dreadful reality all the more bearable, but sometimes he just zoned out and I saw the cogs turning in his head, trying to come up with a way to somehow deal with this. But there was nothing that could be done.
While Minhwan spiralled and came home looking worse and worse every day, Taehyung tried his best to raise me up and make me feel better. And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.
One afternoon we were enjoying a particular sunny day, the door to the kitchen cracked open to let in the crisp freezing air, but I couldn’t feel the chill, not with Taehyung plastered to my back. He hung off of me, hugging me and whining playfully, his hands ever so often straying to my thighs or breasts, trying to rile me up while I made broth. I would always slap them away, but I couldn’t hide the blush on my cheeks or the way my body started responding to him and demanding his attention lower.
I was playing with the idea of letting him pleasure me right in the kitchen in the middle of the day, when Taehyung behind me stiffened, arms tightening around me. At first I didn’t register it, but when the sound of snow crunching under someone’s shoes reached my ears, I panicked. Throwing the wooden spoon away I turned and pushed Taehyung away from me.
“Quick, disappear! Minhwan must have returned!” I whispered urgently, almost sobbing with frustration when the dark-haired man just continued standing there as we both listened to the footsteps getting closer. He was looking out the door, his face curious but impassive, as if he didn’t realise the impending doom.
“Taehyung!” I cried out desperately, pushing him away just as the doors slammed opened. I froze and turned to the door, while Taehyung’s arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into his chest. At first I recognised the gesture as protective, but then I realised it was too casual.
I forced myself to see through the panic and registered that in the door stood a complete stranger. He regarded us both with a bored expression, his eyes sliding down my panicked frozen face and then skipping to Taehyung, sneering lightly in a pretend angry manner.
“So this is where you spend your days, I haven’t seen you in forever,” he grumbled a touch whinily and made himself comfortable on one of the seating pillows in the corner. He had elegant gestures and moved about in a graceful manner, he was also dressed in expensive clothes, showing off to everyone his status as a son of a wealthy yangban family. His face was sharp and impassive, but I could see a strange spark of something in his feline eyes.
“Hyung,” Taehyung said cutely and pulled me towards the man in expensive robes, “this is Y/N.” I stared dumbly between the two men, flabbergasted at the situation I had suddenly found myself in. Hyung? Was this another demon?
The man in question nodded towards me, showing polite interest. He looked intimidating, but whenever his eyes jumped to Taehyung, there was softness in them, and his face would suddenly relax and look more human and boyish.
“This is one of my hyungs,” Taehyung said towards me and then leaned closer until he could whisper into my ear: “He’s a tiger spirit.” I gasped lightly and looked at the man. He gave me a goofy toothy grin, his posture loosening as he made himself more comfortable. I slipped into the hostess mode and started offering drinks and food and he indulged happily, even getting Taehyung to take a glass with him. I listened to their gentle teasing for a while, content with watching him be so happy and carefree.
“So if one wants to see your face around these parts, they have to come here, huh?” said the tiger with a little smirk and winked towards me. I giggled and added: “As long as my husband isn’t home.” I immediately blushed, but the feelings of shame I used to feel over this have ebbed away and now I could only feel a little twinge of it as a phantom pain, before I put it away and focused on the men in my presence.
“Oh, I know your husband very well,” the man said, his face turning into a mysterious sharp hungry grin, “He isn’t home very often.” Taehyung tensed behind me, and I glanced at him, before throwing a confused smile at the visitor.
“What do you mean you know my husband well?” I asked, ignoring the way Taehyung’s hands tightened around me. I refused to turn his way, instead focusing my all attention at the dangerous being sat in front of us.
“He plays cards out of his league,” the man stated, eyes glinting with some feral contentment, “He lost a lot of money to a lot of people. An especially big sum to a certain very dangerous man that likes to prowl around those parlours.” It felt as if I was thrown into a freezing water, the panic seizing me at this information. I had known, to a certain extent, that he must have gotten himself into something, but losing in cards and owing money to someone dangerous, that would absolutely destroy my life alongside his. Distressed, I looked to Taehyung, who immediately pushed his hand into my hair in an attempt to comfort me.
“Hyung, stop that,” he scolded the man gently, “Stop scaring her.” I blinked at Taehyung owlishly.
“You knew?” I whispered the question, my heart aching when the dark-haired man looked away with guilt etched into his handsome face.
“I told him,” the older man piped up again, gently inserting himself back into the conversation he himself started, “I happen to have an insight into the situation. Don’t fear, dear, this is between your husband and the forces he messed with.” The vague statement did nothing to ease my anxiety and my eyes flitted between the two men again, but I chose to not say anything anymore. They shared a resolute look, full of determination, and then moved on from the topic.
Mr. Min, as I finally learnt his name, stayed for a better part of the afternoon, only departing once the night fell with only the moon lighting his way. His sharp eyes seemed to glow in the dark and once again I was reminded that he was a spirit of the mountain. I snickered gently at that. Look at me, the cursed widow dining with a demon and a tiger. If the old ladies in my home village knew that, they would lose their minds.
Taehyung wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we watched his friend go, looking at my amusement fondly, but the way his hand squeezed me I could tell he was worried about the conversation we had. I looked at him, truly looked at him, and contemplated whether to bring it up again.
He sensed it, his face turning a little guilty and sheepish again, before turning to me, grabbing both of my shoulders and saying: “Y/N, do you trust me?” Did I? Of course I did. I loved him, I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone. He never failed me, never gave me a reason not to trust him. So I nodded firmly.
“Then know that it will be taken care of,” he stated, voice gentle and kind, “I wouldn’t let this impact you.” I nodded again, looking at him fondly before caving in and seeking the warmth of his embrace. He held me tightly, then and through the night, whispering words of love. I trusted them.
I should have known that this would smudge lines, that me living my little fantasy with Taehyung and him living in the house fully visible would lead to us being careless and slipping. But still, when it happened, I was sorely unprepared for the whirlwind it started.
We depended too much on the belief that Minhwan wouldn’t return home early. He didn’t, in the past weeks. Every morning, I would watch the sun climb pretty high up on the sky before the door slammed open and he trudged in wordlessly demanding food. Taehyung spent the mornings lazily spread out in the bed, stretching like an over-sized cat, grinning at me lazily and watching me get ready for the day. And usually I would be woken up by his gentle hands or kisses, or by the sun shining through to my face, or the cold would make me turn and snuggle deeper into my lover’s arms.
So when I got woken up by a scream, I was shocked and confused to my core. I jerked up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and looking for the source of the commotion, heart beating out of my chest and throat tight. It was a cry of rage, a man’s ire bursting through the quiet comfortable space of early morning.
There was a flash of movement and then suddenly I was being painfully pulled out of the bed by my upper arm. I cried out, legs fighting to get into working order and stop the pain from the uncomfortable angle. Suddenly I was face to face with a seething Minhwan, his face red and bloated, twisted into a grimace of pure primal rage. He grabbed onto both of my shoulders, nails digging into my skin until I feared he would draw blood, shaking me violently.
He screamed something, but I was too tired and shocked to fully comprehend what has happened. Panic started pumping through my veins, my breathing getting out of my control as I choked on the instinctual fear of being met with a man in such an emotional state. He shook me again and I got dizzy. Behind me the bed was empty, but very obviously slept in.
 As if wading through a thick fog, I finally realised he must have seen Taehyung in the bed and my knees buckled. He let me fall, let me knock painfully into the wooden floor as he paced around the door. Thoughts going a mile a minute I scrambled to try and come up with something, with anything instead of just sitting there staring dumbly. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, slipping slowly down as my mouth opened and closed. My head hurt, my chest was so tight I could barely breathe and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might just tear right out of my body. I looked at my shaking hands and released a few strained breaths.
“Are you even listening to me?!” Minhwan was suddenly screaming right into my face and I flinched. It was as if a filter lifted off of the world and the sound was suddenly getting to me fully, the thumping of his feet on the floor, his ragged breathing, his enraged mumblings. I stared at him blankly for a moment and in a split second decided to play it the only way I could.
“W-what happened?” I asked quietly, still looking at him with wide confused eyes, movements sluggish. I put a hand to my head, shaking it from side to side. At least I didn’t have to pretend I had a headache.
Minhwan stopped pacing and regarded me with suspicion. Come on, I prayed to myself, I know you must have seen him disappear in front of your eyes. He watched me for a moment, and I made sure to look as disoriented as I could, blinking blearily around and pulling a blanket closer over my rapidly cooling body. The seconds ticked away as he just looked around the room, watched the bed, the doors, as if measuring whether the man could have gotten away around him. He wasn’t saying anything for the longest time, and I felt like I was losing my mind, fearing any moment he’ll decide I was a liar and do god knows what in a fit of rage, but then he looked at me again with eyes filled with more confusion and fear than rage.
“Do you really not know?” he inquired, and his voice was grating to me, rough from speaking and drinking the whole night. I nodded slowly and then asked again: “What happened? Why were you screaming?” His face filled with determination, and he wordlessly walked out of the room. I scrambled to follow after him.
“Where are you going? What’s going on?” I hammered him, looking for a confirmation that I was safe, at least for the moment, but he just silently started fastening his hat back on. Finally, right before walking back out of the door, he turned to me and said: “I’m getting the exorcist.”
The next few hours I spent sitting in the house in panicked silence, wondering what my fate would be beyond this day. What would the shamaness say? How will this go? Do I have to pretend to get exorcised? I tried calling out to Taehyung, but he didn’t respond once. I bit my nails and paced around the house, counting every second ticking by as if waiting for execution.
By the time the door slid open again and stone-faced Minhwan stepped in, my nerves were completely frayed, and I could barely support my own weight on my shaking knees. My head snapped into the direction of the noise, and I saw a man and a woman step inside. The moment their eyes landed on me, they bowed slightly to me, but said nothing and instead followed my husband through the house into the bedroom. I hurriedly trailed after them, shaky hands with nails bitten almost bloody grasping onto my skirt to ground myself at least a little bit.
When I stepped into the room, Minhwan was gesturing to the bed, still unmade as I was too panicked to clean, and explaining what had happened.
“I walked in and saw four feet instead of two,” he said darkly, anger shining through to the surface again, “They were clearly man’s feet. I threw a shoe at him and started screaming, but then he was just gone. He disappeared into thin air. When she woke up, she was disoriented and had no idea what was going on.” I listened to him with a lump in my throat and when they all turned to look at me standing in the door, my knees almost buckled. I hoped that my nervousness would be interpreted as my unawareness, but when the woman’s eyes bore into me with a startling intensity, I couldn’t help but flinch and look down.
She came over to me and an expectant silence fell over the room, all of us collectively holding our breath and waiting for her judgement. She grabbed my chin, not roughly but definitely not gently, and moved my head so that I was looking at her. Her eyes flitted across my face, in search of something. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but I wondered how I must have looked to her. Did I look guilty? Did I look sick? What did she see?
She examined me for a moment and then let me go and stepped back to the man. She looked at him and nodded.
“It is a demon of sickness,” the man spoke, “He was draining your wife’s life energy, eventually saddling her with plague or similar illness. It is good you caught him before he did irreparable damage to her.” I touched my own face, wondering how bad I looked for her to come to the conclusion I was getting drained in such a way, but felt immense relief. Before I caught myself, I swayed, the feelings of anxiety crashing onto me, leaving my body too weak to stay upright. I crashed into the door and barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor full force. The woman rushed to me and pulled me up, holding onto my arm and helping me stand in a manner she must have believed was comforting.
“Don’t worry, darling, he will not get you,” she whispered in a raspy old voice, “We will take care of this.” I mumbled something out, an insincere thanks, and propped myself up by the door. Instinctively I looked to Minhwan and found him already looking at, eyes coldly assessing me. He was scaring me, I had no idea where I stood with him and what was going through his mind, but I hoped this would buy me some time. I looked back to the floor and started smoothing out my skirts with shaky hands.
“We will get the supplies we’ll need and return tomorrow with the dawn,” the man spoke again, looking mainly to Minhwan, “For tonight, hang garlic and onion around the house. The foul smell will keep the demons away. I will draw you a talisman for your door and main gate, plaster it on the wood and keep it there until we come.” My husband curtly nodded.
The pair started moving towards the door to leave and Minhwan followed them out. I took the time to slide down to the door. I was trying to keep myself calm, but the stressed tears came anyway, rolling down my cheeks and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Once Minhwan returned, I was silently sobbing on the floor, too overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in these few hours.
Minhwan regarded me silently and then moved to the main room, sat by the fireplace and didn’t speak again. I sat there, filled with dread, and waited. Waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to fly off of his handle and do something, but the house was eerily silent. In the end I pulled myself together and moved about my day as if nothing was happening, as if Minhwan wasn’t sitting in the other room counting minutes before sun went down. The uncomfortable atmosphere stretched over us like a suffocating blanket and even though I went with the motions, cooked food and served it, I wasn’t even interested in eating, and neither seemed to be Minhwan.
With dark setting over the dwelling, the moon shining over the snow and creating a silver glow over everything, I found myself anxiously glancing at my husband to see whether he would leave, but he stayed firmly sat. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had to have a talk with Taehyung, confide in him and see what he thinks we should do. I desperately craved his comfort and calming presence, I needed him to hold me and kiss me and whisper about all the things he loved, I needed him to whisk me away into the woods and keep me away from this life I had found myself in.
As I paced around the bedroom nervously, I realised that. I wanted to leave with him. I wanted to flee into his reality and leave my own behind. I needed to talk to Taehyung soon.
The door slid open, and I flinched and instinctively moved a few steps further into the room. Minhwan looked at me, his eyes empty and dark, and then moved to the corner of the room, sitting down and staring soullessly at me.
“Aren’t you going to get ready for bed?” came his gruff voice when I stood there frozen for too long, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I could hear a certain accusation in it and my heart jumped into my throat. Without saying anything, I mechanically moved to my vanity and started brushing my hair while keeping an eye on my husband’s dark form slouched in the corner. His eyes never left me, slowly with every second ticking by filling with more and more pure hatred.
The room felt as if it was freezing, the air so heavy with tension I could taste it on my tongue. I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest, my clammy hands squeezing around the brush.
“I feel quite stupid now, you see,” Minhwan started suddenly, his cold voice startling me. I turned around to look at him, trying to keep my expression neutral but knowing I probably looked truly scared and guilty. He stared at me expectantly, but when I failed to say anything, he continued.
“I saw it,” he simply stated, “the hairpin.” It felt as if time stopped, the blood freezing in my veins with one simple word. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but I ultimately failed to say anything. He knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to the market to buy it myself, there was nothing I could say to excuse that.
“I saw how certain mornings you seemed to be flustered,” he continued quietly, “how you changed, I saw the flowers you tried to hide.” He chuckled darkly, mirthlessly, but stayed sprawled out in the corner, watching me. I sat frozen in front of my vanity, brush still in hand, thoughts going a mile a minute.
“I ignored it, of course,” Minhwan carried on, seemingly okay with being the only one to talk, “I know how hard it is to get here and there’s no one close enough to sneak here like this. But when I went to town for the shamaness, I started remembering these moments. I saw the hairpin in my mind, as clear as day. And it made sense. Whatever he is, you knew about him.” I gulped, but said nothing, staring at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movements and I looked up startled. Minhwan was now moving towards me, slow and calculated, and dread filled me.
I looked up at him and couldn’t help a few stray tears escaping me. Minhwan watched me coldly, but it was so different than what I was used to from him and it terrified me. This was a different kind of rage, the kind that made people unpredictable, the kind when you know the person is so angry they’ve become calm.
He slowly threaded his hand into my hair, gripping it tightly until I could feel slight pain. He angled my head, watching the tears slide down my face with a scowl. Then he pushed my head away and released my hair, sending me crashing into the vanity. I caught myself on my hands, but the impact still hurt and I whimpered through the tears.
I heard Minhwan moving about the room, thrashing the chest I kept some of my belongings in, tearing through my fine robes and sending little reminders and keepsakes flying through the room and crashing into the floor and the walls. With every crash I flinched again and again, shrinking into myself and slowly slinking into the corner behind my vanity.
Minhwan finally got to what he was looking for – the dried flowers and other little gifts Taehyung has been bringing me. Whatever he got his hands on, he destroyed, tearing the flowers apart or breaking things by throwing them on the floor. I watched him helplessly, now fully sobbing as I witnessed my life being torn apart.
Minhwan paid me no mind, his eyes catching onto something in the chest. He bent over to pull out the object, and I eyed him carefully before I realised what it was. The hairpin. He glanced over at me and when he saw my eyes trained to it, he smirked with such malice it made shiver. He gripped it with both hands and then with a quick gesture broke it in half. Before I could stop myself, I cried out with my hands outstretched going to grab it, grab him, just do anything to stop it from happening, but I couldn’t. Minhwan threw the broken pin on the floor, and I watched the little gem break away and fall through the tiles.
Minhwan walked over to me again and crouched down so he could look at me closer.
“Did he get you pregnant?” he suddenly asked, and it was such an unexpected question it shocked me into silence as I just stared at him dumbly. Then I just slowly shook my head. Minhwan’s face stayed impassive. He just stared at me until I started squirming in my place, my skin crawling with fear and nervousness.
Then he just got up and walked out.
I stayed put, not daring to move from my place, but I strained my ears to hear whatever he was doing. He walked around the main room for a moment and then his footsteps seemed to get further away until I heard the door slide open, slide shut and then silence. I held my breath, waiting for a moment before I allowed myself to decompress, immediately slumping down onto the ground. With the stress rapidly draining from my body, I found myself a shaking crying mess. I crawled over to the chest and grabbed onto whatever destroyed piece of memory I could, cradling them to my chest and desperately hoping that I could mend it, that it would all go away. That I’d wake up in Taehyung’s arms and he’d console me and tell me it was all a bad dream.
I didn’t sleep that night. And Minhwan didn’t return in the morning. The shamaness and her husband came knocking with the dawn and I sat on the porch and expressionlessly watched the main gate rattle and shake under their fists, listened to their raised concerned voices calling to be let in. I was drained, empty and exhausted. I waited until they got tired of it and left, and then I continued sitting there watching the trees move, the sun travel the sky. I could barely feel the frost biting at my fingers, my arms, my face. I could barely feel anything.
For two days, I waited. I sat around the house and watched the walls, walked around the yard and looked outside, into the forest and the trees. Minhwan didn’t return. Taehyung didn’t return. I was completely alone, in the silent house, just wondering whether I was forsaken by both of them, wondering what would happen if neither of them came back.
On the dawn of the third day, I heard footsteps in the yard. My stomach dropped and my heart felt like a piece of ice. Footsteps meant Minhwan. Footsteps meant the end of my life, meant my husband was back and there was no telling what he would do.
I drew the blanket closer to myself and resignedly made my way outside. I would accept whatever was to come. Except the moment I slid the door open, I saw a sheepish Taehyung nervously stepping from foot to foot in our yard. I could only guess how I looked, but when he saw me, he closed the distance between us in a few quick strides, arms immediately pulling me into his chest. I felt my resolve break and desperately clawed at him, pulled him closer, just needing to touch him and make sure he was real and he came back.
He pulled back and I whined, but he took my face into his hands, gazing upon me with tenderness and sadness and despair. His fingers smoothed out the worried lines on my face, touched the puffy cheeks and eyes, gently caressed my face until I could see my vision blurring with unshed tears. Taehyung sighed and bent down to lightly kiss my forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly, his voice like soft caress for my soul after days of loneliness and solitude, and sudden onslaught of emotions hit me like a stone wall. I grabbed onto his robe and looked into his kind beautiful eyes.
“Where were you?” it came out choked on a sob and I couldn’t even wait for his answer before the dam broke and I started crying. Taehyung held me through it, he took me in his arms and carried me inside, petted my back and held my face, whispered to me and it almost felt like a huge déjà vu to the first night I let him get closer to me. He apologised again and again, and I should have pressed for more answers, but I was so relieved he returned, I couldn’t bring myself to ask more.
When I calmed down, Taehyung’s attention was finally drawn to the state of the house. I didn’t clean up the bedroom, I barely even slept, and all the broken things were still lying around. It must have been quite a sight – a broken life, and in the middle of it all, a broken me. But instead of saying anything, he just reached over to grab the remnants of the hairpin. I watched him wordlessly, heart struck with grief at the sight of it, but he played with it for a moment, eyes peeking over at me and grinning mischievously. I returned it shakily, heavy emotions still weighing the corners of my mouth down but I tried, head leaning on his shoulder.
He encased the broken parts of it into his hands and shook them little. I thought nothing of it, watching his hands turn from side to side, expecting this to be just a way to distract me, but when his hands stopped, he uncovered his palm with a grand gesture and I gasped. There, lying on his palm, was the hairpin in one piece, looking as if it’s never been broken.
I immediately went to grab it, but he moved his hand away, keeping it out of my reach. Instead, he grabbed my brush and started slowly brushing out my tangled unkept hair. I let him care for me, I sat there on the floor of my thrashed bedroom, leaned on him and listened to him hum as he played with my hair. When Tae was satisfied with it, he tied my hair with his red ribbon and then pushed in the hairpin.
The fondness in his eyes when he looked over his work warmed my heart, and I relaxed into his embrace.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Taehyung whispered again, “I shouldn’t have left you alone.” I shook my head and tightened my arms around him.
“There was nothing you could have done,” I told him and attempted to smile. I wanted to ease his worries, but I still felt too shaken.
“I should have been here,” Taehyung reiterated, “You needed me, and I failed you.” I squeezed his waist, trying to share comfort to him as he did to me. He looked at me fondly with a little smile, then kissed me gently.
“Where were you?” I asked again, this time much more calmly. Taehyung’s face fell immediately and I expected him not to want to tell me, but with some difficulty he started talking.
“I went to my hyung,” he admitted to me, and I realised there was guilt in his expression, “I asked him to sort something out for me.” I looked at him confused, but his face has turned hard and cold, gazing out of the room. I wanted to ask more, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It didn’t matter now, all that mattered was that he returned.
“We need to leave,” I blurted out suddenly, the calmness leaving my body. I turned on my knees and grabbed onto his clothed shoulders, looking into his eyes with urgency. Taehyung smiled at me and attempted to sit me back down, but I wouldn’t let him. “We really need to leave, before my husband returns,” I continued, the words falling out of me quickly, “I don’t know where he went, he hasn’t returned for a few days, but when he returns I cannot say what he will do.”
Taehyung’s hands pushed onto my shoulders, gentle smile on his face, mouth opening to tell me something, no doubt to calm down, but I jumped in before he got a chance.
“No, you don’t understand Taehyung, he knows,” I whispered urgently, “He knows about us. When he returns… Taehyung, I’m scared of what will happen…” I trailed off, hands flexing and bunching up the fabric of his robes. A few stray tears escaped my eyes, and I was surprised I even had some left in me, after the last few days.
Taehyung gave me a soft smile, hands coming up to hold my face. He gently wiped my tears away and bent down to kiss my forehead, my nose and finally my lips. I watched him, despair mixing with love and fear inside of me, making me feel like I was about to explode. I didn’t know how else explain to him that we weren’t safe here.
“I’m ready to leave,” I whispered again, desperate and broken, “Please Taehyung, I’ll go with you. I’m ready to go. There’s nothing left here.” He said nothing, but caressed my hair, fingers smoothing out the edges of my cold wet face. His eyes were trained on his hands moving on my skin, as if he wasn’t registering what I said at all. I could see in them that he was battling something, lips pursed in a bittersweet smile like they were trying to keep in some awful truths.
My heart gave a few painful pumps before it felt like it stilled completely. My hands fell from him as despair and hurt took over. Suddenly the realisation hit me, the realisation of what this must have been for him. A goodbye. My lips curled around a silent sob, but I couldn’t cry more, there was nothing left inside.
Taehyung noticed my plight and immediately pulled back into him, and I realised why he looked so guilty when we sat down.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” the words barely left my mouth, so quiet they could be barely heard, but Taehyung reacted to them immediately, arms tightening around me.
“No, darling, of course I’m not,” he replied, but I didn’t want to hear more lies, not now and not ever. My own hands balled into fists in my lap.
“Please, tell me the truth,” I said resolutely, looking straight into his eyes that were coloured by confusion at my statement. “What are you talking about?” Taehyung asked, lost and worried. His hands travelled across my shoulders and back, grabbing onto anywhere they could and then passing on as he tried to comfort me without fully knowing what was happening.
“You didn’t respond before,” I told him, and the realisation seemed to hit him almost instantly. “Oh, darling,” he whispered and kissed me softly again, “of course I want you to leave with me. But…” He seemed to struggle there, looking down to his lap guiltily, fingers digging into my shoulders nervously. I grabbed onto his shoulders too and pressed a little closer, until our faces were just a breath away.
“What is it?” I asked, desperate for a resolution, desperate to leave this all behind and go into the woods with him, follow him wherever he’d take me.
“Your husband…” Taehyung started and I tensed at the mention, but I wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next, “he isn’t coming back.” I scrunched my face up in confusion. Taehyung avoided my eyes again, this time looking towards the door with a quiet resolution painted on his face.
“What are you talking about?” I pushed out of my mouth, mind muddled and tongue tied, “Of course he is, and he’ll bring all hell back with him.” Taehyung sighed, hands flexing into my skin.
“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he reiterated, urgency taking over his sweet, honeyed tone, “He isn’t coming back. Ever.” I froze when I finally put together what he had tried to tell me. I wish I could say I was terrified. I wish I could say that I was filled with dread and panic and disgust instead of relief, I wish I could say that I pushed him away, confused and hurt, instead of letting out a shocked laugh, hands immediately searching for his face. I turned him so he’d look at me.
He was painted with shame and guilt, with fear that I would hate him for the implication, so I gently caressed his face and laid a little kiss over his furrowed brows. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief. My heart was beating fast, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of nervousness or joy. I wondered whether that made me a bad person, whether I was cursed after all. But when Taehyung opened his eyes and gave me a toothy grin, it didn’t seem to matter much.
“What did you do?” I asked the question in a hushed whisper, as if discussing my husband’s demise was a thrilling secret just between the two of us. Based on the dark-haired man’s reaction to it he was expecting to hear a horror-struck tone, not the casualness with which I spoke about this matter, but he shook the surprise quick enough.
“Do you remember my hyung? The tiger?” Taehyung begun his explanation, a small smile taking over his face when I nodded in answer, “He was the one your husband owed money to. It was a matter of time before he’d gotten himself reaped, I just called in an early favour.” I frowned slightly at that.
“You mean that my husband was always destined to die?” the question was asked more out of curiosity than concern, but Taehyung still seemed to be a little on edge, fearing my reaction and attempting to gauge my emotional state. Still, he indulged me.
“He was since the moment he decided to play cards against a spirit,” Taehyung explained, “Tigers don’t play for money. We have no need for earthly possessions. But the more the human loses to you, the more under your power they are. With the mounting debt, the spirit only bides his time, terrorising the soul and pushing them into losing more. Then the spirit only waits until they’ve lost the amount of money that could buy their soul, before reaping. Your husband was a lost cause since Yoongi set his eyes on him.” I took in the information slowly, but to me his death was inconsequential now. Taehyung would take me away, I didn’t have to fear being left behind and collected by a family-in-law and living out the rest of my life as a proper widow, a property of my husband’s relatives. With that my only concern was taken care of and I found myself empty of any big reactions regarding his impending sudden demise.
“Do souls have prices, then?” I inquired more, interested in his earlier statement. Taehyung’s eyes sparkled slightly, as if he was delighted I wanted to know more, delighted that I wasn’t mourning, that I didn’t think him a murderer.
“Yes they do,” he answered simply, “a saint would be hard to tempt, the amount would be higher. A tyrant on the other hand, a sinner, they don’t take much.” I hummed quietly, absent-mindedly playing with some of Taehyung’s long hair. It didn’t take much to know which category my husband fell to. Getting my questions answered, I was satisfied to let this subject go. I felt as if a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and off of my heart. I found myself cautiously hopeful, looking forward to leaving this house and everything in it behind, letting it rot and fall to the ground and never return. But Taehyung seemed to have something else on his mind still.
“It was me,” he confessed quietly and suddenly, leaving me confused what he meant. He looked at me, gauging my reaction, fingers nervously playing with the edge of my jeogori. “It was me who told hyung to seek him out and tempt him into playing,” the man finally got out and it seemed as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders too.
I said nothing, hands migrating to caress his hair gently, smiling softly, and then getting up. I walked across the room to where my possessions laid strewn across the floor as if they were violently gutted from the insides of the chest. I found a cloth big enough and started piling the most important things inside. Taehyung watched me quietly, unsure of where I stood, still believing I could shun him for this. I smiled at him again when I caught his sad eyes watching my hands move. He returned it, in the same cautiously hopeful way I felt, and I could just think to myself. How perfect. We’re perfect like this.
“I just need to grab a few things and we can go,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. His returning one was as bright as the sun itself and I felt my drained heart tiredly jumping in joy.
When I gathered everything, he took the bundle from me gently into one of his hands, the other holding mine as I quietly led him out of the cold empty house. Outside, the air was crisp and freezing, but the sun was shining and it filled me with happiness. The snow was sparkling, reflecting the rays of sunlight, blinding me slightly, but I had everything I needed, and it was a beautiful day outside. I squeezed Taehyung’s hand and he returned it.
Once stood in the gate, I turned back to the house wordlessly. I could see through the open doors the mess that was left inside, the state of the bedroom, and the two trails of footsteps leaving forever. Taehyung watched me carefully, making sure I was okay. I nodded at him and he grinned gently. We both turned and walked away.
He led me through the forest, up the mountain path. I’d never been here before, and it seemed that it was a long time since someone else than the demon himself took this path. Briefly I wondered if it even was visible to other people or if it was one of those paths you see once out of the corner of your eyes and then never find it again, even if curiosity kills you from the inside.
Taehyung was walking confidently now, once we crossed the threshold into his world he gained strength and resolve and led me through the trees until we reached a little clearing with a dwelling firmly in the middle of it.
It was smaller than our farm, but it looked much nicer, with little windchimes and colourful decorations hanging from the beam over the porch. Their clanking created a nice ambience in the background and their colourful flashes reflected off of the snow. I smiled fondly at that, feeling at ease.
The house only really had two smaller rooms and a kitchen, but they were filled with books and clothes and paintings. Taehyung seemed to be a lover of arts, his walls full of various pieces varying from flowers to landscapes and portraits. I peeked at them curiously, but Taehyung seemed eager to pull me along until we reached the other room, where a bed was unfolded but untouched. There was a vanity on one side, very similar to the one I had, ready with a brush and another beautiful hairpin sitting next to it, waiting for their owner. I smiled at that, heart filled with so much love it felt like bursting.
Taehyung carefully laid the bundle with my things on the ground and then skipped back over to me, plastering himself to my back, arms possessively coiling around me and lips and nose immediately running over the expanse of the skin at my shoulder and neck. I shuddered lightly, noting his palpable excitement at bringing me to his home.
“This will be our bedroom from now on,” he whispered in a rough voice, laying a series of wet open-mouthed kisses down my shoulder, “This house will become a home.” His hand splayed over my stomach and pushed me more into his form, his heated body melting over me instantly, lips travelling wherever a sliver of skin presented itself to them.
I shuddered lightly, squirming in his arms. I managed to turn to face him and immediately was met with fond eyes full of unshed tears. I grabbed his face and gently pressed our lips together. I meant for the kiss to stay innocent, but Taehyung clearly had a different idea, descending onto me with an urgency of a starving man, lips devouring mine in a hot all-consuming kiss.
I moaned lightly into his mouth, hands tightening in his clothes and subconsciously pulling him closer to me. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my mouth, sighing with content when it met mine and twisted and pushed around each other. He towered over me, with every second bending down a little more, making me arch into the kiss. The dark-haired man was grabbing onto my hips, as strong as a vice, digging fingers into the layers of fabric with such force I still felt his nails biting into my skin. My own hands slowly travelled up, tangling into his hair and wrapping around his neck. When I pulled on the strand lightly, Taehyung sighed into my mouth and pushed us closer together.
My mind was quickly becoming muddled, only thoughts of the man in my arms swimming around in my brain, body heating up rapidly and begging for his attention in the way that he used to give me. And with the way he held onto me and pressed into me, he was in a similar state.
Without interrupting our kiss, Taehyung started slowly sliding down to the floor and pulled me with him. I gasped slightly and finally broke our kiss to breathe and take in the new position, but Tae didn’t get discouraged and continued his path down my jawline and my neck. I had enough mind to breathlessly move my head out of the way and present my neck for him, which made him hum appreciatively, his low deep voice purring into my skin. All I could really do was hold on to him and let the sensations sail me further.
I could feel his hands inching higher, until they were kneading my waist, thumbs slipping under the jeogori and messing with my undergarments. My whole body trembled like a plucked string, desire wreaking havoc on my psyche. I released a shaky sigh and decided to be a little bit braver. I grabbed one of his hands, Taehyung making a little questioning sound in the back of his throat, but didn’t stop his ministrations, and I pushed it towards the bow tying my top together.
Taehyung paused only for a second, eyes searching mine for any kind of hesitation, but I only blushed under his heated gaze, the lust taking over the control of my body and pushing my chest more into his curious hands. He no longer wasted time after that, leaning a bit back and making quick work of the binding and soon he had me sitting in his lap in only my undergarments. My lips found his again, needing to feel his touch more than I needed to breathe oxygen.
With new skin now visible Taehyung seemed to be over the moon, a little content sighs and quiet moans leaving his mouth as his fingers travelled across the expanse of my shoulder blades and my arms. The intensity of the kiss kept increasing, my body confusedly trying to move with the motions and seek even more pleasure. When Taehyung gently bit on my lower lip, my hips jerked forward on their own and I could feel a hardness sliding across my centre. We both gasped, Taehyung’s hands jumping to my hips to stop them, but I felt as if a lighting struck me to my core, pleasure zapping through me on a jolt. I gasped, hips mindlessly chasing after the feeling again. Taehyung separated the kiss on a groan, his head falling to my shoulder, hands now encouraging my hips to move instead of stopping them.
For a moment we just enjoyed each other, mindlessly kissing here, grabbing onto each other and chasing the pleasure, moving against each other. I managed to get Taehyung out of his outer robes too and he was clad only in a thin undershirt that teased a little bit of his collarbones, which I immediately covered in kisses. We didn’t speak and the room was filled with the sounds of shifting clothes and airy little gasps and moans, but I needed more. I needed so much more.
Taehyung’s lips travelled down to the edge of my undergarment, kissing the soft swell teasing my breasts, and I gasped and arched and curved into him, but I could feel the smirk settling on his face as he moved away again. I whined, mind gone and begging for more solid touch, for his hand between my legs and his lips biting into my shoulders.
I pushed onto his shoulders and as Taehyung wasn’t expecting it, he went easily, slight alarm painting his face, but I just grabbed him and pulled his face back to mine. The moment our lips crashed together, I keened, licking into his mouth desperately. The dark-haired man chuckled, but he seemed to take pity on me.
With one hand gently laid on my lower back, he slowly toppled us over until I was lying on the ground with his weight settling gently on top of me, legs tangled and lips intertwined. With a wet smack our lips separated and for a moment we both just looked at each other breathing hard, but then the time and reality caught up to my overheated excited brain and I immediately started tearing at his clothes, untying anything I got my hands on and pushing the fabric away until his whole torso was on display.
I choked on a moan, the desire reigniting within me tenfold. He was beautiful, strong and lean, honey-toned skin blemishless and perfect. Distracted with all the possibilities and my body screaming at me to have the man take me now, take me as soon as possible, my hands wildly flitted over his chest, kneading the skin but not settling anywhere for too long. I decided to pay back the favour and my lips latched onto his neck, making him shudder and moan. I played around lightly, just like he had, kissing anywhere I could, moving south to his pecks and then back up all the way to his ear with wet open-mouthed kisses, revealing just how far gone I was and how needy he made me with his earlier ministrations.
Taehyung buried his face into the crook of my neck, skin rippling with every touch, releasing low groans right into my ear, which made me work even harder. I was ecstatic that I was finally able to touch him too, ecstatic by the prospect of returning the pleasure he had been bestowing me with all these mornings that would have otherwise been cold and lonely.
With that thought in mind, my hands shifted to his hips, at first seemingly just sitting there and holding onto him, but slowly moving downwards, pushing the pants down. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice at first, but once I got low enough to expose the v of his hips and the thicker part of his happy trail, he let out a loud excited groan, body shaking with anticipation.
His lips pressed into my ear. “Do you want to see me? Touch me?” he whispered, voice rough and aroused. I gasped quietly, legs falling open more so that he could settle his hips more comfortably and I could see the moment I finally pushed them low enough, breath held in excitement.
“Yes, please,” I answered in a similarly debauched hushed voice, “please, Taehyung.” His chest rumbled happily, lips busying themselves with biting and kissing into my neck. I must have been absolutely covered with little red and purple bruises and the thought sent a bolt of arousal through me, my body jerking underneath the bigger man.
“Go ahead then, darling,” he said sensually, regaining back a little control. His hips stiffened, allowing me to pull them down the final stretch, releasing his erection. It hit his lower stomach with a tiny noise, the wet tip leaving a little smear of clear liquid there. I clenched on nothing, a gush of wetness suddenly leaving me at the prospect of having him inside of me. He was watching me closely, a wild look on his face, and the more excited I felt, the hungrier he looked.
Then Taehyung pressed his face to mine again, lips caressing the shell of my ear as he whispered: “Do you want it? Do you want my cock, darling?” I nodded, a whimper escaping me, thighs and pussy throbbing with pure burning need. I was so aroused my head was spinning and every thought inside curled around the pleasure this man was providing me with. He clicked his tongue though, and shook his head a little, giving me a playful grin.
“Then you need to say it,” he stated meanly, eyes sparkling with mischief, “Good girls always ask for it.” The way his tongue wrapped around the words good girl made me borderline delirious, back arching and thighs spreading even further, until my hips hurt and I was gasping with the liquid lust coursing through my veins.
“Please!” I whined out again, hands grabbing onto his searing hot skin and attempting to pull him closer, but he didn’t budge.
“No, no, no, darling,” his voice seemed even darker and richer than usual and I was losing my mind on the little rasp, his tongue peeking out to play with the lobe of my ear quickly sending me spinning, “You need to say it.”
“Please, Taehyung,” I choked out, a few tears of frustrated arousal slipping down my cheeks, “I want you.” He smiled, giving me false sense of victory, but still kept his hips away from mine. I whined again, not knowing what else to do.
“I want to hear the words from your mouth, darling,” he stated firmly, “Say ‘Please Taehyung, I want your cock’.” I gasped at his words, the flush on my face deepening despite the lewdness of the situation I already found myself in. My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips and Taehyung’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth, fascinated.
“I want your cock,” I whispered, the arousal pushing me into boldness I’ve never displayed before, “Please, Taehyung, I want your cock so bad.” He groaned and I saw the exact moment his pupils expanded with pure lust and his eyes were overtaken by desire to have me. While his lips crashed to mine, his hand grabbed one of mine and pulled it towards his cock and wrapping it around it.
I squeezed on instinct and Taehyung moaned into me, hips bucking gently. I took a moment to feel him out, just gently ran my hands over the ridges and curves. I could feel the way Taehyung trembled, the way his breathing stuttered on tiny, muted groans, his eyes firmly shut. His hands grabbed onto my thighs and dug into them through the underskirt still half covering me from his eyes.
When I began sliding my hand up and down the shaft, Taehyung’s head once again fell to my shoulder, open mouth pressing into my skin and releasing rugged moans. His hips jerked forward in tiny motions, thrusting lightly into my curled hands. I was content with touching him, but my body also screamed for attention, thighs shaking and muscles in my belly contracting in pleasurable little ripples. I was so wet I could feel my essence sliding down my thighs and my bottom, leaving a little puddle on the bedding under us.
I squeezed around him lightly and he jerked into my hands harder, a debauched groan leaving him. I spasmed, pussy pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled up to the brim, an answering moan leaving my own lips. Taehyung looked at me through half-lidded eyes, reason completely overridden by the need to push himself into my tight wet heat at the clear need depicted on my face, he shuddered again, pre-cum leaking out the red tip of his painfully erect cock.
His hands scrambled to grab my skirt and push it up my legs until it pooled around my stomach, wet pussy exposed to his needy hands. He didn’t waste any time and pulled his fingers through my folds, teasing my clit for a moment and punching out desperate moans out of me, whole body spasming at the sudden onslaught of pleasure cursing through me, but then his fingers hurriedly slid down and pushed inside of me. At the feeling of his fingers getting so easily swallowed up by my wet cunt he groaned, thrusting them in a little and scissoring to make sure I was absolutely ready to take a cock, but both of us were beyond gone with desire.
I was enjoying the feeling of finally having something inside of me, but it didn’t last for long. After a few hurried thrusts of his fingers, Taehyung pulled his hand away and I whined, arching my back, pussy chasing after him. He quickly swatted my hands from his length and lowered his hips until we were pressing into each other, his cock snuggly sliding through my wet folds.
Our breaths were knocked out of us on deep satisfied groans. He moved his hips back and forth a few times, coating himself in my juices to ensure easier slide, and then pushed inside with one firm motion, cock driving inside of me without any resistance, filling me absolutely all the way up on the first thrust. I threw my head back, mouth open on a silent scream, the contentment of finally having him inside me lighting my every nerve on fire and satisfying something deep inside of my core. I trembled, desperately holding onto him as my brain turned to mush with barely anything.
Taehyung was having more trouble staying silent, mouth open and instantly pumping out groans and moans, shaky hands keeping my hips still and desperately trying to stop himself from immediately mindlessly driving into the divine pleasure that was the feeling of being enveloped by my wet tight walls.
I whimpered and squirmed underneath him, grabbing onto him. I wasn’t even fully aware of myself, body and mind consumed by the heavenly feeling of being filled by him.
“Please!” I whined out loud, desperately needing him to finally start doing something, like there was an itch deep inside of me that needed scratching, “Please, give me more!”
Taehyung chuckled above me, trying to stay suave and smooth but I could hear how breathless he was, could feel his hands tightening and loosening on my hips. His hips trembled against mine, jumping with excitement at my words.
He pulled his hips back and slowly slid back in, making us both sigh with content. He kept the pace slow and deep, covering me with his body and claiming my mouth with his while I fell apart on his well-aimed pace. I moaned on every stroke, arching my hips and spreading my thighs to let him hit deeper, pull him in closer.
The slow build up of the pleasure had me losing my mind. I felt like I was getting gradually submerged into boiling water, the heat steadily rising with every thrust filling me with deep primal satisfaction. My hands roamed over Taehyung’s body, appreciating his smooth skin and muscles as they jumped with movement, soaking up Taehyung’s little hick-uped groans when I passed over sensitive areas.
Taehyung changed the angle a little bit and when he pressed all the way inside, his tip pressed into a spot that had me keening loudly underneath him, eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open. My hands instinctively grabbed onto his waist and squeezed, nails digging into his skin, and Taehyung groaned loudly, hips jerking into me roughly, punching out a whiny moan out of me.
That seemed to break us into a frenzy, my hands sliding down his body and grabbing onto his ass, pushing him into me and encouraging his movements. Taehyung happily took the sign and started thrusting faster and harder, filling the room with sounds of our moans and the wet slapping of our hips. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out of my mouth, his every stroke hitting deep inside me and lighting my every nerve on fire, stoking the lust and the bliss in pulsing consuming waves.
I felt myself getting close to the peak I was so familiar with from his hands, the sensations drowning me and washing over me in over-powering waves. Taehyung’s moans were reaching crescendo, getting higher and whinier as his hips unfalteringly pounded into me.
“So close, darling,” he croaked with a raspy voice, “going to paint you with my seed, going to fill you to the brim.” I moaned in response, pussy throbbing and clenching around him, sucking him in deeper. I needed us both to peak, I needed it more than air to feel him unwind and release, get consumed with pleasure I provided him with.
“God, just a little more,” I answered to him breathlessly on a pleasured sigh. My hands squeezed his bottom and pushed him a little rougher. His breath hitched, but he changed his pace accordingly, slowing down but snapping his hips into me harder and rougher, making me wail with pleasure.
I felt myself spiralling into the heat, knowing I wouldn’t last too long like this. Above me Taehyung watched me through half-lidded eyes, mouth open and face consumed with raw lust at my blissed-out state. I caught his eyes just seconds before my whole body spasmed and then stilled, climax exploding over me with force that shocked a raspy scream out of me. I blanked out, trembling and overflowing with bliss and ecstasy, legs spasming and toes curling with the sensation of the fire consuming me inside out. It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt, the most intense thing my body has ever gone through, but I loved every second of it. It felt as if all the stress just drained away from my body and was replaced by molten gold.
Taehyung fucked me through the orgasm, and it took him only a few more thrusts before his hips jerked wildly, pleasure mounting until he released deep inside of me with his head thrown back and a long drawn-out moan. I felt his cock throb and pulse inside of me as it spurted his seed, his hips lightly swaying in circles to ride it out, until the boneless weightless feeling set in and he collapsed on top of me.
I was feeling so content, body pleasantly light and thrumming with aftershocks of our shared moment, eyelids heavy with sleep. I felt Taehyung slip out and move away from me, his release running down my legs and making me blush again, but I didn’t have any strength to move or wipe it away, so I just laid there and waited for the man. He returned with a piece of cloth, still just as naked, shooting me a little playful wink when he saw me looking at his body. I turned around, embarrassed, even though we had just enjoyed each other like husband and wife.
I heard his little chuckle, but then the cloth suddenly pressed onto my thighs, making me gasp quietly. Taehyung squeezed my leg in apology and continued cleaning me up. I couldn’t help the little sighs of content leaving me, the warm cloth and his gentle touches filling my heart with love.
When he was done, he threw the piece of cloth away carelessly, before jumping onto the bedding and snuggling up to me. We ended up like we always have, Taehyung holding me from behind, hands pulling me as close to him as I could go, lips and nose pressing into the crook of my neck and into my hair, trilling happily.
I let it gently lull me to sleep, melting into his loving embrace, listening to his content purrs, our bodies moulding perfectly together like it was always meant to happen. I closed my eyes, and welcomed sleep, feeling the most comfortable I’ve been in years.
I couldn’t remember what I was thinking right before I slipped under, but I did with the feeling of just everything being right.
I would be okay. We would be okay.
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hope you enjoyed yourself and see you around <3
A/N: the story of prince cheoyong, the son of the dragon king who neglected his wife to which a demon of pestilence took a liking and sneaked into her bed - one day cheoyong returned home and saw four feet sticking out of the bed instead of two, and he chased out the demon with singing and dancing, saving his wife and becoming a guardian god - it was said that no demon or evil spirit could enter a house as long as there was a likeness of cheoyong there, so people bought his portraits or talismans with his face and put them on their door, but i kind of switched the sides hehe
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ahonice · 6 months
Text
just friends
nico hischier x fem reader
word count: 10.9k (the longest fic i’ve ever written i’m so sorry)
warnings: unplanned pregnancy and mentions of unprotected sex, cursing, the word climax, a little angsty, if i forgot anything lmk.
note: i started this on september 1st, this actually took forever. ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoy lmk if you love it, if you hate it, any feedback in general is appreciated!! love y’all babes <3
+++
it was an accident.
you and nico had been in a casual friends with benefits relationship for about a year and a half, having known each other for three years in total, when it happened.
you and nico were being stupid one night. after a few too many drinks, and no condoms to be found anywhere in your apartment, you and nico fucked without protection. 
you were on birth control and nico had pulled out, well he did halfway through his climax.
you didn’t think anything when you didn’t get your period the following month or the two months after that, you hadn’t had a period in four years thanks to your birth control. 
for weeks you thought you were just bloated, maybe you had been eating too much lately. you were much hungrier these past couple of weeks, it made sense.
it wasn’t until you threw up eleven times in one week before ten in the morning that you grew suspicious and worried at the possibility of you being pregnant. 
you stopped by the drug store on your way home from work and panic bought nine different pregnancy tests. 
you drank seven things of water during the day and took no bathroom breaks in preparation for this moment, and you had never been so scared to get test results back.
positive. every single one of them.
you felt faint, like the walls of your tiny studio apartment were caving in on you. 
you couldn’t have a baby, you couldn’t be a mother, it just couldn’t happen.
+++
the first thing you had to do was tell nico.
you and nico weren’t exclusive, and while he probably has his fair share of hookups, you did not. he was the only possible candidate for the father. 
nico was currently three days into an eight day road trip, and as much as you wanted to just get it over with, you knew this is not the type of bombshell to be dropped via snapchat or imessage, considering you two only used imessage to play game pigeon and the nature of your saved snaps was not welcome to an “i’m pregnant and you’re the father” chat.
you decided to just text him that you needed to talk when he got back.
to: nico (hookup)
hey lmk when you’re back in newark, we need to talk.
from: nico (hookup)
oh? 
from: nico (hookup)
everything okay?
to: nico (hookup)
not quite sure yet.
+++
five days later you found yourself at nico’s door, nine positive pregnancy tests in a ziploc bag in your purse. you were shaking, you don’t think you had ever been this nervous in your entire life.
nico opened up the door with a wide smile. you didn’t know what face you were making, but it was enough to make nico’s face fall and worry come through his tone of voice.
“y/n? what’s wrong?”
you didn’t even register his words, you just moved past him into his apartment and sat down on his couch.
“y/n?”
“i’m pregnant.”
the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.
nico sat there frozen on the loveseat as you pulled the pregnancy tests out of your purse.
around three minutes later you pulled your phone out and opened up some home makeover game, nico was still frozen.
“-oh and you’re the father but you probably already know that.”
+++
it was around four minutes later when nico finally opened up his mouth to speak.
“what are you going to do?”
his question made me a little angry, yes he wasn’t entirely at fault, but he could’ve at least taken
a little responsibility and said “we” instead of “you”.
“i don’t know yet, i have an appointment with an obgyn on saturday. i’ll learn about my options there.”
“what time?” nico asked, opening up his phone calendar.
“10:30.” you knew that nico had practice at that time because it was a game day. “you have practice, i’ll just let you know what i decide to do.”
“this is my child too, i want to be a part of the decision making.”
“well you’re not going to be the one taking care of them, i am.”
“what makes you think that? i mean obviously i will be on the road at times during the season, but when we’re on homestands and since we’ll be married we’ll have the off season together-”
“woah take a girl out to dinner before you propose nico.” you interrupted. “we aren’t getting married…” “we’ve done a whole lot more than just dinner, and yes we are? how are we supposed to raise this baby together if we aren’t together.”
“have you ever heard of co-parenting? -also who says i’m keeping it, i haven’t made my decision yet.” you get up from your spot on his couch. “look i have to go, i’ll tell you about my appointment tomorrow.”
nico let out a heavy sigh. “don’t make any decisions without me.”
+++
“y/n?” 
you looked up at the nurse who was holding the door open with their body and walked up to greet her, your knees slightly wobbling from the nerves running through you.
“please follow me into room two, i’m just gonna get your vitals.”
you stayed silent as she took your blood pressure and checked your reflexes, you had to take a moment to calm yourself down after you saw your weight, you had freaked out before you remembered that there was currently another being inside of you.
“alright your vitals look good.” the nurse spoke before exiting the room. “follow me into this room, you can go ahead and take a seat on the bed in the center of the room. the doctor should be in shortly.”
you nodded and thanked her before she exited and you took a look around the room, taking a few mirror selfies to send to the family group chat. you had told all of your immediate relatives over facetime on your way back from nico’s yesterday, the news was received better than you had planned so you couldn’t say anything about your mom’s comments on being a grandmother, she made it very clear she was on team “keep the baby and be a badass single mom in the city”.
you sat on the bed/chair thing, ripping the paper instantly as you tried to get comfortable.
you took your eyes off your phone as you heard a series of knocks.
“miss y/n?”
“yes, that’s me.”
“hi, i’m dr.swarn i’ll be assisting you today. is this your first ultrasound?” the middle aged woman asked.
“yes it is.”
“and do you know how far along you are?”
“i’m assuming three to four months…i just found out yesterday…”
“well we will find out today.” the doctor began getting the sonograph ready as you attempted to mentally prepare yourself. “-and i have to ask…the father, is he in the picture?”
“he is, but it’s complicated…we aren’t together.”
the doctor simply nodded before asking you to lift up your shirt and warning you that the gel might be cold.
after a few moments, a grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, dr. swarn pointing things out. “-and this is your baby! it is a couple weeks too early to figure out the gender, so i would estimate that you are about four months pregnant.” 
you didn’t really focus on anything she said though, all your attention was on that tiny blob.
“do you want to hear the heartbeat?”
as dr.swarn began to turn up the volume the door swung open.
a very out of breath and sweaty nico stood in the door frame, bent over catching his breath.
“sorry i’m late!” nico walked up towards where you were lying on the table and smiled up at the doctor. “i’m the father.”
dr.swarn smiled at him before speaking. “well you made it just in time, we were just about to listen to the heartbeat.”
she had the screen turned towards her so nico had yet to see the baby. “this is your baby-” dr.swarn turned the screen back towards you and nico. “and this is their heartbeat.”
it was like everything around you had disappeared and all you knew was the image of your baby and the sound of their heartbeat. nico grabbed your hand and effectively pulled you out of the trance you were in.
“would you like me to discuss your options with you?” dr.swarn asked, turning the heartbeat down.
“no, i’m keeping it.”
+++
you got a recording of the heartbeat and got a couple prints of the ultrasound before exiting the doctors office, nico getting the same things as you.
“so you’re actually gonna keep it?” nico asked once he had walked you to your car.
“yes i am, and i don’t expect you to be involved at all if you don’t want to…i can do this on my own.”
“well you won’t have to.” nico started. “move into my apartment.”
you sighed, but nico spoke again before you could. “look we don’t have to get married right away, just move in…we will see how things go from there.”
“nico- i’m not moving in with you, i am perfectly fine living in my apartment and so is the baby.” you didn’t mean for your tone to come off so harsh, well you did a little bit, but you didn’t want nico thinking that you would be getting together just because of your child together. “look nico, i know that you believe that to raise a child the mother and father need to be together but i don’t and i don’t want to be with someone just because people think we have to. i will not be having a shotgun wedding.”
“what is a shotgun wedding?”
“-it does matter. we are not getting together nico.” you got into the driver's seat of your car. “i don’t really know how this co-parenting shit works, and i’m assuming you don’t either so let’s just make sure to be patient with one another, okay?”
nico nodded before you said your goodbyes and drove off in the direction of your apartment.
+++
around two weeks later as you sat in your little cubicle your phone started ringing.
nico (hookup)
you sighed and saved the progress on your current project before picking up the phone.
“hello?”
“hey, are you home right now?”
“no, it’s two in the afternoon on a thursday. i’m at work.”
“oh i didn’t think you would work while pregnant…” “i need to fund this child’s life somehow.”
there was an awkward silence for a few moments before you spoke up again.
“did you need something nico?”
“well i called to ask if you would like to come over for dinner tonight.”
“what are you making? because i don’t mean to sound rude, but this child doesn’t like anything i cook and you’re much worse than me.”
“hey i’m not that bad!” you both chuckle before nico speaks again. “is there anything you’re craving right now?”
“jiggly cheesecake and that gouda mac n cheese with sausage i got when we went to new york two years ago.”
“okay i can’t make any of that.”
“just make whatever you want, i’ll force it down if the baby doesn’t like it. what time should i come over?”
“5:30?”
“okay, i’ll just come straight from work.”
you said your goodbyes before you go back to your work.
+++ 
once the clock struck 4:45 you called it a day and headed out to your car before driving to nico’s apartment.
you knocked on the door, a tad bit confused because you heard multiple voices on the other side of the door, if it wasn’t for the welcome mat on the outside that you had forced nico to get you would’ve thought you were at the wrong door.
“hey.” nico opened the door, the voices only getting louder.
“hey…are other people joining us…?” you asked, looking around his apartment confused.
“yeah i probably should've mentioned-”
nico had begun to speak, but a voice that you knew as nico’s mother. “is y/n here!?” soon you saw her smiling faces coming towards you with open arms. “oh come here, it’s been too long sweetie!”
god bless your work bag that seemed to span to five feet because it was hiding your baby bump that was very noticeable in your blouse.
“hello mrs.hischier, how are you?” you asked politely, but you were really wanting to strangle nico right now.
“i’m great! luca and nina are here too!”
“oh that’s great! i’ll go see them in a second, i just need to talk to nico really quickly.”
you smiled as she walked away before turning to nico and gave him a swift slap on the backside of his head. “are you crazy!? did you just ambush a pregnancy announcement on me!?”
“look, i know this probably wasn’t the best way to approach this, but my family needs to know.”
“i am fully aware of that, but this is something that you plan out, not something you spring on a pregnant woman!”
“i’m sorry! just- let’s go into the living room, nina really misses you.”
you had met nico’s family multiple times before and were especially close with his sister nina, she was the only one who knew of you and nico’s odd relationship and was the number one supporter of you two getting together.
you walked out, your work bag still covering yourself as you greeted luca and nina, the later giving you a look that only made you nervous.
you made small talk with the family before nico announced that dinner was ready. thankfully nico had brought your plate to you, both you and the fetus were happy with the look and smell of the fettuccine alfredo, with sausage, that nico had made. “thank you.”
as much as you didn’t want to, you had to set your work bag that had been used as a bump shield on the floor to eat, you just hoped everyone was too distracted by the food in front of them to notice.
“so what was the news that you had to share? i assume it has to do with y/n?” mrs.hischier spoke excitedly, it was obvious she was hoping that you and nico had started dating.
“y/n is pregnant and i’m the father and we are keeping it, but we are not together.” nico spoke quickly, his head down as if he was a child being scolded.
“oh…” 
it wasn’t the worst reaction that could’ve happened, but it definitely wasn’t the best one, but how good of a reaction could one get after they tell their mother they got their fuck buddy pregnant.
“we’re figuring this all out as we go, but i am very sorry mrs.hischier i understand this isn’t how one would usually want their son to become a father.” you apologized, your head was also down.
“i’m not angry, just shocked and a little bit disappointed in you nico…but everything happens for a reason so i fully support you two.” you and nico let out identical sighs as his mother revealed that she was not going to disown either of us.
+++
the rest of dinner went great, you even made plans for both yours and nico’s family to get together for a small gender reveal brunch before the hischier’s headed back to switzerland.
nina had called dibs on walking you out so you prepared yourself for the question you knew she was going to ask.
“are you absolutely, one hundred percent, serious when you say that you and nico are not together in any way, whatsoever, romantically?” nina asks, using too many synonyms for the word definitely.
“yes i am absolutely, one hundred percent, serious when i say that me and nico are not together in any way, whatsoever, romantically.” you reply, mocking her words.
she doesn’t seem too pleased by your answer and whines. “why? i want a sister and you are the only person i like, in general.”
“that is very sweet nina, but me and nico don’t like each other in that way. we’ve been…boinking for almost two years now. if either of us had feelings, i guarantee they would have been confessed by now and we probably would not be expecting a child out of wedlock in five months.”
nina let out an exaggerated sigh as you neared your car. 
“me and nico are just friends, okay?” you spoke, getting into the driver’s seat. 
“yeah friends who happen to boink on a weekly basis and are now expecting a child together.”
“i’ll see you at brunch on sunday nina.” 
+++
“i’m team boy and girl!”
“mom i already told you we aren’t having twins.” 
the sunday morning activities were supposed to be fun, and they were, but they were causing you a shit load of stress. 
it seemed like everything nico was doing was aggravating you, and when nico and your little brother were in the same room it was a recipe for disaster. plus your mother wasn’t any help, she teamed up with nico’s mother and kept pressuring you to at least move in with nico, who you believe put them up to it.
“okay let’s just get this over with!” you yelled out, just wanting to figure out the gender so you could go home and have some much needed alone time.
nico came up next to you holding the envelope that contained the gender. “you ready mommy?”
“ew, don’t call me that.”
everyone had their phones out and began counting down as nico opened up the envelope.
“it’s a…GIRL!”
everyone’s cheers only furthered your headache, but you gave nico a smile and side hug before going over to your mother who ecstatically hugged you.
“a baby girl! i’m so happy for you y/n, my first grandbaby!”
you quickly said your goodbyes, not bothering to eat any of the food that was made or open any of the gifts that were brought.
were you being a rude, ungrateful, bitch for no reason? yes. but you were too exhausted to care or feel bad about nico’s constant dejected looks on his face throughout the morning.
+++
the second you got home you passed out on the floor of your apartment , god bless the pregnancy pillow your mother had delivered to you because you had a weird thing for sleeping on hardwood floors. 
you woke up at three in the afternoon to a series of knocks at your door. you took a while to get up and once you did you regretted it because you saw nico looking very angry through the peephole. 
you grabbed a sharpie and a sheet of paper towel and wrote the words “GO AWAY” in a very bold font before slipping it under the door.
the knocking silenced for a moment before it got louder, along with a call of your name.
“y/n. open the fucking door.” nico was seething.
you opened up the door. “what? i was sleeping.” you pointed to the pillow and blanket on the floor of your kitchen.
“on the floor?”
“yes- what do you need nico?”
“you left the party so quickly that you didn’t even get to open up your gifts, or acknowledge them.” nico gestured to the large bag of wrapped gifts that sat at his feet. “you actually left the party so early that the food wasn’t even served before you had said your goodbyes, which by the way thanks for not saying goodbye to me and thanks so much for the fake smile and side hug you gave me after we found out the gender of our child. that’s gonna be a real joy to look back on.”
you felt your headache coming back, you were starting to believe the sole cause was nico.
“seriously what was your problem this morning?” nico asked after a few moments of silence.
“my problem was that i didn’t even want this baby in the first place and i know for a fact i’m not going to be a good mother, and you! nico you are my problem, everything you did this morning seemed to piss me off and it’s probably just the pregnancy hormones making me easily irritable, but you were getting on my fucking nerves by breathing this morning.” 
nico kicked the bag of gifts into your apartment in a fit. “well i’ll stop bothering you then.”
you knew you should’ve been a rational adult and went after him, but you weren’t, so you slammed the door and brought all the gifts to the living room so you could open them.
you smiled as you realized that all of the gifts were for you. your favorite candies and snacks, maternity clothes, and some prenatal care items that you probably should’ve started taking the second you found out you were pregnant, with the exception of one gift. it was from nico, you could tell by the poor wrapping job, you had been the one to wrap all of his christmas gifts ever since you met him except your own of course, those he always wrapped himself and they were a nightmare.
once you got his present unwrapped you found a boat load of mini devils gear. bibs, socks, a onesie, even a pair of noise canceling headphones. at the bottom of the box you found a very tiny devil’s jersey with the number thirteen on the back and a big patched “C” on the front. you teared up once you saw the big patched “DADDY” above the thirteen on the back and a matching bow headband with a small note. i’m writing this before the reveal and i know we don’t know the sex yet, but i’m hoping for a girl and i know you are too. i hope the headband is a little good luck charm that baby girl judith is on the way. - nico.
you teared up at the note, especially at nico remembering the name you’ve always wanted to name your first daughter.
you quickly called nico, tears streaming down your face and nose all stuffy.
“hello?”
“come back up…please.”
“on my way.”
+++
you stood by the door waiting for nico to knock and once he did you immediately opened the door and nearly tackled him from the hug you gave him.
“i’m sorry.” you mumbled, still crying.
“i know, it’s okay.”
you walked into your apartment and sat on your couch next to nico. “you remembered my baby names.”
“how could i forget them?” nico stated.
“what would you have done if it was baby boy gannon instead of judith?” you asked, turning your head that was leaned on his shoulder up to look at him.
“turn the headband into a bowtie…?”
you laughed at him before your stomach growled loudly.
“what are you in the mood for?” nico asked immediately.
“canes, but that’s in the city and i don’t wanna make you go to new york.” 
nico stood up after hearing your restaurant of choice. “c’mon, i’ll drive.”
+++
“how is it?”
“this is sex in a chicken tender nico, thank you for taking me here.”
nico laughed at your response before the both of you continued to eat a comfortable silence.
“hey tell your family that i’m sorry for how i was acting this morning, i am super grateful for them helping plan the reveal and to delay their flight to attend.”
“don’t worry, they understand that pregnancy emotions can be a lot, but i will still let them know.” nico said, making a mental note to text the family group chat.
“their gifts were very thoughtful too, how did nina know i like black licorice?”
“oh i let them know all your favorite things, that wasn’t alcohol.” nico shrugged as if it was no big deal.
you took a moment to process his answer, it wasn’t that weird for nico to know all of your favorite snacks and desserts, that’s what friends do…right?
+++
to: nico (hookup)
i have my sixth month checkup tomorrow at 10am, would you like to join?
from: nico (hookup)
yeah, do you wanna meet there or drive together?
to: nico (hookup)
could we drive together? 
from: nico (hookup)
of course, i’ll pick you up at 9:30, we’ll stop by mcdonalds for breakfast. i know you love their sausage muffins.
you hadn’t seen nico since the day of the gender reveal party and when you went into the city together to get canes. of course you stayed in contact, but it was hard with both of your work schedules that often collided. 
the next day nico was knocking on your door right at nine thirty in the morning, and you were still passed out. the pregnancy pillow and weighted blanket combo was not being your friend right now, though it was at 5am when the gremlin in your womb wouldn’t stop kicking. which she did for the first time earlier that day.
after about five minutes of nico knocking on your door with no response he began to fully panic, had you fallen down and couldn’t get up? were you dead in your bed? did you forget he was picking you up? so many things could’ve happened to you.
after a few moments of contemplating, nico decided that his only option was to break the door down. he began backing up a few steps and then running full force into your door, it took about seven tries for the door to fall to the ground.
the sound of the first impact of nico’s body was enough to wake you up. at the second impact you became aware of your surroundings, and at the third you thought someone was trying to break into your apartment.
you grabbed the closet weapon you could find, a meat pounder that you left on your kitchen counter last night, and got in position, ready to attack the person on the other side of the door.
once the door fell to the ground and the body fell on top of it, you got ready to swing.
“y/n!? are you alive!?”
“AHHH- nico!?” you froze your movements, the pounder hanging right above your head. “what are you doing here!?”
nico was still on the ground, also frozen as he tried to catch his breath. “ultrasound.”
you dropped your hands to your side as an ohhh played in your head. “i’m sorry i completely forgot. just give me a few moments and then we can leave.”
you turned around to enter your room before you froze and turned back around.
“i don’t have a front door…”
“i’ll text jack to come over and watch over the place and reattach it while we’re gone, the kid needs something to do this morning anyways.” nico said while pulling out his phone.
“does he know?”
“no, but he will…i’ve been meaning to ask you about telling the team anyways.”
“we can talk about it later , i need to get ready.”
you quickly got dressed, sporting a tight tank top, tight leggings, and a tight zip up. all tight because this baby had you gaining five pounds a minute. you huffed and puffed trying to get the tank top on. eventually you got it over your bump, but it was rising up and you were spilling out of it in too many places. deciding to just embrace the bummy look you threw on uggs, didn’t bother to put your contacts in, and left your hair in the rat's nest bun you’ve been wearing for the past five days since you were told to take a break from work by your boss, of course you had to faint in front of her.
“nico i need to get maternity clothes, i’m pretty sure these tanktop strings will snap if i raise my arm and don’t get me started on these leggings.”
“you’re huge…” 
“thanks nico, you’re really helping out right now.” you joked, but deep down you were upset. you don’t tell a pregnant woman she is huge, especially if it’s your baby. “let’s go, we can’t be late.”
“jack is almost here, babe.” the nickname slipped out before nico could even process what he was saying.
“uhm…”
“yo nico what’s up…where is y/n’s door.” jack said while walking into your apartment.
“you’re standing on it.” you spoke. jack’s eye’s wandered to you and then to your belly, and then they got really wide. “hi jacklyn.”
“oh shit.”
“we can talk about this later, but me and nico really have to go because we’re already running late.”
you and nico quickly walked out, the later telling jack that you had a toolbox under your sink and to “go crazy.” 
“no mcdonalds then huh?” nico asked as you got into his car.
“no, but i’ll be fine.”
+++
you weren’t fine.
you quickly got hangry and so did judith, nico seemed to be your punching for just about everything and even though he said he was fine, you could tell you hit home when you told him he needed to wax his eyebrows.
dr.swarn was completely fine with you guys being ten minutes late because she didn’t have anyone scheduled after you. the appointment went great except judith didn’t want to kick when nico felt your stomach, and of course nico’s hands were all dry and calloused which you hated feeling on your skin, and then after the ultrasound was over you guys rushed to mcdonalds because nico was determined to get you a damn sausage muffin, but of course you were two minutes past the cutoff for lunch and the teenager taking your order wouldn’t budge and you had to pretend like the cheeseburger didn’t come back up the second you got into the restroom. all you wanted to do is go home and be alone…and eat jalapeno poppers…and mozzarella sticks…
nico stopped at target to get what you wanted, and mac n cheese bites because he knew you’d love them.
you were pleasantly surprised when you arrived home to your door back on. luckily it had just separated itself from the hinges when nico tackled it to the ground, so it was an easy fix for jack.
once you stepped inside, nico quickly got to work, placing large portions of everything he bought in your airfryer. nico said it was crazy to buy a twenty size quart size air fryer and that you would never use it, but here he was being proven wrong.
you quickly changed out of the leggings and jacket, leaving the tank top on because you knew it would be just as much of a workout to get it off as it was to get it on and you threw on nico’s heart boxers he swears he wore as a joke, but you knew he picked them out at the store being one hundred percent serious.
“you two kids come sit down.” jack spoke loudly, as if he was your father.
“jack we are both older than you.” nico spoke sitting down in the spot next to you on your couch.
“doesn’t matter. you’re pregnant?”
you both nodded as jack pointed to you.
“-and you’re the father?”
you both nodded as jack pointed to nico.
“and you’re keeping it together as…”
“friends, just friends.”
“friends don’t have babies together.” jack gave you a skeptical look.
“they do now.” you stood up. “goodbye jack.”
+++
“i think it’s best if you two move in together, for both your safety y/n, and the babies.”
dr.swarn spoke before leaving you and nico in the room alone,
you were now seven months pregnant and you were constantly fainting, your boss had stopped allowing you to come into work and told you that you “needed rest” so you met her halfway and you now work from home.
nico was over one night after a game when he walked in on you passed out on the kitchen floor, but this time it wasn’t on purpose. he immediately began staying the night on your couch to make sure you were alright and as soon as you could he got you into dr.swarn’s office.
“i’m taking you home and we’re packing you up. i’ll text jack to come over with luke.” nico said as you exited the obgyn. 
“you know i can help right? judith is fine-”
“-but you’re not fine! you told dr.swarn that you’ve been fainting since even before you got pregnant, and i didn’t know. why didn’t you tell me about all this?” nico interrupted you, obviously upset.
“because it’s not important!” you snapped back. “it doesn’t affect judith in anyway, so i don’t understand you’re so worried.”
“it’s important because it affects you. i am worried about you, and i’m allowed to be. now there is no more arguments, you will be moving in with me and ending your lease at your current place.”
“nico-”
“no, that is final.”
+++
for the rest of the day you sat and watched tv while the two hughes and nico packed up your apartment until they had to pack your tv, which you insisted they did last.
“the truck is all loaded up, we’re gonna drive it over to nico’s and he is going to drive you in your car.” jack spoke as you approached where the truck was parked on the side of the street.
you nodded as nico helped you into the car. you hated admitting it, but you were much larger than you were expecting to be at this time in your pregnancy. 
+++
once you had made it to nico’s apartment you did the same thing you were doing before while the boys unpacked your stuff into the second bedroom, absolutely nothing.
you got up and waddled over to where the guys were all watching luke struggle to get the fitted sheet on your bed.
“can i please do something? anything?” you begged.
“yeah, go out and use my laptop to create a list of things you want as gifts at the baby shower, a registry because i know you want specific things for judith.” nico answered your begging.
“baby shower? i’m having a baby shower?” you had not been informed of this.
“yeah, all the guys on the team and their partners are gonna come, so are your friends and family, mine is coming too.” nico spoke like it was no big deal. 
nico had told the guys about three weeks ago because they saw the ultrasound in his locker. which in response had you getting multiple text messages from some of the girls all sounding very similar to “i thought y’all were just friends?” 
“when is this?” you asked, knowing you would need to get an outfit ready.
“next saturday, we have no game.” nico replied simply
“that’s in a week!” you shrieked, when you went maternity clothes shopping that did not involve any dresses.
“yeah, so you better get working on that list.”
+++
it only took you ten minutes to make the list because all you had to do was transfer it from a google doc, where it was already made but just titled as your shopping list, to a spreadsheet where people could claim a gift to give you, nico, and the baby.
it was a list with the basics. a stroller, breast pump, car seat (preferably one that went with the stroller), bed sheets, clothes, the essentials to keep a newborn alive, but you also had other things like decor for the nursery toys, and this bedside bassinet that your mother had been raving about since she saw it on facebook. you thanked god that your new room had a walk-in closet because that was going to be judith’s room. you weren’t even sure it was a closet because it was completely empty, no shelves or rods to hang anything on, it was more of a very small room, but it worked out better for you so you couldn’t complain.
you quickly went back to where the boys were, silently screaming as they made your bed completely wrong.
“please, oh please for the love of god, let me make my bed.” you begged nico, genuinely astonished that they had managed to put your pillows in the wrong order and put your comforter on inside out.
“i thought i told you to make your list?” nico said.
“i already finished. it was easy.” you said as you began stripping your bed of everything on it. “i just put down everything i already had on my shopping list…and then some because i know my friends are gonna wanna get me multiple things.”
you made sure to stare jack down as you put your comforter on the correct way before you placed your pillows in the correct order as well as the blankets at the end of your bed.
nico was quick to rush you back into the living room, turning on a movie for you to watch. you quickly got bored, which meant you quickly got hungry.
“nico!” you yelled out, needed your baby daddy to come to your rescue.
“yes honey?” nico approached where you were lying down, the two brothers laughing at their captain.
“i’m hungry.” you gave him a hopeful smile. “for taco bell…” “you’re order still the same as it was last time?” nico didn’t even hesitate to grab his shoes and keys. 
“yes, but if they have nacho fries please get those too.” you answered, nico had basically all of your fast food orders memorized by now.
“nico can i get some food too?” jack asked in a girly voice.
“please honey!” luke added.
“fuck off you two, go finish putting her clothes away.
+++
soon enough you had dragged nico out to go shopping for a dress for your baby shower. luke and jack had left shortly after nico arrived back home with your food and once you finished eating you got nico to drive you to the mall.
“ooh what about this one?” you pulled out a simple floral dress.
“it’s nice, but it’s only march. don’t you think it’ll be too cold for a tank top?” nico spoke, reminding you that it was still freezing cold in new jersey.
a few minutes later you approached where nico was sat in a chair with a dress you thought would be more appropriate. 
“what about this? i love the pink.” it was basically a dupe of the skims long sleeve dress, but you didn’t really care. “we’ll have to find a polo that matches the color while we’re out.”
nico approved of the dress so you were quick to go to the checkout and buy the dress, excited about the event that was going to happen, after you pulled nico into the closest department store and found a polo that was close enough to the shade of pink of your dress. 
“how are you gonna tell the media about…this whole thing?” you asked on the way home.
“what whole thing?” nico questioned, not exactly understanding what you meant.
“the fact that you knocked up some chick, who you are now living with to raise the baby, but you aren’t together with said chick.” you deadpanned, thinking of all the reactions you knew you were going to get from the hockey world. you could already see the “baby trapper” and “gold digger” comments and dms you would get.
“i didn’t knock up some chick, i knocked up my…friend?” 
“yeah go with that, it sounded real believable nico.” you said sarcastically.
“look i don’t really know how to tell the world that i got my hook up/best friend pregnant because, as jack as told me multiple times, my pull out game is weak.” you laughed and agreed with jack that nico did in fact have a weak pull out game, the evidence was currently kicking you. 
after a few moments of silence nico spoke up again. “alright what if we don’t mention our relationship at all. we just make an instagram post together of images of the ultrasounds and pics from the baby shower and tell everyone that we are expecting. we definitely won’t post the gender reveal video because you look like you were planning my death in it, but we just make the post and don’t comment on our relationship.”
you had to admit that it was a good idea, but you already knew that this would make everyone assume that you were dating. most people did already, which you understood. you wore playoff jackets with nico’s name and number, you attend team events and parties together, hell you went to the nhl awards with him and his family, and you are super close with his family, so you were never upset that people assumed your relationship status with nico because you did everything that the other girlfriends and wives did.
“i like that idea.”
+++
“alright this gift is from me and jack.” luke spoke as he handed you a gift.
you were a bit overwhelmed with the amount of people looking at you and just simply being in your home, but you knew that these people were here for you and at the end of the day you were getting a shit ton of gifts. 
so far every single thing you had put on your list was gifted to you and now it was just things people thought you or the baby would like.
“oh you guys…i love it!” it was a wood wall decal of judith’s name and it matched the pink polkadot of her sheets.
“there is more under it.” jack spoke up. 
you lifted up the large sign and saw a baby onesie in maize and blue that said “future wolverine.”
you and your friends started laughing at it. 
“you guys do know that i went to ohio state right?”
you were met with a disgusted stare by the brothers, more specifically the youngest, only causing you to laugh harder, not noticing nico’s pissed off expression, the one he had on his face all day.
+++
you continued to open up gifts and thank everyone, nico was one writing duty so he wrote down each gift and who it was from so you could send them thank you cards later in the week.
once presents were done it was photo time. you took lots with your family and nico’s family, as well as some with your friends, and of course you had to keep the tradition going with the girls from the team and took a picture of everyone pointing at your belly.
you only took a couple with nico, as he had been oddly distant all day.
after everyone left you and nico began moving everything into judith’s nursery and setting things up.
“thank you for setting that up, i had a lot of fun.” you spoke up, interrupting the awkward silence that was looming around you two.
nico nodded as he finished building the crib, you were given the simple task of putting all the wipes and diapers in the changing table’s cabinet.
“so once we’re done do you want to make the instagram post? or were you wanting to wait until after judith was born to post?” it was awkward, nico was just sitting there once the crib was all set up. “...nico?”
you were met with silence, nico was staring at you, yet not speaking.
“okay what the hell is up with you today? you’ve been weird all day, the only time you were even interacting with me was during pictures.” you had snapped, getting aggravated by the swiss’ behavior today.
“it’s nothing i just…” nico started speaking, but trailed off quickly.
“are you having second thoughts about all of this?” you whispered, scared to say it too loudly, scared that it is the truth. “second thoughts about judith?”
nico’s head instantly shook. “no, of course not.”
“then what’s wrong?”
“it’s nothing, i’m just not feeling the greatest and i didn’t want to risk you getting sick so i tried to keep my distance from you…” nico lied.
earlier, when the party was first starting, nico had overheard your conversation with your friends about how you couldn’t wait to give birth so you can start going out on dates and having meaningless hookups, saying that you missed being a twenty two year old who could do twenty two year old things. 
nico understood you had urges, hell he had his urges too. over the course of your pregnancy you and nico had the occasional…hang out, but ever since you moved it was happening once, sometimes twice, a day. he thought it meant something, he thought you guys were finally going somewhere, but it seemed like you just wanted to go back to how things were before, which would probably be impossible, you have a fucking kid togther.
nico had realized a year ago that he had feelings for you. the only reason he didn’t go full legal team on your ass when you told him you were pregnant was because of how desperately he had fallen for you.  
“oh, well you could’ve just told me that earlier, i was worried that i had done something.” you said before an awkward silence settled in the room. “well could you put all the sheets and clothes we got today in the washer? i’m gonna start on thank you notes in the living room.”
you shook off the tension as you exited the small room, nico gathering everything that needed to be washed in a small basket before going into the laundry room.
+++
“i don’t like that, why don’t we just wait to post until she is born to post everything, have the caption just be judith? i think that's better than a three hundred word rant that could be summarized by i knocked up my friend.” 
three weeks until you were due to pop and you and nico still hadn’t gone public with the pregnancy. of course the wag blogs found a way to get a hold of a picture of you and nico from earlier on in the pregnancy where people could only speculate whether or not you were with child or just had a large lunch and somehow it got out that you had moved in with nico, only furthering the rumors that had been going on for years that you and nico are more than just friends. 
“okay. let’s wait until she comes to post, but i don’t like that caption, let’s keep thinking.” nico replied, the devil’s PR team email staring back at him. “they want us to publicize it before someone else does it for us.”
“well it’s a good thing i’m chained to this bed until i go into labor.” you joked, you were so big you could barely sit up let alone walk anywhere. “no one is going to find out, don’t worry. it will all be okay.”
+++
two weeks later you had been having contractions all day, but dr.swarn said to not go to the hospital until your water had broke because these contractions could’ve been directly connected to stress. considering that your pregnancy was exposed three days ago, you would say that you were pretty stressed out.
one of the girls, not even thinking, had posted a photo dump on instagram to celebrate the devil’s season ending and included one from your baby shower. nico, you, and unborn judith right in the center of it all. it was quickly taken down, but the damage had already been done and now all of nico’s and your social medias were being flooded by comments. 
nico was currently at locker cleanout, and the meeting he had to have with the PR team to apologize for not listening to them and to set up a game plan to rescue him from whatever deepshit this was going to get him in was scheduled for right after.
you were laid down on the kitchen floor, your mother was somewhere in the living room timing your contractions. you were having a big contraction, holding onto the nearby chair leg for support, when you felt a gush of liquid puddle under you. 
“MOM!?” you yelled out, your water had just broke.
“sweetie!? what’s going on- OH LORD!” your mother scrambled to get you on your feet as you cried out in pain. “let me get the bag!” you had never seen your mom run so fast, you would’ve laughed at her nearly tripping if it wasn’t for the child threatening the slip out at any moment.
you were assisted into the backseat of your mother’s car as she drove to the hospital.
“if you could step on it, that would be great i’m kinda-” your sarcastic comment was cut off by another contraction. “nico…oh my god nico! i need to call him!”
you fished around the packed bag until you got a grip on your phone, dialing up nico as quickly as possible.
“i’m sorry but the number you reached is not available. please leave a message at the sound of the beep.”
you groaned loudly, speaking into the phone. 
“your child is currently in the process of being born, i’m at the hospital closest to the arena. please hurry.”
+++
you laid in the weirdly comfortable hospital bed, not yet fully dilated. it worked out in your favor because nico had yet to show up. you left a couple text messages and then a few more voicemails.
“i don’t know what the fuck your doing right now, but if judith is born before you get here your last name will not be on the birth certificate.” you said into the microphone, leaving the third voicemail of the day.
nico’s entire family was flying in next week and nico had made sure that he had all of next week off from any media or anything related to hockey so he could be there for the birth, but now judith was coming early and no one but your mother was here.
dr.swarn entered your hospital room again, she had arrived shortly after you because you had paged her the second you got into the car. “how are we doing momma?”
“not good, baby daddy is nowhere to be seen and i’m still not dilated enough to get this monster out of me.” you answered, setting your phone down beside you.
after a few moments dr.swarn smiled. “well i’m sorry about nico’s absence, but judith is ready to come out. you’re ready to push.”
+++
you don’t remember much, the epidural had kicked in. 
you remember holding onto your mom’s hand so hard that she yelped in pain at one point.
you remember cursing nico for not only doing this to you, but not being there for you.
you remember crying, a lot, and you remember judith crying a lot too.
you remember holding judith for the first time. both of your tears stopped for just a moment as you had skin on skin contact.
you whimpered as they took her away for cleaning, but soon she was wrapped up and you were able to hold her again. 
you remember the sound of footsteps and a thick swiss accent begging to be let into the room, continuously yelling that he was the father. your mother was quick to go into the hall and defend nico from the nurses saying he couldn’t go into the room, and as soon as nico saw you holding judith he began crying. 
“y/n i am so so sorry, i was-”
“where the hell were you!? i just had to give birth to our daughter without the father there!” you scolded the man.
“i put my phone at the bottom of my bag during locker cleanout and didn’t even think to take it out before my meeting with management. i got here as fast as i could.” nico had to catch his breath while he spoke.
“i was all alone…” you teared up, all of your emotions catching up to you again.
“i know. i know baby and i’m so sorry.” nico said, coming to your side. “can i hold her?”
you were too distracted by nico calling you baby, well more specifically by the feeling in your stomach, to answer with words. you just nodded and handed judith over. “be careful, and make sure to support her head.”
you smiled at the sight of nico holding judith, tears in his eyes, quickly taking a picture.
“were you serious about my name not being on the birth certificate?”
+++
once everything had settled down and you and nico were finally given some alone time in the hospital room you began making calls.
your mom had already messaged your families group chat, informing them of judith’s birth and sending pictures, so now you just had to call nico’s family. first was his mother, you had wanted to call her before you went into labor but it was around midnight for her and you didn’t want to wake her up.
she was so happy to hear from you, and you had never heard such an excited scream in your life when you turned the camera onto where judith was currently sleeping in your arms, nico having moved to lay behind you in the bed, his chest being your pillow.
“oh you have to call nina next, she has been so excited to become an aunt!”
that’s exactly what you two did.
facetime nina was fun, she gave you some much needed comic relief and she didn’t make any comments on yours and nico’s relationship…while he was in the room.
the second nico stepped out of the room nina was quick to ask when the wedding was.
“never gonna happen. i don’t like nico like that, and he doesn’t like me like that.” you said while putting judith back in that plastic jail they call a crib. “we’re here to talk about my gorgeous daughter who looks a little too much like nico for my liking.”
“ouch.” 
your head whipped around to see nico standing at the door. “your back early.” you were hoping he didn’t hear what you had said earlier. lately nico had been acting insanely weird everytime someone brought up your relationship with one another.
“the nurse was just outside, she’s gonna go finish the final paperwork and we’ll probably be out of here in the next hour.” nico said before turning back around. “i’m gonna go help out with the discharge papers.”
once he left you let out a groan. “nina why is your brother acting so weird?”
“what’s up with him?” she asked, curiously.
“ever since the baby shower he has just been…off. i don’t even know how to explain it.” you  started off, beginning to pace around the room. “he is so distant, and really out of it. i would think it might just be with the upsetting ending of the season, but this has been going on since before the playoffs. he keeps saying that he is sick and doesn’t want to expose me to germs, but i live with him and i haven’t even heard him sneeze from allergies.”
“do you think, and i hate to ask this, that he is having regrets about…everything?” 
you felt tears fill your eyes at her question. “yeah, i do. i asked him, and he denied it, but i can’t think of any other reason why he would distance himself from me and from judith.”
the lack of response from your friend on the phone was enough to make you start crying.
“i have my essentials packed up and my mom has a lawyer on speed dial just in case something happens…” you felt horrible having to admit this, especially to his sister. “i don’t want the lawyers, it’s my moms doing.” you felt guilty for what having a lawyer would be implying. 
“-i’m not judging you. just make sure nico doesn’t find out, i have a feeling he won’t be a fan of you even having a bag packed.” nina cut you off. “look i have to go, just keep me updated.”
you assured her you would before saying your goodbyes.
+++
“hey you just have to sign the discharge papers and the birth certificate, then we can leave.” nico said, entering the hospital room you had been in for the past couple of hours.
it had been around twenty minutes since you said goodbye to nina, deciding to finish phone calls tomorrow and instead spend your time crying while holding your crying newborn, best way to bond right?
“okay.” you sniffled. “could you put judith in her carseat? i’m gonna change.”
bond right?
“okay.” you sniffled. “could you put judith in her carseat? i’m gonna change.”
nico nodded and picked judith up from the hospital’s crib, holding her close to his chest and staring at her in awe. he couldn’t believe that this precious little girl was his.
“i’m always going to love and protect you, no matter what. your mother too. someday we’ll be a happy family, the three of us, hopeful gannon will join us sometime soon…” nico trailed off. “daddy loves you and he loves mommy too, you’re the two most important women in my life now, don’t you ever forget that…your mommy does a lot.” 
nico couldn’t finish his peptalk, or whatever one would call the conversation with his daughter, because you had stepped out of the bathroom changed and ready to go. “are you okay?” it was obvious that you were crying, you don’t know why you were even trying to hid it. 
“i’m fine, just emotional…just gave birth ya know.” you tried to laugh it off.
nico didn’t believe it. “we’ll talk when we get home.” 
+++
“why have you been acting so weird-”
“i overheard what you said-”
you and nico spoke at the same time, nico gesturing for you to go first.
“you overheard!?” you were convinced you were breaking a sweat from how panicked you had become in an instant. “look nico, the lawyer was my mother’s idea a-and i haven’t even actually talked to them yet, my mother just has them on retainer.”
“wait, what!?” nico stared at you with a look that scared you. “i was talking about what you said at your baby shower. you have a lawyer!? do you have all your things packed too so you’re ready to leave me and take judith with you!?” your silence only made nico angrier. “oh my god you do have your shit packed.”
“j-just the essentials…” you stuttered out.
“yeah because that makes a difference.” nico had distanced himself from you. “i cannot believe this.”
“i only did that stuff because for the past month it's seemed like the last thing you wanted was to be in mine and judith’s life!” your loud voices woke judith up, her loud wails only making the room more tense. you picked her up and tried to soothe her as you spoke to nico. “i’m only gonna ask you one more time nico, do you regret being with me and deciding to be in judith’s life?” 
“no. i do not regret it y/n.” nico spoke sternly.
“then why the hell are you treating us this way?” 
“because i am in love with you.”
your eyes widened in shock and you nearly lost your grip on judith from the whiplash that seemed to go through your body.
“you…what!?” 
it was essentially a stare down between the two of you, it was so uncomfortable in the room that even judith shut her mouth. 
“i have for a year now, probably longer, a-and i thought that judith would finally be my way into your heart. i thought that me being there for you, and for our daughter, would make you love me too.” nico’s tone of voice was one of a kicked puppy. 
“what are you doing?” you asked, not pleased with what he was throwing onto you. “why are you telling me this?” 
“i just needed you to know.” nico whispered his response, not expecting that reaction.
“so you’ve been in love with me for a year now?” nico nodded at your question. “so how does that add up to you treating me like some gold digging whore who got pregnant on purpose for the past month?” 
“i’m not-” nico let out a heavy sigh. “at your baby shower you said you couldn’t wait for everything to get back to how it was before the pregnancy.”
“yeah, so?”
“so!? you’ve basically been counting down the days until you’re able to fuck someone else, while i’ve been doing everything in my power to prove myself to you that i am worthy of being more than just the guy you fuck when no one else is available.” nico grew angry, if this was a cartoon steam would be coming out of his ears.
“i didn’t ask for you to do that nico! i was happy with how things were before judith, is it so wrong to want that back?” you were equally as angry. who was he to make you feel guilty about not being in love with him?
“yes it is! you are a mother now y/n, you are not allowed to be irresponsible anymore. you have to take care of two lives now-”
“are you not going to be helping me!?” you interrupted nico.
“when i can, yes i will, but i have a job that keeps me away a lot.” 
you rolled your eyes at his words. “you are not allowed to dictate my love life just because you knocked me up.”
you didn’t know if you should be thankful or agitated that judith decided to start crying at that moment, but either way you started your slight bouncing movements back up to try and settle my daughter, as odd as it was to use that term in a real scenario, and tried to find those parental instincts everyone was always talking about.
“she’s probably hungry.”
“i didn’t ask you…but thank you i will try that.”
+++
the first night with judith was rough. as much as nico wanted to, he couldn’t leave you alone and retreat off to the hughes’, both because if his mother found out, and she would, he might as well get his obituary ready in advance and he just could not handle the torture the brothers would put him through.
it was like your daughter had a sixth sense for when you were just about to fall asleep, choosing those exact moments to cry out for something. you never knew what she wanted, always going through the same order of “milk, diaper change, pacifier, cuddles, burping, scenery change, and clothing change” until one of them worked. 
nico slept on the couch, it was close enough to your room where if judith began to cry he would hear it and wake up. he was going to stay in your room with you and judith, but after the blowup of him confessing his feelings and you borderline rejecting him things it got a bit awkward. still now, almost twenty four hours later you and nico hadn’t had a proper conversation let alone spoken about what had happened. 
you were on the phone with nina for a while, then your mother, then nina and your mother, both of them giving you their advice but following it up with “just listen to your heart.”, so it was all canceled out in your mind. 
you turned to your newborn, who was staring at you from her little bed next to yours. “judith what am i supposed to do? your daddy, the one with the funny voice, is so amazing and sweet. he treats me like a princess, so why am i struggling so much to figure out what i want with him?” 
judith stared at you with those large brown eyes, a small look of adoration on her face. 
“i love you.” you whispered to her. “-and i love your father too.” 
you sat up in bed, eyes widening at your revelation. you love nico. 
“oh judith, thank you for listening to your mommy!”
you hopped out of bed, rushing into the living room. “nico! nico! nico! nic-”
“what!? what's wrong!? is judith alright!?” nico basically jumped off of the couch, worried that something had happened.
“she’s fine, everything is fine…well not everything it’s just.” you took a moment to look at nico, the lighting was horrible yet he still looked amazing. “i love you too nico.”
there was a silence that followed, it wasn’t awkward or filled with tension, just a calm silence. 
you blinked and then suddenly nico’s lips were on yours. 
the sound of judith’s cries separated your lips and caused you both to race to your bedroom.
spoiler alert: nothing was wrong with judith, she was just crying to cry. 
nico’s arms were wrapped around you and were holding you into his chest as you both laughed. 
“so what now? are we dating? getting married?” you asked, leaning your head against nico’s shoulder. 
“as much as i would love to get married right now, we’ll start with dating…so will you be my girlfriend?” nico asked, mumbling against your head and giving light kisses every now and then.
“yes, i will be your girlfriend.”
“yes!” 
you laughed at his response, judith held in both of your arms. “let’s go to bed, she’s finally asleep.”
+++
nicohischeir and y/nonfilm
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nicohischier me, my girlfriend, and our beautiful babygirl. welcome to the world judith.
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jackhughes god father mode activated😎
y/nonfilm …who said you were the god father?
ninahischier best day ever!! i got a niece and a sister 🩷🩷
njdevils baby hischier alert‼️
comments on this post have been limited
+++
note: i 100% HATE this ending (the whole thing actually) it’s so rushed and just bleh, but i have literally been working on this for 71 days. SEVENTY ONE DAYS. college has been kicking my ass lately so i haven’t been very focused on writing anything. but i hope y’all still like this PLEASE DON’T LET IT FLOP i’ll cry. okay love y’all babes BYEEEE!!!
508 notes · View notes
heartfeltcierra · 1 year
Text
Reacting to you making/giving them a friendship bracelet Pt. 2 (Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Sabo and Law
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AN- I hope you enjoy part two of OP character receiving a friendship bracelet! (You can find part one that included Roger, Ace, Shanks, Marco and Doffy here)
MasterList
Characters- Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Sabo and Law
Warnings/Contents-Fluff, All SFW, Mentions of fights, Law's is a little angsty and a bit longer.
I'll be posting a marine version tomorrow night including Koby, Garp, Smoker and Issho
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔノ♡ More under the cut
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Zoro
 🍶 Zoro was confused at first but smirked seeing what it said “Best swordsman huh?”  “You need to make one for curly brows that says “Dumbest cook.”
🍶  Immediately took that back saying he wants to be the only one you make bracelets for 
🍶 He noticed there was some spare room on the bracelet, so he came up with a idea to fill the blank spots
 “You were pretty tough.” Zoro said, putting his swords back into their sheath. “I’ll get my girl to add you to my bracelet.” 
 “Excuse me?” Despite being half dead, the  bloody man lifted off of the ground with a rather angry expression. “What the hell does that mean?” 
 “You see this?” Zoro bends down, showing the man the many beads decorating the bracelet. “They represent my victories, and since I won against you, she’ll add a bead to it.” The man could only give Zoro a baffled look knowing he was now nothing more than a mere bracelet charm. “Anyways, nice fight and all but I gotta go. Which way is the exit?”
 “To the left.”    
 “Thanks.”
 “You fool, that's the right!”
 (To bad the bracelet doesn’t have a GPS)
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 Luffy
🍗 Rubber boy was very excited when you gave it to him
🍗Would walk up to strangers to show them saying “Y/N made me this, I bet you're jealous!” 
🍗The only person that was genuinely jealous was Sanji 
🍗 Tries to take good care of it, note TRIES
 
  “Y/n…..” You look and see Luffy peeking his head into your room with an unusual gloomy look on his face. 
  “What’s wrong Luffy?” He padded over to you and laid the bracelet, or more like parts of the bracelet in front of you. 
 “It broke earlier during the fight. ” You knew from his tone he felt bad. “I’m sorry.” 
 “It’s okay!” You rummaged through the remains and smiled realizing the damage wasn’t irreversible. “I can fix it.” The frown on your captain’s face was finally replaced by that wide smile you know and love. “I’ll even make it more durable so it’s harder to break!”
  “You’re the best.” Luffy nearly sent you to the floor as he snaked his limbs around your body. “Also can you make one for my other wrist?”
“Sure what do you want it to say?”
 “Meat.”
  (I mean it’s Luffy, what did you expect?)
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Sanji
 💛-You might as well have proposed to the man
 💛- Picks you up immediately and starts spinning saying “We might as well plan our wedding~”
 💛- A little bummed to hear you weren’t proposing, but is still eccentric that you made him something 
 “What kind of fighter doesn’t use his hands?” The beaten looks up at Sanji
 “Listen pal, my hands are only meant for two things. For Cooking…” His serious face scrunches up to his signature lovestruck idiot. “And for wearing bracelets made by my dear Y/N-Swan~” 
 (Please make this man more bracelets)
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 Bartolomeo
💚 -His soul ascends into the clouds seeing that you made him something (Bonus points if your a straw hat pirate)
💚-Would fall to the ground and cry for a good half hour claiming he was “unworthy.” 
💚- But despite loving the bracelet, he NEVER wears it
 “Look at what was bestowed upon me.” He proudly holds up a small display case. “A friendship bracelet handcrafted by none other than Miss Y/N.” 
 The entire Strawhat lovers congregation would ooh and awe at the encased bracelet.
 “I could sit all day and bask in the sheer awesomeness.” Bart hits the floor with tears running down his face. “I just…I love her so much.”
 “Oh no boss man’s going down!”
  “What do we do?!” 
 “I don’t know, but we better figure something out. Were losing him!”
 Luckily after a cold towel and some fanning, the Barto Club was able to revive their green haired leader.
  (Please do not make this man any more bracelets , unless you want to send him into a coma.)
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 Sabo
🎩- You had no idea what you were really getting yourself into
🎩-You know how people flex their engagement rings? Yeah Sabo’s going to do that… a lot
🎩-“Oh this thing? Well my beautiful Y/N hand crafted it for m-“ Would go on and on when literally no one asked 💀💀💀
 
“Y/N come quick it’s Sabo!” You follow Hack in a full blown panic as he leads you down to the RA’s infirmary.
 “Sabo!” You see him lying in one of the beds breathing heavily with a towel on his forehead. “What happened?”
 “Y/N….” You rush to his side and he takes your hand in his. “I’m sorry. But…” Tears roll down his face. “I promise I did everything in my power to save it….”
“To save what Sabo?”
 “My…..my…..MY BRACELET.”
 ….
 ….
 “I’m leaving.” 
 “Why?” 🥺
 “Sabo you literally went into shock, scared everyone half to death and ended up hospitalized , over a bracelet.”
 “But it’s not just any bracelet.” He frowns. “You made it for me.”
 “And I’ll make you another one.” You playfully roll your eyes. “So tell me what exactly happened to it?”
 “To be honest, I burned it off accidentally.” He nervously scratches the side of his head. “I’m still not quite used to my new powers.” 
  “I see.” You nod.  “I’ll see if I can somehow make one that’s fireproof.”
 “You will?” The blonde smiles and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him on the bed. “I love you so much!”
“I love you too.” You let yourself relax into his hold. “With that being said, can you promise me that you'll never do this again?”
 “You have my word not only as the chief of staff, but also as your overly dramatic boyfriend….. that I may do this again.”
 (Sabo is a absolute drama queen and you cannot tell me otherwise)
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 Law
 🫀- And the crowd goes mild
 🫀- Literally had no initial reaction
 🫀- Law would stare at it, then back at you, then back to the bracelet, then back to you
 🫀- Poor man is not good at showing his emotions, so bear with him
 “Why?” Law gives you a confused look while staring at your labor of love. 
 “Because I wanted to.” You shrug your shoulders,  a little hurt seeing the lack of reaction.
 “I see.” Law doesn’t put the bracelet on, instead he puts it in his pocket. “Thank you.” He immediately turns his attention away from you and goes back to working.
 “Sure” You turn away with a frown. “I’ll go now, see you later.” 
 The second you leave the room Law is pulling that bracelet back out of his pocket while sporting the deepest shade of red on his cheeks. 
 He was so caught off guard and over the moon because of how cute and excited you looked while giving it to him that he completely went brain dead. 
 But he was now back to his senses and remembered the frown on your face as you left the room. 
 ~~~~
 You were laying on your bed sulking when you heard a knock on your door followed by a “It’s me.” You recognize your boyfriend's voice, but you're still hurt from earlier so you don’t reply. Instead you bury your face deeper into the pillow
 “SHAMBLES.” 
 “I didn’t say you could come in…” You spoke into the “pillow” which is now none other than Law.
 “You also didn’t say I couldn’t.” His tattooed arms pull you closer into his chest. 
 “Guess not.” Despite being angry at him, you can’t help but enjoy the closeness. “Is there something that you need, captain?”
 “Yes there is actually.” Law says in a matter of fact tone  “I have a very important task to assign you to.” You look up at him completely confused. “I need you to make me a bracelet with our jolly Roger on it.”
 “You want another bracelet?” You pull back from his hold. “I didn’t think you liked the first one I gave you.” 
 “I didn't like it, I loved it... see.”  You smile seeing the bracelet was in its rightful place on his wrist. “So do you think you can do it?”
 “Of course I can.” You jump up from the bed and run over to your desk that was covered in different colors of twine. “I’ll work on it right now!”
 Law feels relieved seeing the smile he fell in love with back on your face. Mission accomplished. He was about to leave the room to let you work, but couldn’t help but notice a huge pile of bracelets sitting in a basket on your dresser.
 “Damn Y/N you really like making these don’t you?” Law said while rummaging through the bracelets.
 “Law, wait!” It was too late, he was already holding the cheesy couples bracelets you made out of self indulgence. “I umm. I just made these for fun..”
 “Oh really?”  Law smirks while spinning the bracelet around his finger. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take this one with me.” 
 “Are you sure?” 
 “I’m sure.” Law nods before throwing the other bracelet into your lap. “And you should wear yours too.”
 Law leaves you an embarrassed mess, but at the same time,  despite his “cool guy” act, he was just as embarrassed if not more. Why does she have to be so cute??? 
 (Won’t say it out loud, but is loving the fact he now owns a bracelet that say “I ❤️ Y/N”)
2K notes · View notes
starfallsturniolo · 2 months
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head over heels | M.S
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This is my first fic, in a hot sec, so sorry if it's ass lmaoooo. Also it's long as fuck
Warnings: Drinking, Smut (don't read/keep scrolling if you don't want to or are uncomf or are a minor PLEASE), Dom!Matt, Angsty, Praise Kink (if you squint) I think that's it lol.
Word Count: 3.7k
Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out until I’m head over heels.
It had hit her like a truck. A semi truck, an 18 wheeler to be exact, carrying something so extremely heavy like granite slabs, or tons of cinder blocks, or even fucking boulders. And it was something so simple as waking up in the morning. She just looked over one night and something had happened, suddenly she was head over heels.
They had gone out for dinner and went to a small gathering after, and that’s where she found herself now. In the bathroom, face flushed, blood thrumming in her ears, hands shaky. There was no way she could have feelings for Matt. No way. The world had to have completely fallen off its axis right?  
There had to be another reason why she feels the way she feels. Seeing him smirk at his brother sent butterflies a flight in her stomach. Seeing him talk to another girl and brush her arm with his hand while laughing sent her heart to the middle of her throat. The laugh that roared out of his throat at something she said made her fists clench.  No. There’s no other reason. She was truly, terrifyingly, falling for Matt Sturniolo. She looked at herself in the mirror, willing to get a hold of her mind and body. Deep breaths she thought, just get through this night and you’ll be fine. Coming out of the bathroom she was faced with Madison, a knowing half smile on her face.
“I was wondering where you got off to. You practically ran out of the room. Anything you want to tell me?” she cocked her head.
“No” I shake my head “Just got a little overwhelmed for a sec, I’m fine though” 
“Whatever you say girl. You seemed a little – put off by something. Wouldn’t have to do with the girl Matt was talking to, would it?” Her eyebrows raised slightly.
“Wha-What are you talking about?”
“Don’t think I don't see how you two look at eachother.” What. “Oh come on. You both look at each other whenever the other isn’t paying attention. You watch as the other walks out of the room with this almost longing in your eyes. You both do.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” I say as I gesture for her to move so we can exit the bathroom. 
Walking back into the living room, I grab a cup and quickly down ice cold water, feeling it cool down the fire in my veins. I could do this, I could. 
“Slow down there kid.” I hear a rumble from behind me. I turn to see blue eyes, lighter than the ones I see in my dreams. 
“Chris,” I smile, “Just water buddy, don’t worry.” I do my best not to look over to where Madison returned, where Matt is. Still talking to that girl.
“She’s annoying the shit out of him, just so you know.” My eyes widen at the statement. 
“I don’t kn-”
“Oh cut the bullshit.” He snaps at me. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You know it. I know it. Madison and Nick know it. Hell, I bet every random person knows it.” He sighs. “You both need to get balls and just say something. Literally anything. Because it’s painful to watch.”
“I’m scared,” I whisper. “I didn’t think I really knew until now. Until I saw him with that girl over there. That’s painful to watch”
“You know it’s mutual right?” He says gently.
I scoff, “You don’t have to say that. I don’t want to be pitied.”
“I’m not pitying you. Or lying. It’s mutual. I know my brother, and I’ve only seen him look at someone the way he looks at you maybe twice in his life. And it’s been a while.”
My head was spinning, my breath coming fast. I knew Chris wouldn’t lie to me but I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. The doubt and feeling of not being good enough clouded my thoughts as I just stood staring at him. 
“You should talk to him. And talk to him soon.” He says with knowing eyes. “Nick and I have tried to get through to him on the matter but he refuses to listen, kid just makes excuses and changes the subject.” I nod at him. 
“I need time to just- I don’t know, process? This is new and weird and insane and I don’t even kno-”
“Relax. I’m not saying it has to be tonight. Take your time, but I do think this will all be alright.”
He walks away leaving me alone, but just momentarily as Madison comes back to me.
“Shots?” she smiles knowingly.
“Shots.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’s still talking to the girl two hours later. And they’ve moved to the couch, his arm loosely around her shoulder and her hand on his knee. I feel sick, the burn of the alcohol starting to come up. Tears prick my eyes as I make eye contact with him. He tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows in a way to ask You good? I plaster on a smile and nod. Turning back to the counter to grab another beer. 
A hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my thoughts.
“What’s up? You look fucking miserable.” I turn to see Nick behind me, worry in his eyes.
“Just tired, thinking I may head home soon.” “Don’t go yet, come over to the couch and talk with us. Chris was just getting started on this insane story of what happened in this house last time he was here.”
“I’ll be over in a sec, just gonna run to the bathroom.”
After washing my hands, I run into a body leaving the bathroom and get slammed back into the door. 
“Christ, sorry it’s fucking packed in here.”
“You’re good.” I laugh softly looking up. Jesus, he was hot. Something about it seemed familiar. Blue eyes, floppy brown hair, tatto- fucking hell, he’s just like Matt. 
“Need another drink?” He nods to the empty beer bottle in my hand.
“Probably if I’m going to endure this for another hour or two.” I mutter. “What was that?”
“Yeah, yeah. Was just gonna grab another.”
“What a coincidence, so was I.” he smirked. Lord, he was hot. I follow him down the hallway, trying to squeeze past the bodies crammed into the few square feet we were trying to maneuver through. 
Next thing I know, we’re in the kitchen and Nick is calling my name. The blonde girl nowhere to be found.
“I told my friends I’d join them over there.” I say with a sympathetic tone. 
“Ah, gotcha.” He says with a small frown.
“You can… come if you want?”
“Yea, I’d like that.” He smiles. He walks behind me as I sit on the couch, him sitting on the arm.
“Hey, this is-” I stop in my tracks. I don’t know his fucking name. 
“Theo.” He pats my leg. I sense Matt’s eyes tracking the movement.
“Well Theo, welcome to the group.” Chris smirks. 
After 20 minutes of conversation and introductions, I find myself reaching the brink of my tolerance. One more drink and I’d probably be on my ass. Madison can obviously sense that as she hands me her cup of water with a raised brow. I nod in thanks. 
“You good?” Theo whispers in my ear.
“Perfectly fine.” I smile at him. I hear a deep breath from across me and look towards the sound. Matt. He looked furious. What the fuck?
“I think we’re going to get going.” He huffs out. Ok something was definitely wrong. Madison, Nick and Chris stand up following his lead.
“You coming?” Madison asks me. My heart stuttered. Do I go? Or do I stay, and try to fuck the feelings and thoughts running through my head away.
“No, I think I’m gonna stay a little longer.” I can see Theo smirk out of the corner of my eye. And, unfortunately, I can also see Matt’s jaw clenching, hands in fists, and his back go rigid. Chris shoots his eyes from me to Matt. Back and forth about five or so times. He definitely thought this was a bad idea. Madison’s trying to hide the proud smile forming on her face. I knew I would be getting a phone call from her as soon as we woke up in the morning. 
“Ok, well remember, we’re meeting at ours in the morning. You got the key?” Nick asks.
“I got it. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” I nod, trying not to look Matt or Chris in the eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I woke up to a pounding headache and an arm draped over my waist. My heart dropped into my stomach. Matt? No. No, not Matt. Theo. Jesus Christ what was I doing. 
After getting back to Theo’s I had completely forgotten about my revelation earlier in the night. Well, kinda. He looked so much like him. Almost to an absurd level. He could be be their quadruplet for fucks sake. 
He was a good fuck, I had to admit, although I wasn’t surprised. I looked to my phone to see the time, 10:15. I had to get going, and fast. I slipped out of bed finding my clothes from last night, wiping the mascara from under my eyes. My hair was an absolute nest, and I sure looked thoroughly fucked. 
“Hey.” Theo mumbled into the pillow.
“Hey, I gotta get going.” I say sheepishly. See this was new for me. Not the fact that I fucked a guy hours after I met them, no that I did frequently. One time I only knew the guy for a mere 30 minutes before I went back to his place. But I never stay the night. Ever. 
“Let me drive you. And here.” He starts getting up and throws me a shirt. I bite my lip. I want to get out of here. Now.
“No, no it’s ok I can get an uber.”
“Please. Let me drive you.” God WHY did he have to be so nice. Fuck it.
“Ok.” I say slowly slipping the soft shirt over my head. 
We pull up to the triplet’s apartment after 20 minutes of staring out the window in silence, save for a dry ass sentence here and there. I felt bad, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak much. I was anxious as hell. The mixture of staying over, the hangover, him reminding me so much of Matt and knowing that was probably the reason why I fucked him, seeing Matt sober for the first time after what I realized last night. It was a lot. 
“Can I get your number?” I need to get out of this car now.
“Sure.” I type it into his phone, knowing that the chances of him getting a reply was scarce.
“Great. Maybe we can grab drinks later this week.”
“Uh, sure yeah that sounds great.” No chance at that either.
I shut the car door and take out my keys, finding the spare and unlocking the door. I take a deep breath. And then another. And another. The nausea was creeping in and it wasn’t from the obscene amount of alcohol I had consumed last night.
I slip off my shoes and pad into the living room.
“Well it’s about damn time.” Nick says loudly. 
“Nick. My fucking head. Shut up you literal idiot.” Chris groans.
“Hey it’s not my fault you came back and downed another two beers.”
“Shut. Up.” He throws a pillow to the couch.
“Well. You look…” Madison begins.
“Disheveled. New Shirt?” Nick finishes, silently laughing. 
I scoff, “Yeah thanks guys. Exactly what everyone wants to hear in the morning.”
“I was extremely surprised to not find you on the couch this morning when I went to pee.” Chris looks up at me, a small smirk on his face.
“In the five years I’ve known you, I have never woken up and not seen you on the couch after a night out. Even when you don’t initially come home with us.” Madison purses her lips trying to hide a smile. 
“Time for the morning after debrief!” Nick yells.
“Would you stop fucking screaming you big yellow beast.” Chris screams back.
“Yeah well who’s yelling now” Nick throws back.
“If I could stand up right now without falling over I would kill you Nick”
“I’d like to see you fucking try you big baby.”
“Fucking. Quit. It.” Matt says sternly. I look over to the chairs at the island in the kitchen. I hadn’t seen him when I walked in. He meets my eyes, no emotion to be seen. 
“Alright back to the debrief.” Nick throws a gatorade at me. I sit down next to Madison.
“What? You don’t want to change first.” Matt says glaring at me. Everyone goes silent, looking between the two of us. Turn my head back to Nick.
“Debrief.” I nod, ignoring Matt. I don’t know who shoved something up his ass this morning, but I was not ready to deal with him. And what the actual fuck is his problem. I’ve seen him hungover multiple times, but I’ve never seen him get an attitude like this.
After Nick, Chris and Madison talk about how they all ubered home, Nick almost vomiting out the window, not because he was drunk but because the driver was a “fucking maniac” he excused. It rounded back to me. 
I took a breath, picking at my fingernails.
“We left probably half an hour after you guys, Theo had a friend who wasn’t drinking so he dropped us at his place.”
“And? How was he?” Nick gestured for me to move forward. Usually I was really open with this stuff around them. But for some reason this morning, after the shock of last night, it felt so weird. I could sense Matt’s eyes boring into me.
“He was, uh…”
“Oh come on.” Chris sits up. “Don’t hold back. What kind of freaky shit did you get into?” My face screwed up.
“God, nothing like that. He was good, great actually. Better than the last few.” Matt shoots up out of the chair, stomps to his room and slams the door.
“What the fuck is his problem?!” I throw my hands into the air.
“I think- I think it’s time you tell him kid.” Chris shoots me a solemn look.
“I hate to agree with Chris, but I agree with Chris.” Nicks looks at me, Madison nods. I groan.
“Not yet.”
“Yes. It has to be now. Or else we’re going to have to deal with this for the foreseeable future.” Madison states.
“Fine.” I huff out and stand up. Slowly walking to his room, trying to swallow my pride and praying to the universe I don’t make an absolute fool out of myself. 
I approach his door.
“Matt?” I knock.
“What do you want?” He snaps from behind the door. I open it, staring at him on the bed looking at the ceiling.
“Did I say you could come in?”
“Ok what the fuck is your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Obviously you do.”
“Maybe that’s you projecting. Maybe you obviously have a problem. Whoring yourself out to any guy you meet within a few hours. What number was this? 25? 30? Did you even remember his name? I bet you forgot, bet you mixed it up with one of the many other men you’ve slept with in the past few months.” He growls. My jaw drops to the floor, hot tears filling my eyes. He’s never spoken this way to me. Never spoken to anyone this way before in the years I’ve known him. Legs shaking, I start walking to the bathroom knowing I’m seconds away from tears. I try to shut the door but he wedges his body in between.
“I didn’t mean that.” Anger still present in his voice.
“Then why the hell would you say it Matt?”
“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. All I know is that the minute I left that party I could not get you out of my head. Actually. That’s a lie. Every time you go home with some random guys I cannot get you out of my head. And it’s driving me. Fucking. Crazy. I couldn’t sleep, sick to my stomach picturing him with you. His hands on you, I-” I cut him off.
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t know. All I know is.. Fuck it.” He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me roughly, slamming the bathroom door shut with his foot.  I open my mouth to breathe but he doesn’t let me, pushing my body against the sink. I let out a moan of pain as my spine connects with the tile. I can feel his smirk against my lips. He then takes my bottom lip into his mouth and bites softly. I let out a whimper. 
“Shh. We can’t have them hearing us can we?” He whispers, then attacks my neck. He lifts me up onto the countertop. He lifts the t-shirt off my body. “Get this fucking thing off.” He growls. I go to cover my boobs as he bats my hands away. “Never. Fucking. Do that.” He says, his voice the lowest I’ve ever heard it before. He flips on the bathroom fan adding some noise to conceal the fact that we’re in here. 
He brings his mouth down to my chest, taking one nipple into his mouth then blowing a cool breath before moving to the other. Shivers run down my body. 
“Matt.” I start.
“I told you. Be Quiet.” He barks out. He starts moving lower, working me out of pants, leaving me in my underwear, smirking at the sight. He works his thumb over my underwear, and I blush knowing how I wet I am, and the fact that it’s probably visible through the fabric.
“Already?” He smirks. He pulls my underwear down, running his fingers up and down. “No one else gets to touch you ever again right?” I whimper. “I said right?”
“Yes. Yes. No one else, just you.” I whisper.
“Good girl. Use your words. Does this feel good?” He asks as he brings his mouth to my clit, softly licking. 
“Y-yes.”
“And this?” He adds a finger inside of me, groaning at how wet I already am. I moan in response.
“I said. Use your words.”
“Yes Matt. Feels so good.” He smiles as he continues, adding a second finger and pumping slowly. It’s not enough. It’s slow torture, it’s burning, it’s consuming me and I’m having trouble breathing. 
“Not enough, Matt. More. Please.” He rises up, pulls me off the counter and flips me around.
“I want you to watch me fuck you. I want you to see that no one else can make you feel this good. I want you to watch yourself come undone on my cock.” His words alone have my head spinning. He slowly enters me, bottoming out and my jaw drops.
“Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.” He says in between thrusts. “So. Fucking. Beautiful. All. Fucking. Mine.” He pulls my hair back exposing my neck. “Isn’t that right baby?” All I can do is nod.
“I’ll let that slide since I can see I’m fucking you speechless.” He growls into my ear. I can feel myself getting close, so close to the edge. He brings his hand forward, slowly circling my clit, too slow.
“Matt. Faster please.” I plead. He picks up his pace, both his fingers and his hips. His other hand covers my mouth, sensing what’s going to happen. I hit my high, squeezing my eyes close, my mouth dropping open behind his hand, silently screaming. He grunts and I feel him dripping down my thighs. Were both panting, sweaty, and shaking. I let out a soft laugh, rubbing my hands over my face, shaking my head back and forth. 
“Wha-” I begin but he cuts me off with a kiss. 
“No. Don’t start over thinking. I’ve wanted to do that for months. Hell, years. I can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else.”
“Last night, when you were talking to that girl. I couldn’t fucking see straight. Matt, I fucked that guy last because he looked like you. And I hated myself this morning. I didn’t even want to speak about it.” I start spilling the truth.
“I felt the same. When you left with Theo” He spits his name out. I smile softly at him. “And I swear it. I didn’t mean anything I said. I was jealous and mad and out of my mind. And I will never stop apologizing.”
“I know” I kiss his collarbone. “I know.”
“I mean it. No one else touches you.”
“No one else.” I nod, now unable to control my smile, him mirroring the same back. I go to grab toilet paper to wipe between my thighs.
“No. Leave it.” I raise an eyebrow. “It’s hot” He shrugs and I blush. “No need to get all shy on me when I fucked you stupid against the counter not even two minutes ago.” I shove him gently back, going to grab my clothes. He grabs the shirt and throws it in the trash. “Do not put that fucking thing on.” He tosses me his shirt and pajama pants, ducking into his room to grab new clothes. I stay in the bathroom as he slides back in, running his hand through my hair.
“You’re so beautiful.” He grins, “Can’t get enough. Now let’s get back out there.” He slaps my ass gently, pushing me through the door.
As soon as I’m in eyeshot of the three on the couch Madison’s eyes go wide, Nick’s jaw drops and Chris has the biggest smile on his face.
“Fucking finally!” He screams. “Holy shit, ow Chris, now you’re killing my head” Nick slaps him. The whole room erupts into laughter as Matt and I plop on the couch, his arm laying around my shoulders. And it’s then that I know, we’ve fallen head over fucking heels.
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ma1dita · 1 month
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to catch a thief
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.7k
summary: (post-TLT, sea of monsters compliant/spoilers) The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. Your reunion with Luke is nothing you both could have ever expected. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: we’re so back trouble!verse ;) sorry for the post birthday hiatus on this, hope you like it! crack banter but err... she got a lil angsty
(posted 3/22/24, semi-edited)
When you wake up to the gentle rolling of the sea, it feels like a comforting embrace in a distant dream. Tangled within pristine white sheets, you could smell the salt through the small opening in the bay window–though this was a far cry from a fairytale conjured by your mind. This was your reality. 
You wouldn’t call it a nightmare per se, but the circumstances were definitely less than preferred. 
This is not the CSS Birmingham. No, that went up in flames. Retracing your steps to what led you to this—cushy cruise line of a prison, you reckon it’s been a few days now since you’ve become a stowaway, or a hostage. You haven’t quite decided yet. 
Gods, this is what you get for passing up on that summer research internship. 
Dropping off Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson at camp was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane—until meeting with your dad, finding out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned, watching Chiron get fired, and essentially getting kicked out by the troll of a man who originally got sent to the Fields of Punishment for marketing the taste of human flesh made you remember that nothing at camp is the way it used to be.
Not like before, when you and Luke used to run it.
Your dad told you to go home and wait till you were needed. Home. Driving away from it this time around was harder than you thought it would be. You’d never been the patient type, and to drop everything just because a god told you to? Hilarious, really.
But almost a week later, after rejoining your friends on an undead ship that you let the kids commandeer, your vital mistake was thinking that Clarisse’s quest would be a breeze. Rookie move, since the last one you were on left you as scarred as Luke was. Even thinking of him now, you run your thumb over the rough patch of skin on your palm. 
At the very least you hoped Tyson was okay. The last memory you have of the young Cyclops was watching him from your place on the ladder as he stopped the engines from overheating. Maybe it was the ex-head counselor in you, or your increased threshold to pain, but there was no way in hell you were leaving that kid behind.
The sound of voices from outside your door gets louder now, your throat feeling like you’ve been swallowing wads of cotton and a persistent ringing in your ear that hurts just as bad as when you watch Chris Rodriguez walk in with a plate of food. The last one he slid through the door bumps against his boot, still uneaten and he sighs. 
“So what, you’re on a hunger strike now? I forgot how difficult you could be.”
You bark out a laugh. Thankfully it’s loud enough that it almost conceals the rumble of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you mumble, “Wish it could be an idiot strike. I forgot how much of a bitch you are when it comes to your brother, Rodriguez. How long are you going to keep me here? It’s been days.”
Your former friend rolls his eyes at your dramatics like he doesn’t hold the key to your freedom.
“Three since you woke up, actually. Come on, you’ve gotta eat, or I’ll get my ass kicked,” he grumbles. You raise an eyebrow at that, walking towards the window to dodge the uncomfortable tension that fills the room. He plucks an apple slice off your plate.
“He couldn’t splurge on a balcony view? Monsters aside, it’s not like you’ve reached full occupancy.”
“There are more mortals here than you think. To be honest, he was worried you would find a way to overthrow us,” the tanned boy admits, placing the tray on the dresser. It was always a wonder to him how you and Luke were more alike than you think, even now—even when Luke hasn’t come to see you. Talking to you reminded him that you’re both pains in his ass, and Chris was still unsure of who to be more wary of, but he’s been in charge of watching you for the most part.
“Well tell your stupid captain he has no right to be worried about me. I’d much rather try to jump if given the opportunity.”
There’s no response, so you turn to face Chris who’s eating a croissant with a bashful grin.
“Seriously dude?”
“Listen, I’m hoping if I think of the right words to say, he’ll come in and deal with you himself. Opposite sides of a war and you’re still both giving me a headache. Just like old times,” he chuckles, flakes of pastry dotting across his chest plate. Your mouth quirks into a bitter smile. Old times, when Luke would shove you if he couldn’t think of a reply fast enough. When you’d punch him to get your point across if he wasn’t listening. How a kiss could end any waging war between the both of you.
You swallow, turning slowly to watch your reflection in the glass of the windowpane.
Why hasn't he come to see you? The first day, you remember spending out on the sea—treading water with no land in sight, calling out to your friends until your voice went hoarse, but you didn’t cry. You know better than to show weakness now, even when no one’s around. Chris tells you over a gulp of orange juice that you washed up next to the Princess Andromeda on the second day like it was fate. Though fate was never truly that kind to anyone; it felt like it was laughing in your face. Knocked out cold for two days after, and ignoring all of Chris’s attempts to keep you alive in the days that followed, you’ve been in this room ever since. You barely notice Chris’s departure. 
Entering the ensuite bathroom, you splash your face and sip on water from the tap before stopping at the doorway. A shadow flits at the seam near your feet, someone standing just out of sight when you peer through the peephole.
But you know Luke’s there. Sons of Hermes have almost undetectable footsteps, however, Luke walking in and out of your life for as long as he has—there’s no inconceivable way to not know him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear the sound of his feet, but there’s a way the wind shifts your hair, your heart slowing in ease at his presence, and the scent of him reminiscent of skin kissed with the peel of an orange. The skin you used to kiss and greet and know like your own.
The shadow fades just as your hand reaches out towards it, leaving like he always does. Always out of reach.
Even as the Princess Andromeda continues to set sail upon the calm waters of the Atlantic Coast, you look out to the unending horizon and still feel like you’re drowning.
“Status report, soldier?”
Chris rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of apple into his mouth as he strolls into the command deck. The both of you had a flair for the dramatic—it serves as his reminder of why you two worked so well. Luke is sitting in his captain’s seat, watching the waves crash against the hull as the sun begins to set on the skyline.
“She’s angry. Anyone would be if they were locked up like that.”
“Well, yeah, but tell me something I don’t know. Something useful, Rodriguez,” Luke says, flicking his pocket knife closed. It’s still sticky with the juice of the fruit, catching onto his finger. He hisses, but then the sound of loud footsteps boom down the corridor, along with the sound of maniacal laughter as the door slams open. The two sons of Hermes look at each other curiously, knowing it all too well.
“You know, the next time you send a 9-year-old to stand guard, remember to not make it the one we used to throw into the lake,” you drawl, sauntering into the bridge and looking around until your eyes land on your ex, “and also remember that you taught me how to pick locks.”
Ethan Nakamura heaves behind you, hands on his knees before he stands to attention and salutes his captain.
“Sir, I was just following orders… and I’m not 9 anymore!” he snaps, glaring at you. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation makes it easier to get through. You thought being surrounded by the undead on the CSS Birmingham was scary enough, but standing in a room with ghosts from your past was somehow worse. Honestly, you learned a lot more by being in that room than if you were to jump ship like you wanted to.
“I taught you how to tie your shoes, Ethan. You’re always gonna be a little kid to me,” you scoff, brushing him aside and walking towards Luke, “your new digs are fancy, by the way. I could tell by all the teenage soldiers chasing me through the tourists.”
He stands up and meets you head to head, as the both of you inspect each other closely. 
It’s been a long year without you.
You look thinner. You’ve lost the softness in your cheeks and your eyes are tired. He wonders what you chose to major in, who your roommates are, if you still think of him with a smile on your face. You’re still beautiful.
“You know me, I like to travel in style,” Luke says offhandedly, a half smile on his face. For someone leading a war against the gods, he’s calm in your presence.
“Back when I knew you, we traveled in a tin can that we also called a car.”
His clothes are nicer than anything you’ve ever seen him in. He looks really fucking good, for someone on the run. It’s almost frustrating to see how brawny he’s gotten, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms. You suppose he has nothing to do now but practice and spar (that or he’s definitely flexing for you). Pulling at the drawstring of the joggers you wear, you realize his initials are embroidered on the pocket. Pretentious fuck. Did he change you once you got on board?
Chris and Ethan suddenly get the feeling that they’re interrupting something—a reunion in a blockbuster romantic movie they’ve seen the mortals play out on the ship deck’s projector on Friday nights. The two of you stand there arguing like a married couple despite the fact you are no longer lovers and the bickering continues even when more of Kronos’ army files in. You laugh again at the sight of children walking in—some strangers, others you’ve sung to sleep in cabin 11, all still children, even back from the time before when laughter didn’t have to have a reason, light and airy in the summer sun.
“You’re sick, you know that? Did you just plan to let me rot in that room until it was all over? You didn’t even talk to m—”
“Classic, you’re more mad that I didn’t talk to you over the fact that you’re a prisoner,” he seethes, but you don’t stand down—not now or ever.
“Prisoner? I walked out and none of your Boy Scouts could do anything about it!”
His face is turning red now, jaw tightening at the angst but deep down he misses this—the banter, the thin line between hate and love you both tread on. You may be a damsel. But you were not in distress. To further prove your point, you swing an arm toward one of the boys in black (their uniforms were annoyingly corny), and they all take a step back toward the wall. Your eyebrows furrow, “What type of prison has guards terrified of the prisoner?”
He shrugs, “It was only time before you came and found me. I even gave you a bay window.”
That was not the right thing to say.
“I’ll fucking kill yo—”
“Sir? So do we try and detain her, or….” one of the demigods you don’t know interjects, and Chris Rodriguez sucks at his teeth before he responds. 
“Alright. We’ve seen enough of the show. Everyone file out and let Castellan reunite with his girlfriend.”
“GIRLFRIEND?”
“Girlfriend…”
The both of you look at each other, one in anger, the other in sheepishness now that you’re alone. It's even funnier that neither of you deny it.
“You left me there in that room, and by the sight of things around here you prefer being in the company of monsters than being with me, so by the gods, what do you want, Castellan?”
You fall into the captain’s chair exasperatedly, watching him watch you.
“I’m giving you a choice,” he says simply. “You can stay here with me, or you can go.”
“A choice? You captured me to tell me I have a choice,” you spit, as if that was the stupidest thing he could say. “You didn’t give me a choice when you left me.”
“It was a matter of the circumstances. And I didn't capture you—are you mad that I betrayed everyone or not, because I can’t really read you right now, trouble…”
Your eye twitches and your hands are in fists across your lap. Another wrong thing to say.
“Keeping me here until I get the nerve to talk to you is not a choice, asshole. Do you think you could just hide me away until the bad part’s over? To save me until everything's good enough for you?” Your eyes catch onto the droplets of blood that fall onto the hardwood flooring near your feet. His hand is bleeding, and like it’s nothing of the sort you reach out for it.
Luke thinks that if he lets you your hand will still perfectly fit in his, so after a moment, he pulls his hand away out of your reach. Pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket (also embroidered with his initials—note to self, never let a son of Hermes have money), you stand to wrap it around his hand to stop the bleeding. You pretend not to notice his heartbeat increase through the throbbing of the cloth.
“Don’t let my actions make you believe that what we had wasn’t good, trouble.”
“Stop calling me that. Why are they all scared of me? Why won’t you let me touch you?” you whisper, putting pressure on his finger until the blood clots. It doesn’t even hurt, to tell you the truth. Not touching you when you’re right here in front of him is a pain he can’t find the words to describe. But what he’ll never understand is that he’s right. You two were good together. You’d have him through the bad too, if only he let you.
“Because you might think you can fix me.” Or worse, you might change his mind. You don't have to say you love him for him to know it. A part of him wishes he didn’t have to do all of this to prove to you he feels the same. 
“Would you have left with me?” he mutters. A wistful look cuts through your anger and he knows he’s finally said something right. His pocket knife is on the control board and your hands drop to your side again when you realize that he may have forgotten to tell his battalion of who you are to him, but he still remembers how you like your apples cut. The silence is loud, even with the twinge that comes with the pain in your eardrum as you sway a little on your feet. Your body still knows it can relax with him, knees buckling with a false sense of security despite your willpower.
“I would've made it so that there was no other option for you but to want to stay.”
A soldier bursts through the door and apologizes for the intrusion, but the both of you have found out all you need to know. The moment is over and Percy Jackson has been captured by the army in his efforts of trying to save the day. There’s a look shared between the two of you that wonders if this will become a trend.
Licking your lips as your…Luke guides you out onto the main deck with your hands behind your back, you can taste the salt in your air. It’s almost as evident as the surprise in your friends’ faces when they see you alive. This time, they don’t question your allegiance but in the chaos that ensues, for a moment, you do.
For a moment, you wonder what would change if you decided to stay with him. Would the sky fall under your feet? Would the gods kneel like Luke said they would? Looking at him in your periphery, you realize it’s not what the both of you want, even if it’s the easier way out—to be together despite it all.
The two of you against the world instead of the world against the both of you.
But he won't even touch you—he’s holding you over the sleeves of your shirt, too scared of what you’ve become in his absence. You suppose you’re scared of what he’s become too. 
The realization hits that you could defect from your friends, family, and home. You could undo everything that you and your friends have worked towards. But nothing he can say will change the fact that he didn’t choose you.
Luke was right, then.
You did have a choice, one that he still forces you to make as you nod at Percy to flip his last drachma into the open water, opening a direct line of communication to your father to catch the thief—of both lightning and the beat of your heart, in the act.
You realize that if the gods were the least bit grateful that you’ve kept their kids alive for the past half-decade, perhaps fate would be on your side and Luke would still be yours. But life has a funny way of working itself out when Luke admits to the open air of another crime to tack onto his list.
“Kronos was right. I should’ve killed you, Percy.”
The son of Poseidon goads Luke into another duel and you survey your surroundings for a way out. Annabeth burns holes into the side of your head and it gets you thinking, moving faster than you have in days as you walk towards her and Grover. At the raise of your hand, the demigods holding onto the pair drop to the deck, incapacitated with illusions of madness they will never comprehend. The more of them that surround you drop like flies as Luke’s eyes flicker between you and the boy he has at swordpoint.
You’ve gotten stronger in his absence—you never needed to touch him to use your powers after all. Just waiting for the right moment to strike, attacking when Luke finally let his guard down for you. He cracks his neck, knowing you’ve made your choice, so he makes his. 
“Get them.” 
The monster scrambles across the deck but it approaches you first, clawing at the wood and barely missing your feet as you scream for help, defenseless without a sword and you hear Luke yell your name in alarm before a punching glove-tipped arrow sends it hurtling overboard.
Your eyes lock with his again as you disembark with the Party Ponies, you with your crew as he corrals the mess you made of his. It has to be the salt air that makes your eyes seem a little misty.
Your fates have always been tied. 
You protect your home, and he does what he can to protect you. Luke looks over your form like he’s checking if you’re okay, even from a distance— and it makes you wonder if this is how it's supposed to be. Someone leaving, and the both of you apart. 
It’s weird to be the one leaving this time, but it isn't as easy as Luke makes it seem each time he does it. You avert your eyes once you see him put his hand in his pocket, him finding what you snuck in on the way to the deck. Luke pulls out a leather bracelet with a black camp bead, the one he missed in the year he’s been gone. He rolls the bead between his fingers, the thing you last touched before leaving him, an emblem of his archnemesis and the summer that changed everything—the consequences of his actions ripping you away from him. When he slides it on his wrist, it lightly clinks against the hilt of his sword, the lone clay bead a force of its own against Backbiter's reverberating power. He feels nostalgia for what could have been crawling through him—though Luke supposes he’s always been too vulnerable when it comes to you.
Is this what you’ve been feeling every time he walks away? 
It starts to rain after you leave. Luke watches his crew take cover from the downpour, running in all different directions to hide away from the storm that ravages the Princess Andromeda. 
But he stands still, looking up at the sky and hating it for how openly it’s able to cry. Luke is far away from home again—from you and it makes him wonder how much longer he’ll have to be away from you when being with you is what he truly wants.
The mission continues and the ship keeps pushing forward even as the rain washes over him, soaking through his armor and straight to the bone. Raindrops pelt through every crevice, though this onslaught is much kinder, more gentle, even when it’s angry. He closes his eyes and lets it touch his skin. 
For a moment, it feels like you. 
A hand penetrates the tide searching for yours, gripping onto your unconscious one. He’s spent hours ripping holes through time to try to find you, an advantage given to him in a dream by the Titan. The agreement, what keeps him from not running back to you is that you live—and as Luke pulls you out of the ocean waterlogged and turning blue, he wonders if it’s all a farce. 
Losing you isn’t worth the wrath of the gods if you’re lifeless in his arms like this. 
He shouts your name, pumping your chest with his fists and breathing life back into your lips until you cough out saltwater, head lolling against his knee. Luke’s fingers stroke your hair, touching you for the first time in a year. As life slowly brings the color back into your cheeks he silently thanks Hestia for keeping your flame alight. His soldiers call out to him from the deck, and he steels his resolve as he rows the lifeboat back to the ship. Still, Luke has to uphold his side of the agreement. 
He wonders if you’d stay. Even if he knows the answer, Luke wonders if you would ever change it for him.
And they tell me you are evil and I answer: Yes, I know. –Patricia Smith
 ½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri
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7ndipity · 7 months
Text
Mine
Namjoon x Reader
Summary: Joon gets easily jealous, but do you mind, really?
Warnings: Swearing, Joonie’s kinda possessive, very suggestive
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took a few extra days, this month’s been a lot, but we’re finally starting to feel better! This one started off angsty in my drafts but somehow turned out way more suggestive than I planned (At what point should I start a blog for spicy fics? lmk)
Masterlist
Requests are open
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It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on in Namjoon’s head that evening, mouth pressed into a hard, thin line as he only half followed the conversation he was currently in the middle of, but you could feel the weight of his eyes constantly tracking you from across the room as you talked with one of the other artists that were at the event Joon had invited you to as his plus one.
You fought the slight urge to roll your own eyes as you caught his hard stare through the crowd, trying your best to ignore him for the moment and keep your focus on your own conversation.
This was starting to become a recurring situation between the two of you; if he saw you getting too close (in his opinion anyway) to another guy, or sometimes anyone at all, his stubborn jealousy would rear its ugly head, turning your normally sweet and understanding boyfriend sour and possessive.
He, of course, vehemently denied that that was what it was, that the other person was just giving him bad vibes and he was just looking out for you, although you couldn’t help wondering if/when he would notice that the those ‘vibes’ he kept picking up on was just their interest in you.
Almost as if on cue, you felt a familiar pair of hands land on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing patterns against your sides through the fabric of your outfit, though it was unclear whether it was meant to calm you or him.
“Having a good time?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You didn’t miss the way his tone went up at the end in annoyance, despite his rather feeble attempt to mask it.
“I am, what about you?” You replied, tilting your head to look back at him.
“I think I’ve had my fill of socializing for one evening. Shall we go?”
“Do we have to?” You asked.
“I would like to.” He said, leaning closer. “I’ve also had my fill of other people stealing your attention from me.” He whispered in your ear, making you shiver.
The car ride home was unusually quiet. You noticed that he was still tense based on the way he was gripping the steering wheel, but you chose to leave it be, leaving him the responsibility to present the topic to you if there was something truly bothering him.
You barely made it through the door though before he was on you, catching you in a bruising kiss as he pressed you back against the wall.
“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” He mumbled against your lips. “Couldn’t stand the way they kept looking at you.”
“They weren’t.” You gasped between kisses.
“You don’t see what I do.” He said, trailing kisses over your jaw and down your neck to your pulse point.
“Who cares?” You replied, hands struggling to find purchase on his shoulders.
“I do.” He practically growled.
“You shouldn’t.”
Your response made his head whip back up to look at you. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because they don’t matter.” You said, cupping his face in your hands, feeling the heat of his skin against your palms. “I only want you, no one else. You believe that, right?”
He sighed, instinctively leaning into your touch. “Of course I do, I just don’t like people thinking that they can take what’s mine.”
“Yours?” You raised your brows at him. ”What, like you own me?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not! You belong to only yourself. But-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue.
“But?” You urged, catching him off guard as you wound your hands into his hair and gave a quick tug.
His eyes darkened. “But you're mine.” He pressed another hot kiss to your mouth, stealing your breath as he spoke. “You’re mine and I’m yours. Only yours.”
You relented for the moment, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of him as his hands ghosted over your body, making you press even closer to him.
"Mine."
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